Kitap 1
in early summer amid sunbeams toil,
418
leading abroad their nation's youthful brood;
or with the flowing honey storing close
the pliant cells, until they quite run o'er
with nectared sweet; while from the entering swarm
they take their little loads; or lined for war,
rout the dull drones, and chase them from the hive;
brisk is the task, and all the honeyed air
breathes odors of wild thyme. “How blest of Heaven.
These men that see their promised ramparts rise!”
Aeneas sighed; and swift his glances moved
from tower to tower; then on his way he fared,
veiled in the wonder-cloud, whence all unseen
of human eyes,—O strange the tale and true!—
he threaded the thronged streets, unmarked, unknown.
Deep in the city's heart there was a grove
441
of beauteous shade, where once the Tyrians,
cast here by stormful waves, delved out of earth
that portent which Queen Juno bade them find,—
the head of a proud horse,—that ages long
their boast might be wealth, luxury and war.
Upon this spot Sidonian Dido raised
a spacious fane to Juno, which became
splendid with gifts, and hallowed far and wide
for potency divine. Its beams were bronze,
and on loud hinges swung the brazen doors.
A rare, new sight this sacred grove did show,
which calmed Aeneas' fears, and made him bold
to hope for safety, and with lifted heart
from his low-fallen fortunes re-aspire.
For while he waits the advent of the Queen,
he scans the mighty temple, and admires
the city's opulent pride, and all the skill
its rival craftsmen in their work approve.
Behold! he sees old Ilium's well-fought fields
in sequent picture, and those famous wars
now told upon men's lips the whole world round.
There Atreus' sons, there kingly Priam moved,
and fierce Pelides pitiless to both.
Aeneas paused, and, weeping, thus began:
