Aeneid
Virgil
Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.
- Such was his word, but vexed with grief and care,
- feigned hopes upon his forehead firm he wore,
- and locked within his heart a hero's pain.
- Now round the welcome trophies of his chase
- they gather for a feast. Some flay the ribs
- and bare the flesh below; some slice with knives,
- and on keen prongs the quivering strips impale,
- place cauldrons on the shore, and fan the fires.
- Then, stretched at ease on couch of simple green,
- they rally their lost powers, and feast them well
- on seasoned wine and succulent haunch of game.
- But hunger banished and the banquet done,
- in long discourse of their lost mates they tell,
- 'twixt hopes and fears divided; for who knows
- whether the lost ones live, or strive with death,
- or heed no more whatever voice may call?
- Chiefly Aeneas now bewails his friends,
- Orontes brave and fallen Amycus,
- or mourns with grief untold the untimely doom
- of bold young Gyas and Cloanthus bold.
- After these things were past, exalted Jove,
- from his ethereal sky surveying clear
- the seas all winged with sails, lands widely spread,
- and nations populous from shore to shore,
- paused on the peak of heaven, and fixed his gaze
- on Libya. But while he anxious mused,
- near him, her radiant eyes all dim with tears,
- nor smiling any more, Venus approached,
- and thus complained: “O thou who dost control
- things human and divine by changeless laws,
- enthroned in awful thunder! What huge wrong
- could my Aeneas and his Trojans few
- achieve against thy power? For they have borne
- unnumbered deaths, and, failing Italy,
- the gates of all the world against them close.
- Hast thou not given us thy covenant
- that hence the Romans when the rolling years
- have come full cycle, shall arise to power
- from Troy's regenerate seed, and rule supreme
- the unresisted lords of land and sea?
- O Sire, what swerves thy will? How oft have I
- in Troy's most lamentable wreck and woe
- consoled my heart with this, and balanced oft
- our destined good against our destined ill!
- But the same stormful fortune still pursues
- my band of heroes on their perilous way.
- When shall these labors cease, O glorious King?
- Antenor, though th' Achaeans pressed him sore,
- found his way forth, and entered unassailed
- Illyria's haven, and the guarded land
- of the Liburni. Straight up stream he sailed
- where like a swollen sea Timavus pours
- a nine-fold flood from roaring mountain gorge,
- and whelms with voiceful wave the fields below.
- He built Patavium there, and fixed abodes
- for Troy's far-exiled sons; he gave a name
- to a new land and race; the Trojan arms
- were hung on temple walls; and, to this day,
- lying in perfect peace, the hero sleeps.
- But we of thine own seed, to whom thou dost
- a station in the arch of heaven assign,
- behold our navy vilely wrecked, because
- a single god is angry; we endure
- this treachery and violence, whereby
- wide seas divide us from th' Hesperian shore.
- Is this what piety receives? Or thus
- doth Heaven's decree restore our fallen thrones?”