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This to a tyrant master sold
His native land for cursed gold,
Made laws for lucre and unmade:
That dared his daughter's bed to climb:
All, all essayed some monstrous crime,
And perfected the crime essayed.
No—had I e'en a hundred tongues
A hundred mouths, and iron lungs,
Those types of guilt I could not show,
Nor tell the forms of penal woe.'

So spoke the wise Amphrysian dame:
'Now to the task for which we came:
Come, make we speed' she cries:
'I see the work of Cyclop race:
The archway fronts us, face to face,
Where custom wills that we should place
Our precious golden prize.'
She ended: side by side they pace
Along the region drear,
Pass swiftly o'er the mediate space,
And to the gate draw near.
Æneas takes the entrance-way,
Grasps eagerly the lustral spray,
With pure dew sprinkles limbs and brow,
And on the door sets up the bough.

Thus having soothed the queen of Dis,
They reach the realms of tranquil bliss,
Green spaces, folded in with trees,
A paradise of pleasances.
Around the champaign mantles bright
The fulness of purpureal light;
Another sun and stars they know,
That shine like ours, but shine below.