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And wraps her truth in mystery round,
While all the cave returns the sound;
Still the fierce power her hard mouth wrings,
And deep and deeper plants his stings.
Soon as the frenzy-fit was o'er,
And foamed the savage lips no more,
The chief begins: 'No cloud can rise
Unlooked for to Æneas' eyes:
My prescient soul has all forecast,
And seen the future as the past.
One boon I crave: since here, 'tis said,
The path leads downward to the dead,
Where Acheron's brimming waters spread,
There let me go, and see the face
Of him, the father of my love;
Thyself the dubious journey trace,
And the dread gates remove.
Him through the fire these shoulders bore,
And from the heart of battle tore:
He shared my travel, braved with me
The menaces of every sea,
The ocean's roar, the tempest's rage,
With feeble strength transcending age.
Nay, 'twas his voice that bade me seek
Thy presence, and thine aid bespeak.
O pity son and father both,
Blest maid! for naught to thee is hard,
Nor vainly sworn was Dian's oath
That placed thee here, these shades to guard.
If Orpheus back to light and life
Could summon his departed wife,
Albeit he owned no other spell
Than the soft breathings of his shell;
If Pollux ransomed from the tomb
His brother's shade, and halved his doom,