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rose, and looking up, beheld the skies
With purple blushing, and the day arise.
Then water in his hollow palm he took
From Tiber’s flood, and thus the pow’rs bespoke:
“Laurentian nymphs, by whom the streams are fed,
And Father Tiber, in thy sacred bed
Receive Aeneas, and from danger keep.
Whatever fount, whatever holy deep,
Conceals thy wat’ry stores; where’er they rise,
And, bubbling from below, salute the skies;
Thou, king of horned floods, whose plenteous urn
Suffices fatness to the fruitful corn,
For this thy kind compassion of our woes,
Shalt share my morning song and ev’ning vows.
But, O be present to thy people’s aid,
And firm the gracious promise thou hast made!”
Thus having said, two galleys from his stores,
With care he chooses, mans, and fits with oars.
Now on the shore the fatal swine is found.
Wond’rous to tell!⁠—She lay along the ground:
Her well-fed offspring at her udders hung;
She white herself, and white her thirty young.
Aeneas takes the mother and her brood,
And all on Juno’s altar are bestow’d.

The foll’wing night, and the succeeding day,
Propitious Tiber smooth’d his wat’ry way:
He roll’d his river back, and pois’d he stood,
A gentle swelling, and a peaceful flood.
The Trojans mount their ships; they put from shore,
Borne on the waves, and scarcely dip an oar.
Shouts from the land give omen to their course,
And the pitch’d vessels glide with easy force.
The woods and waters wonder at the gleam
Of shields, and painted ships that stem the stream.
One summer’s night and one whole day they pass
Betwixt the greenwood shades, and cut the liquid glass.
The fiery sun had finish’d half his race,
Look’d back, and doubted in the middle space,
When they from far beheld the rising tow’rs,
The tops of sheds, and shepherds’ lowly bow’rs,
Thin as they stood, which, then of homely clay,
Now rise in marble, from the Roman sway.
These cots (Evander’s kingdom, mean and poor)
The Trojan saw, and turn’d his ships to shore.
’Twas on a solemn day: th’ Arcadian states,
The king and prince, without the city gates,
Then paid their off’rings in a sacred grove
To Hercules, the warrior son of Jove.
Thick clouds of rolling smoke involve the skies,
And fat of entrails on his altar fries.

But, when they saw the ships that stemm’d the flood,
And glitter’d thro’ the covert of the wood,
They rose with fear, and left th’ unfinish’d feast,
Till dauntless Pallas reassur’d the rest
To pay the rites. Himself without delay
A jav’lin seiz’d, and singly took his way;
Then gain’d a rising ground, and call’d from far:
“Resolve me, strangers, whence, and what you are;
Your bus’ness here; and bring you peace or war?”
High on the stern Aeneas took his stand,
And held a branch of olive in his hand,
While thus he spoke: “The Phrygians’ arms you see,
Expell’d from Troy, provok’d in Italy
By Latian foes, with war unjustly made;
At first affianc’d, and at last betray’d.
This message bear: ‘The Trojans and their chief
Bring holy peace, and beg the king’s relief.’
Struck with so great a name, and all on fire,
The youth replies: “Whatever you require,
Your fame exacts. Upon our shores descend.
A welcome guest, and, what you wish, a friend.”
He said, and, downward hasting to the strand,
Embrac’d the stranger prince, and join’d his hand.

Conducted to the grove, Aeneas broke
The silence first, and thus the king bespoke:
“Best of the Greeks, to whom, by fate’s command,
I bear these peaceful branches in my hand,
Undaunted I approach you, tho’ I know
Your birth is Grecian, and your land my foe;
From Atreus tho’ your ancient lineage came,
And both the brother kings your kindred claim;
Yet, my self-conscious worth, your high renown,
Your virtue, thro’ the neighb’ring nations blown,
Our fathers’ mingled blood, Apollo’s voice,
Have led me hither, less by need than choice.
Our founder Dardanus, as fame has sung,
And Greeks acknowledge, from Electra sprung:
Electra from the loins of Atlas came;
Atlas, whose head sustains the starry frame.
Your sire is Mercury, whom long before
On cold Cyllene’s top fair Maia bore.
Maia the fair, on fame if we rely,
Was Atlas’ daughter, who sustains the sky.
Thus from one common source our streams divide;
Ours is the Trojan, yours th’ Arcadian side.
Rais’d by these hopes, I sent no news before,
Nor ask’d your leave, nor did your faith implore;
But come, without a pledge, my own ambassador.
The same Rutulians, who with arms pursue
The Trojan race, are equal foes to you.
Our host expell’d, what farther force can stay
The victor troops from universal sway?
Then will they stretch their pow’r athwart the land,
And either sea from side to side command.
Receive our offer’d faith, and give us thine;
Ours is a gen’rous and experienc’d line:
We want not hearts nor bodies for the war;
In council cautious, and in fields we dare.”

He said; and while spoke, with piercing eyes
Evander view’d the man with vast surprise,
Pleas’d with his action, ravish’d with his face:
Then answer’d briefly, with a royal grace:
“O valiant leader of the Trojan line,
In whom the features of thy father shine,
How I recall Anchises! how I see
His motions, mien, and all my friend, in thee!
Long tho’ it be, ’tis fresh within my mind,
When Priam to his sister’s court design’d
A welcome visit, with a friendly stay,
And thro’ th’ Arcadian kingdom took his way.
Then, past a boy, the callow down began
To shade my chin, and call me first a man.
I saw the shining train with vast delight,
And Priam’s goodly person pleas’d my sight:
But great Anchises, far above the rest,
With awful wonder fir’d my youthful breast.
I long’d to join in friendship’s holy bands
Our mutual hearts, and plight our mutual hands.
I first accosted him: I sued, I sought,
And, with a loving force, to Pheneus brought.
He gave me, when at length constrain’d to go,
A Lycian quiver and a Gnossian bow,
A vest embroider’d, glorious to behold,
And two rich bridles, with their bits of gold,
Which my son’s coursers in obedience hold.
The league you ask, I offer, as your right;
And, when tomorrow’s sun reveals the light,
With swift supplies you shall be sent away.
Now celebrate with us this solemn day,
Whose holy rites admit no long delay.
Honour our annual feast; and take your seat,
With friendly welcome, at a homely treat.”
Thus having said, the bowls (remov’d for fear)
The youths replac’d, and soon restor’d the cheer.
On sods of turf he set the soldiers round:
A maple throne, rais’d higher from the ground,
Receiv’d the Trojan chief; and, o’er the bed,
A lion’s shaggy hide

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