Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/153

'Sweet relics of a time of love,
When fate and heaven were kind,
Receive my life-blood, and remove
These torments of the mind.
My life is lived, and I have played
The part that Fortune gave,
And now I pass, a queenly shade,
Majestic to the grave.
A glorious city I have built,
Have seen my walls ascend,
Chastised for blood of husband spilt
A brother, yet no friend.
Blest lot! yet lacked one blessing more,
That Troy had never touched my shore.'
Then, as she kissed the darling bed,
'To die! and unrevenged!' she said,
'Yet let me die: thus, thus I go
Exulting to the shades below.
Let the false Dardan feel the blaze
That burns me pouring on his gaze,
And bear along, to cheer his way,
The funeral presage of to-day.'

Thus as she speaks, the attendant train
Behold her writhing as in pain,
Her hands with slaughter sprinkled o'er,
And the fell weapon spouting gore.
Loud clamours thrill the lofty halls:
Fame shakes the town, confounds, appals:
Each house resounds with women's cries,
And funeral wails assault the skies:
E'en as one day should war o'erthrow
Proud Carthage or her parent Tyre,
And fire-flood stream with furious glow
O'er roof, and battlement, and spire.