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swelling dugs they hung;
The foster dam lollā€™d out her fawning tongue:
They suckā€™d secure, while, bending back her head,
She lickā€™d their tender limbs, and formā€™d them as they fed.
Not far from thence new Rome appears, with games
Projected for the rape of Sabine dames.
The pit resounds with shrieks; a war succeeds,
For breach of public faith, and unexampled deeds.
Here for revenge the Sabine troops contend;
The Romans there with arms the prey defend.
Wearied with tedious war, at length they cease;
And both the kings and kingdoms plight the peace.
The friendly chiefs before Joveā€™s altar stand,
Both armā€™d, with each a charger in his hand:
A fatted sow for sacrifice is led,
With imprecations on the perjurā€™d head.
Near this, the traitor Metius, stretchā€™d between
Four fiery steeds, is draggā€™d along the green,
By Tullusā€™ doom: the brambles drink his blood,
And his torn limbs are left the vultureā€™s food.
There, Porsena to Rome proud Tarquin brings,
And would by force restore the banishā€™d kings.
One tyrant for his fellow-tyrant fights;
The Roman youth assert their native rights.
Before the town the Tuscan army lies,
To win by famine, or by fraud surprise.
Their king, half-threatā€™ning, half-disdaining stood,
While Cocles broke the bridge, and stemmā€™d the flood.
The captive maids there tempt the raging tide,
Scapā€™d from their chains, with Cloelia for their guide.
High on a rock heroic Manlius stood,
To guard the temple, and the templeā€™s god.
Then Rome was poor; and there you might behold
The palace thatchā€™d with straw, now roofā€™d with gold.
The silver goose before the shining gate
There flew, and, by her cackle, savā€™d the state.
She told the Gaulsā€™ approach; thā€™ approaching Gauls,
Obscure in night, ascend, and seize the walls.
The gold dissembled well their yellow hair,
And golden chains on their white necks they wear.
Gold are their vests; long Alpine spears they wield,
And their left arm sustains a length of shield.
Hard by, the leaping Salian priests advance;
And naked throā€™ the streets the mad Luperci dance,
In caps of wool; the targets droppā€™d from heavā€™n.
Here modest matrons, in soft litters drivā€™n,
To pay their vows in solemn pomp appear,
And odorous gums in their chaste hands they bear.
Far hence removā€™d, the Stygian seats are seen;
Pains of the damnā€™d, and punishā€™d Catiline
Hung on a rockā ā€”the traitor; and, around,
The Furies hissing from the nether ground.
Apart from these, the happy souls he draws,
And Catoā€™s holy ghost dispensing laws.

Betwixt the quarters flows a golden sea;
But foaming surges there in silver play.
The dancing dolphins with their tails divide
The glittā€™ring waves, and cut the precious tide.
Amid the main, two mighty fleets engage
Their brazen beaks, opposā€™d with equal rage.
Actium surveys the well-disputed prize;
Leucateā€™s watā€™ry plain with foamy billows fries.
Young Caesar, on the stern, in armour bright,
Here leads the Romans and their gods to fight:
His beamy temples shoot their flames afar,
And oā€™er his head is hung the Julian star.
Agrippa seconds him, with prospā€™rous gales,
And, with propitious gods, his foes assails:
A naval crown, that binds his manly brows,
The happy fortune of the fight foreshows.
Rangā€™d on the line opposā€™d, Antonius brings
Barbarian aids, and troops of Eastern kings;
Thā€™ Arabians near, and Bactrians from afar,
Of tongues discordant, and a mingled war:
And, rich in gaudy robes, amidst the strife,
His ill fate follows him ā€”thā€™ Egyptian wife.
Moving they fight; with oars and forky prows
The froth is gatherā€™d, and the water glows.
It seems, as if the Cyclades again
Were rooted up, and justled in the main;
Or floating mountains floating mountains meet;
Such is the fierce encounter of the fleet.
Fireballs are thrown, and pointed javā€™lins fly;
The fields of Neptune take a purple dye.
The queen herself, amidst the loud alarms,
With cymbals tossā€™d her fainting soldiers warmsā ā€”
Fool as she was! who had not yet divinā€™d
Her cruel fate, nor saw the snakes behind.
Her country gods, the monsters of the sky,
Great Neptune, Pallas, and Loveā€™s Queen defy:
The dog Anubis barks, but barks in vain,
Nor longer dares oppose thā€™ ethereal train.
Mars in the middle of the shining shield
Is gravā€™d, and strides along the liquid field.
The Dirae souse from heavā€™n with swift descent;
And Discord, dyed in blood, with garments rent,
Divides the prease: her steps Bellona treads,
And shakes her iron rod above their heads.
This seen, Apollo, from his Actian height,
Pours down his arrows; at whose winged flight
The trembling Indians and Egyptians yield,
And soft Sabaeans quit the watā€™ry field.
The fatal mistress hoists her silken sails,
And, shrinking from the fight, invokes the gales.
Aghast she looks, and heaves her breast for breath,
Panting, and pale with fear of future death.
The god had figurā€™d her as drivā€™n along
By winds and waves, and scudding throā€™ the throng.
Just opposite, sad Nilus opens wide
His arms and ample bosom to the tide,
And spreads his mantle oā€™er the winding coast,
In which he wraps his queen, and hides the flying host.
The victor to the gods his thanks expressā€™d,
And Rome, triumphant, with his presence blessā€™d.
Three hundred temples in the town he placā€™d;
With spoils and altars evā€™ry temple gracā€™d.
Three shining nights, and three succeeding days,
The fields resound with shouts, the streets with praise,
The domes with songs, the theatres with plays.
All altars flame: before each altar lies,
Drenchā€™d in his gore, the destinā€™d sacrifice.
Great Caesar sits sublime upon his throne,
Before Apolloā€™s porch of Parian stone;
Accepts the presents vowā€™d for victory,
And hangs the monumental crowns on high.
Vast crowds of vanquishā€™d nations march along,
Various in arms, in habit, and in tongue.
Here, Mulciber assigns the proper place
For Carians, and thā€™ ungirt Numidian race;
Then ranks the Thracians in the second row,
With Scythians, expert in the dart and bow.
And here the tamā€™d Euphrates humbly glides,
And there the Rhine submits her swelling tides,
And proud Araxes, whom no bridge could bind;
The Danesā€™ unconquerā€™d offspring march behind,
And Morini, the last of humankind.

These figures, on the shield divinely wrought,
By Vulcan labourā€™d, and by Venus brought,
With joy and wonder fill the heroā€™s thought.
Unknown the names, he yet admires the grace,
And bears aloft the fame and fortune of his race.

Book IX

Turnus takes advantage of Aeneasā€™s absence, fires some of his ships (which are transformed into sea nymphs), and assaults his camp. The Trojans, reducā€™d to the last extremities, send Nisus and Euryalus to recall Aeneas; which furnishes the poet with that admirable episode of their friendship, generosity, and the conclusion of their adventure.

While these affairs in distant places passā€™d,
The various

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