He ceased, when from the tomb below
A serpent, clad in glittering scales,
Seven coils, seven giant volumes trails,
Winds smoothly round the mound of green,
And glides the altar-fires between,
His long back dappled with a glow
Half green, half golden, like the bow
That flashes 'gainst the sunlit skies
A thousand variegated dyes.
Then, as amazed Æneas stood,
'Twixt bowl and cup the reptile wound,
Took tithing of the sacred food,
And harmless vanished 'neath the mound.
With zeal renewed the duteous son
Applies him to the rite begun,
Unknowing in his wondering awe
How best to name the beast he saw,
The genius of the spot they tread,
Or menial follower of the dead:
At once he slays two fatted swine,
Two youngling sheep, two sable kine,
Pours out the sacrificial wine,
And on his mighty father calls,
The shade whom Pluto disenthralls.
Each from his store, the Trojans gay
Present their gifts, their victims slay,
Set on and heat the brimming brass,
Then stretch them careless on the grass:
Strow 'neath the spits a fiery bed,
And roast the flesh on embers red.
And now the expected day is here:
The ninth fair morn in lustre clear
Is driving o'er the sky:
Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/160
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136
THE ÆNEID.
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