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THE ÆNEID.

Messapus, tamer of the steed,
Who comes of Neptune's line.
The signal given, they each recede
Within the space assigned,
Their javelins planted in the mead,
Their shields at rest reclined:
While, brimming o'er with yearning strong,
Weak matrons, an unwarlike throng,
And fathers, old and grey,
Turret and roof confusedly crowd,
Or stand beside the portals proud,
The combat to survey.

But Juno, seated on the mount
That Alban now is named
('Twas then a hill of scant account,
Untitled and unfamed),
On the two hosts was gazing down,
The listed field, the Latian town.
To Turnus' sister then she said
(A goddess she of lake and flood:
Such honour Jove the damsel paid
For violated maidenhood):
'Pride of all streams on earth that roll,
Juturna, favourite of my soul,
Thou know'st, of all of Latian race
That e'er endured great Jove's embrace
I still have set thee first, and given
To share ungrudged the courts of heaven;
Now learn thy woes, unhappy dame,
Nor think too late that mine the blame.
While Latium yet could keep the field
And Fate seemed kind, I cast my shield
O'er Turnus and his town:
Now in ill hour he tempts the fray,
And baleful force and Fate's dark day
From heaven are swooping down.