Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/43

E'en so your ships, your martial train,
Have gained the port, or stand to gain.
Then pause not further, but proceed
Still following where the road shall lead.'

She turned, and flashed upon their view
Her stately neck's purpureal hue;
Ambrosial tresses round her head
A more than earthly fragrance shed:
Her falling robe her footprints swept,
And showed the goddess as she stept;
While he, at length his mother known,
Pursues her with complaining tone:
'And art thou cruel like the rest?
Why cheat so oft thy son's fond eyes?
Why cannot hand in hand be pressed,
And speech exchanged without disguise?'
So ring the words of fond regret
While toward the town his face is set.
But Venus either traveller shrouds
With thickest panoply of clouds,
That none may see them, touch, nor stay,
Nor, idly asking, breed delay.
She through the sky to Paphos moves,
And seeks the temple of her loves,
Where from a hundred altars rise
Rich steam and flowerets' odorous sighs.

Meantime, the path itself their clue,
With speed their journey they pursue;
And now they climb the hill, whose frown
On the tall towers looks lowering down,
And beetles o'er the fronting town.
Æneas marvelling views the pile
Of stately structures, huts erewhile,