With silent awe, and purity of mind:
Gracious to them, his crest is seen to nod,
And, as an earnest of his care, the god,
Thrice hissing, vibrates thrice his forked tongue;
And now the smooth descent he glides along:
Still on the ancient seats he bends his eyes,
In which his statue breathes, his altars rise;
His long-loved shrine with kind concern he leases,
And to forsake the accustom’d mansion grieves:
At length his weeping bulk in state is borne
Through the throng’d streets, which scatter’d flowers adorn;
Through many a fold he winds his mazy course,
And gains the port and moles, which break the ocean’s force.
’Twas here he made a stand, and having view’d
The pious train, who his last steps pursued,
Seem’d to dismiss their zeal with gracious eyes,
While gleams of pleasure in his aspect rise.
And now the Latian vessel he ascends;
Beneath the weighty god the vessel bends:
The Latins on the strand great Jove appease,
Their cables loose, and plough the yielding seas:
The high-rear’d serpent from the stern displays
His gorgeous form, and the blue deep surveys;
The ship is wafted on with gentle gales,
And o’er the calm Ionian smoothly sails;
On the sixth morn the Italian coast they gain,
And touch Lacinia, graced with Juno’s fane;
Now fair Calabria to the sight is lost,
And all the cities on her fruitful coast;
They pass at length the rough Sicilian shore,
The Brutian soil, rich with metallic ore,
The famous isles, where Aeolus was king,
And Paestus blooming with eternal spring:
Minerva’s cape they leave, and Capreae’s isle,
Campania, on whose hills the vineyards smile,
The city, which Alcides’ spoils adorn,
Naples, for soft delight and pleasure born;
Fair Stabiae, with Cumean sibyls’ seats,
And Baiae’s tepid baths, and green retreats;
Linternum next they reach, where balmy gums
Distil from mastic trees, and spread perfumes;
Cajeta, from the nurse so named for whom
With pious care Aeneas raised a tomb.
Vulturne, whose whirlpools suck the numerous sands,
And Trachas, and Minturnae’s marshy lands,
And Formia’s coast is left, and Circe’s plain,
Which yet remembers her enchanting reign;
To Antium, last, his course the pilot guides.
Here, while the anchor’d vessel safely rides,
(For now the ruffled deep portends a storm,)
The spiry god unfolds his spheric form,
Through large indentings draws his lubric train,
And seeks the refuge of Apollo’s fane;
The fane is situate on the yellow shore:
When the sea smiled, and the winds raged no more,
He leaves his father’s hospitable lands,
And furrows, with his rattling scales, the sands
Along the coast; at length the ship regains,
And sails to Tibur, and Lavinium’s plains.
Here mingling crowds to meet their patron came,
Ev’n the chaste guardians of the Vestal flame,
From every part tumultuous they repair,
And joyful acclamations rend the air:
Along the flow’ry banks, on either side,
Where the tall ship floats on the swelling tide,
Disposed in decent order altars rise,
And crackling incense, as it mounts the skies,
The air with sweets refreshes; while the knife,
Warm with the victim’s blood, lets out the streaming life.
The world’s great mistress, Rome, receives him now;
On the mast’s top reclined he waves his brow,
And from that height surveys the great abodes,
And mansions, worthy of residing gods.
The land, a narrow neck, itself extends,
Round which his course the stream divided bends;
The stream’s two arms, on either side, are seen,
Stretch’d out in equal length; the land between.
The isle, so call’d, from hence derives its name:
’Twas here the salutary serpent came;
Nor sooner has he left the Latian pine,
But he assumes again his form divine,
And now no more the drooping city mourns,
Joy is again restored, and health returns.
Deification of Julius Caesar
Venus, unable to arrest the impending death of Julius Cesar, procures his admission into the celestial mansions.
But Esculapius was a foreign power:
In his own city Caesar we adore:
Him arms and arts alike renown’d beheld,
In peace conspicuous, dreadful in the field;
His rapid conquests, and swift-finish’d wars,
The hero justly fix’d among the stars;
Yet is his progeny his greatest fame:
The son immortal makes the father’s name.
The sea-girt Britons, by his courage tamed,
For their high rocky cliffs, and fierceness famed;
His dreadful navies, which victorious rode
O’er Nile’s affrighted waves and seven-sourced flood;
Numidia, and the spacious realms regain’d,
Where Cinyphis or flows, or Juba reign’d;
The powers of titled Mithridates broke,
And Pontus added to the Roman yoke;
Triumphal shows decreed, for conquests won,
For conquests, which the triumphs still outshone;
These are great deeds; yet less, than to have given
The world a lord, in whom, propitious Heaven,
When you decreed the sovereign rule to place,
You bless’d with lavish bounty human race.
Now lest so great a prince might seem to rise
Of mortal stem, his sire must reach the skies;
The beauteous goddess, that Aeneas bore,
Foresaw it, and foreseeing did deplore;
For well she knew her hero’s fate was nigh,
Devoted by conspiring arms to die.
Trembling, and pale, Jo every god she cried:
“Behold, what deep and subtle arts are tried,
To end the last, the only branch that springs
From my lulus, and the Dardan kings!
How bent they are! how desperate to destroy
All that is left me of unhappy Troy!
Am I alone by fate ordain’d to know
Uninterrupted care and endless wo?
Now from Tydides’ spear I feel the wound:
Now Ilium’s towers the hostile flames surround:
Troy laid in dust, my exiled son I mourn,
Through angry seas, and raging billows borne;
O’er the wide deep his wandering course he bends;
Now to the sullen shades of Styx descends:
With Turnus driven at last fierce wars to wage,
Whether with unpitying Juno’s rage.
But why record I now my ancient woes?
Sense of past ills in present fears I lose;
On me their points the impious daggers throw;
Forbid it, gods, repel the direful blow:
If by cursed weapons Numa’s priest expires,
No longer shall ye burn, ye Vestal fires.”
While such complainings Cypria’s grief disclose,
In each celestial breast compassion rose:
Not gods can alter fate’s resistless will;
Yet they foretold by signs the approaching ill.
Dreadful were heard, among the clouds, alarms
Of echoing trumpets, and of clashing arms;
The sun’s pale image gave so faint a light,
That the sad earth was almost veil’d in night;
The ether’s face with fiery meteors glow’d;
With storms of hail were mingled drops of blood;
A dusky hue the morning star o’erspread,
And the moon’s orb was stain’d with spots of red;
In every place portentous shrieks were heard,
The fatal warnings of the infernal bird;
In every place the marble melts to tears;
While in the groves, revered through length of
