Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 2.djvu/202

Then thus the Ghost began to sooth my Grief:
Nor Tears, nor Cries can give the dead Relief;
Desist, my much lov'd Lord, t'indulge your Pain:
You bear no more than what the Gods ordain. 1055
My Fates permit me not from hence to fly;
Nor he, the great Comptroller of the Sky.
Long wandring Ways for you the Pow'rs decree:
On Land hard Labours, and a length of Sea.
Then, after many painful Years are past, 1060
On Latium's happy Shore you shall be cast:
Where gentle Tiber from his Bed beholds
The flow'ry Meadows, and the feeding Folds.
There end your Toils: And there your Fates provide
A quiet Kingdom, and a Royal Bride: 1065
There Fortune shall the Trojan Line restore;
And you for lost Creusa weep no more.
Fear not that I shall watch with servile Shame,
Th' imperious Looks of some proud Grecian Dame:
Or, stooping to the Victor's Lust, disgrace 1070
My Goddess Mother, or my Royal Race.
And now, farewell: the Parent of the Gods
Restrains my fleeting Soul in her Abodes:
I trust our common Issue to your Care.
She said: And gliding pass'd unseen in Air. 1075
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$I strove to speak, but Horror ty'd my Tongue;
And thrice about her Neck my Arms I flung;
And thrice deceiv'd, on vain Embraces hung.