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12
THE ÆNEID.

Antenor from the Greeks could scape,
Mid Hadria's deep recesses shape
His dangerous journey, and surmount
The perils of Timavus' fount,
Where with the limestone's reboant roar
Through nine loud mouths the sea-waves pour,
And all the fields are deluged o'er:
Yet here he built Patavium's town,
His nation named, his arms laid down,
Now rests in honour and renown:
We, thine own race, on whom thy word
Olympian glories has conferred,
Our vessels lost, O shame untold!
Are traitorously bought and sold,
Still from Italia kept apart
To pacify one jealous heart.
Lo! piety with honour graced,
A monarch on his throne replaced!'

With that refulgence in his eye
Which soothes the humours of the sky
Jove on his daughter's lips impressed
A gracious kiss, then thus addressed:
'Queen of Cythera! spare thy pain:
Thy children's fates unmoved remain:
Thine eyes shall have their pledged desire
And see Lavinium's walls aspire:
Thine arms at length shall bear on high
To bright possession in the sky
Æneas the high-souled: nor aught
Has turned the channel of my thought.
He—for I now will speak thee sooth,
Vexed as thou art by sorrow's tooth,
Will ope the volume and relate
The far-off oracles of Fate—
Fierce war in Italy shall wage,
Shall quell her peoples' patriot rage,