Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/300

All Nature to her centre reeled,
And east and west through ether pealed
The Tyrrhene trumpet's blare.
They look: yet once and once again
Deep growls the thunder in his den;
And armour veiled in cloud is seen
High in the azure space serene
To glimmer with a ruddy sheen
And hurtle in the air.
The rest are fixed in awe profound:
Æneas hails the expected sound
And owns his mother's hand.
'Ask not' he cries 'much honoured friend,
What chance these prodigies portend:
'Tis I the skies demand:
This sign to send my mother vowed,
If war was on the wing:
Herself to aid me through the cloud
Vulcanian arms would bring.
Alas! what havoc soon shall seize
Laurentum's wretched families!
What reckoning, Turnus, yours to pay!
What burdens shalt thou roll,
Helmets and shields and mangled clay
Where dwelt a warrior's soul,
Hoar Tiber! Call to arms, and break
With treacherous ease the leagues ye make!'

He said, and from his throne upleapt,
Awakes the altar-fires that slept,
And pays the rites of morning hours
To Hercules and home-god powers.
The Trojans and Arcadia's king
Alike their chosen victims bring.
Then, turning shoreward, he reviews
His vessels, and arrays the crews: