Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 2.djvu/210

But e'er we sail, his Fun'ral Rites prepare;
Then, to his Ghost, a Tomb and Altars rear.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$In mournful Pomp the Matrons walk the round: 90
With baleful Cypress, and blue Fillets crown'd;
With Eyes dejected, and with Hair unbound.
Then Bowls of tepid Milk and Blood we pour,
And thrice invoke the Soul of Polydore.
Now when the raging Storms no longer reign; 95
But Southern Gales invite us to the Main;
We launch our Vessels, with a prosp'rous Wind;
And leave the Cities and the Shores behind.
An Island in th' Ægean Main appears:
Neptune and wat'ry Doris claim it theirs. 100
It floated once, 'till Phœbus fix'd the sides
To rooted Earth, and now it braves the Tides.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$Here, born by friendly Winds, we come ashore,
With needful ease our weary Limbs restore;
And the Sun's Temple, and his Town adore. 105
Anius the Priest, and King, with Lawrel crown'd,
His hoary Locks with purple Fillets bound,
Who saw my Sire the Delian Shore ascend,
Came forth with eager haste to meet his Friend.
Invites him to his Palace; and in sign 110
Of ancient Love, their plighted Hands they join.
Then to the Temple of the God I went;
And thus, before the Shrine, my Vows present.
Give, O Thymbræus, give a resting place,
To the sad Relicks of the Trojan Race: 115

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