ISBN: 1176170112 / ISBN-13: 9781176170117
The Aeneids of Virgil
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from ... Show synopsis This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1876 edition. Excerpt: ...Dardanus, who reached at last the Phrygian Ida's walls, And Thracian Samos, that the world now Samothracia calls: From Tuscan stead of Corythus he went upon his ways; Whose throne is set in golden heaven, the star-besprinkled place, 210 Who adds one other to the tale of altared deities." He ended, but Ilioneus followed in words like these: "0 king, O glorious Faunus' child, no storm upon the main Drave us amid the drift of waves your country coast to gain; And neither star nor strand made blind the region of our road; But we by counsel and free will have sought out thine abode, Outcast from such a realm as once was deemed the mightiest The Sun beheld, as o'er the heaven she ran from east to west. Jove is the well-spring of our race; the Dardan children joy In Jove for father; yea, our king, tineas out of Troy, 220 Who sends us to thy door, himself is of the Highest's seed. How great a tempest was let loose o'er our Idaean mead, From dire Mycenae sent; what fate drave either clashing world, Europe and Asia, till the war each against each they hurled, His ears have heard, who dwells afar upon the land alone That ocean beats; and his no less the bondman of the zone, That midmost lieth of the four, by cruel sun-blaze worn. Lo, from that flood we come to thee, o'er waste of waters borne, Praying a strip of harmless shore our House-Gods' home to be, o And grace of water and of air to all men lying free. 130 We shall not foul our land's renown; and thou, thy glory fair We know, and plenteous fruit of thanks this deed of thine shall bear: Nor ever may embrace of Troy Ausonia's soul despite. Now by Eneas' fates I swear, and by his hand of might, Whether in troth it hath been tried, or mid the hosts of war, That many folks--yea, scorn us not that willingly...