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The sentry thus in slumber drowned,
Æneas takes the vacant ground,
And quickly passes from the side
Of the irremeable tide.

Hark! as they enter, shrieks arise,
And wailing great and sore,
The souls of infants uttering cries
At ingress of the door,
Whom, portionless of life's sweet bliss,
From mother's breast untimely torn,
The black day hurried to the abyss
And plunged in darkness soon as born.
Next those are placed whom slander's breath
By false arraignment did to death.
Nor lacks e'en here the law's appeal,
Nor sits no judge the lots to deal.
Sage Minos shakes the impartial urn,
And calls a court of those below,
The life of each intent to learn
And what the cause that wrought them woe.
Next comes their portion in the gloom
Who guiltless sent themselves to doom,
And all for loathing of the day
In madness threw their lives away:
How gladly now in upper air
Contempt and beggary would they bear,
And labour's sorest pain!
Fate bars the way: around their keep
The slow unlovely waters creep
And bind with ninefold chain.

Next come, wide stretching here and there,
The Mourning Fields: such name they bear.