First, his dissembled Father he carest,960
Hung round his Neck, and play’d upon his Breast;
Then to the Queen’s Embraces he withdrew,
She look’d, and lent her Soul at every View;
Then took him on her Lap, devour’d his Charms;
Nor knew poor Dido, blind to future Harms,965
How great a God she fondled in her Arms.
But he, now mindful of his Mother, stole
By slow Degrees Sichaeus from her Soul;
Her Soul, rekindling, in her Husband’s stead
Admits the Prince; the Living for the Dead.970
Soon as the Banquet paus’d, to raise their Souls,
With sparkling Wine they crown the massy Bowls.
Thro’ the wide Hall the rolling Eccho bounds,
The Palace rings, the vaulted Dome resounds.
The blazing Torches, and the Lamps, display,975
From golden Roofs, an artificial Day.
Now Dido crowns the Bowl of State with Wine,
The Bowl of Belus, and the regal Line.
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VIRGIL’s Æneid.
57
H
Her
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