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THE ÆNEID.

Born to old Telon, Capreæ's king,
By Naiad of Sebethus' spring:
The son contemned his sire's domain,
And stretched o'er neighbouring lands his reign.
Sarrastes' tribes his rule obey,
And fields where Sarnus' waters play,
Who Batulum and Rufræ hold
Or till Celennæ's fruitful mould,
Or those whom fair Abella sees
Down-looking through her apple-trees,
All wont in Teuton sort to throw
Long beamy lances 'gainst the foe:
Their helm of bark from cork-tree peeled,
Of brass their sword, of brass their shield.

Thee too steep Nersæ sends to war,
Brave Ufens, born 'neath happy star:
Hard as their clods the Æquian race,
Inured to labour in the chase:
In armour sheathed, they till their soil,
Heap foray up, and live by spoil.

Came too from old Marruvia's realm,
An olive-garland round his helm,
Bold Umbro, priest at once and knight,
By king Archippus sent to fight:
Who baleful serpents knew to steep
By hand and voice in charmed sleep,
Soothed their fierce wrath with subtlest skill,
And from their bite drew off the ill.
But ah! his medicines could not heal
The death-wound dealt by Dardan steel:
His slumberous charms availed him nought
Nor herbs on Marsian mountains sought
And cropped with magic shears: