Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/230

And Lethe river, which flows by
Those dwellings of tranquillity.
Nations and tribes, in countless ranks,
Were crowding to its verdant banks:
As bees afield in summer clear
Beset the flowerets far and near
And round the fair white lilies pour:
The deep hum sounds the champaign o'er.
Æneas, startled at the scene,
Asks wondering what the noise may mean,
What river this, or what the throng:
That crowds so thick its banks along.
His sire replies: 'The souls are they
Whom Fate will reunite to clay:
There stooping down on Lethe's brink
A deep oblivious draught they drink.
Fain would I muster in review
Before your eyes that shadowy crew.
That you, their sire, may joy with me
To think of new-found Italy.'
'O father! and can thought conceive
That happy souls this realm would leave,
And seek the upper sky,
With sluggish clay to reunite?
This direful longing for the light,
Whence comes it, say, and why?'
'Learn then, my son, nor longer pause
In wonder at the hidden cause,'
Replies Anchises, and withdraws
The veil before his eye.

'Know first, the heaven, the earth, the main,
The moon's pale orb, the starry train,
Are nourished by a soul,
A bright intelligence, which darts
Its influence through the several parts
And animates the whole.