Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/183

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BOOK V.
159

Young Alba learned the lesson set:
From Alba queenly Rome
Received the lore, and honours yet
The custom of her home,
And Troy's hereditary name
Still marks the players and the game.

Thus far the pageant rites were paid
To blest Anchises' hallowed shade.
Now Fortune first with wayward guile
Changed for a frown her former smile.
Fell Juno, while before the mound
The games perform their festal round,
Despatches Iris from the sky
And gives her wings of wind to fly,
Deep plotting ill, her ancient pride
Yet festering and unpacified.
Adown her bow of myiyad dyes,
Unseen of all, the maiden hies,
The mighty concourse she surveys,
Then turns her to the sea:
A port forsaken meets her gaze,
A fleet from tendance free.
But on a sheltered beach alone
The dames of Troy are making moan
For their lost sire, and as they weep
Look wistful, woful o'er the deep.
O weary, weary length of foam!
O watery waste whereon to roam!
So, one and all, they cry:
A settled city they implore:
'Twere pain and heaviness once more
The ocean's toils to try.
So now, not ignorant of harm,
The goddess veils each heavenly charm,