Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/202

And trod and trod again the way—
Why talk of Theseus? why
Of great Alcides? I, as they,
Descend from Jove most high.'

So spoke he, hand on altar laid:
The priestess took the word, and said:
'Inheritor of blood divine,
Preserver of Anchises' line,
The journey down to the abyss
Is prosperous and light:
The palace-gates of gloomy Dis
Stand open day and night:
But upward to retrace the way
And pass into the light of day,
There comes the stress of labour; this
May task a hero's might.
A few, whom heaven has marked for love
Or glowing worth has throned above,
Themselves of seed divine conceived,
The desperate venture have achieved.
Besides, the interval of ground
Is clothed with thickest wood,
And broad Cocytus winds around
Its dark and sinuous flood.
But still should passionate desire
Stir in your soul so fierce a fire,
Twice o'er the Stygian pool to swim,
Twice look on Tartarus' horrors dim,
If naught will quench your madman's thirst,
Then learn what duties claim you first.
Deep in a mass of leafy growth,
Its stem and foliage golden both,
A precious bough there lurks unseen,
Held sacred to the infernal queen: