In ages gone an ancient city stood—Carthage, a Tyrian seat, which from afarmade front on Italy and on the mouthsof Tiber's stream; its wealth and revenueswere vast, and ruthless was its quest of war.'T is said that Juno, of all lands she loved,most cherished this,—not Samos' self so dear.Here were her arms, her chariot; even thena throne of power o'er nations near and far,if Fate opposed not, 't was her darling hopeto 'stablish here; but anxiously she heardthat of the Trojan blood there was a breedthen rising, which upon the destined dayshould utterly o'erwhelm her Tyrian towers,a people of wide sway and conquest proudshould compass Libya's doom;—such was the webthe Fatal Sisters spun. Such was the fearof Saturn's daughter, who remembered wellwhat long and unavailing strife she wagedfor her loved Greeks at Troy. Nor did she failto meditate th' occasions of her rage,and cherish deep within her bosom proudits griefs and wrongs: the choice by Paris made;her scorned and slighted beauty; a whole racerebellious to her godhead; and Jove's smilethat beamed on eagle-ravished Ganymede.With all these thoughts infuriate, her powerpursued with tempests o'er the boundless mainthe Trojans, though by Grecian victor sparedand fierce Achilles; so she thrust them farfrom Latium; and they drifted, Heaven-impelled,year after year, o'er many an unknown sea—O labor vast, to found the Roman line!

Below th' horizon the Sicilian islejust sank from view, as for the open seawith heart of hope they sailed, and every shipclove with its brazen beak the salt, white waves.But Juno of her everlasting woundknew no surcease, but from her heart of painthus darkly mused: “Must I, defeated, failof what I will, nor turn the Teucrian Kingfrom Italy away? Can Fate oppose?Had Pallas power to lay waste in flamethe Argive fleet and sink its mariners,revenging but the sacrilege obsceneby Ajax wrought, Oileus' desperate son?She, from the clouds, herself Jove's lightning threw,scattered the ships, and ploughed the sea with storms.Her foe, from his pierced breast out-breathing fire,in whirlwind on a deadly rock she flung.But I, who move among the gods a queen,Jove's sister and his spouse, with one weak tribemake war so long! Who now on Juno calls?What suppliant gifts henceforth her altars crown?”