Page:An Essay on Virgil's Æneid.djvu/14

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10
The First Book of

The Winds, embattled, as the Mountain rent,
Flew all at once impetuous thro’ the Vent:
Earth, in their Course, with giddy Whirls they sweep,
Rush to the Seas, and bare the Bosom of the Deep:
East, West, and South, all black with Tempests, roar,115
And roll vast Billows to the trembling Shore.
The Cordage cracks; with unavailing Cries
The Trojans mourn; while sudden Clouds arise,
And ravish from their Sight the Splendors of the Skies.
Night hovers o’er the Deeps; the Day retires;120
The Heav’ns flash thick with momentary Fires;
Loud Thunders shake the Poles; from ev’ry Place
Grim Death appear’d, and glar’d in ev’ry Face.

Congeal'd with Fear the Trojan Hero stands,
He groans, and spreads to Heav’n his lifted Hands.125
Thrice happy those whose Fate it was to fall
(Exclaims the Chief) beneath the Trojan Wall.

Oh!