Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 2.djvu/140

You, who your pious Offices employ 840
To save the Reliques of abandon'd Troy;
Receive the Shipwreck'd on your friendly Shore,
With hospitable Rites relieve the Poor:
Associate in your Town a wandring Train,
And strangers in your Palace entertain. 845
What thanks can wretched Fugitives return,
Who scatter'd thro' the World in exile mourn?
The Gods, (if Gods to Goodness are inclin'd,)
If Acts of mercy touch their Heav'nly Mind;
And more than all the Gods, your gen'rous heart, 850
Conscious of worth, requite its own desert!
In you this Age is happy, and this Earth:
And Parents more than Mortal gave you birth.
While rowling Rivers into Seas shall run,
And round the space of Heav'n the radiant Sun; 855
While Trees the Mountain tops with Shades supply,
Your Honour, Name, and Praise shall never dye.
What e'er abode my Fortune has assign'd,
Your Image shall be present in my Mind.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Thus having said, he turn'd with pious haste, 860
And joyful his expecting Friends embrac'd:
With his right hand Ilioneus was grac'd,
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Serestus with his left; then to his breast
Cloanthus and the Noble Gyas prest,
And so by turns descended to the rest. 865
The Tyrian Queen stood fix'd upon his Face,
Pleas'd with his motions, ravish'd with his grace: