At length Hesperia you shall gain,
Where through a rich and peopled plain
Soft Tiber rolls his tide:
There a new realm, a royal wife,
Shall build again your shattered life.
Weep not your dear Creusa’s fate:
Ne’er through Mycenæ’s haughty gate
A captive shall I ride,
Nor swell some Grecian matron’s train,
I, born of Dardan princes’ strain,
To Venus’ seed allied:
Heaven’s mighty Mother keeps me here:
Farewell, and hold our offspring dear.’
Then, while I dewed with tears my cheek,
And strove a thousand things to speak,
She melted into night:
Thrice I essayed her neck to clasp:
Thrice the vain semblance mocked my grasp,
As wind or slumber light.
So now, the long, long night o’erpast,
I reach my weary friends at last.
There with amazement I behold
New-mustering comrades, young and old,
Sons, mothers, bound from home to flee,
A melancholy company.
They meet, prepared to brave the seas
And sail with me where’er I please.
Now, rising o’er the heights of Ide,
Shone the bright star, day’s orient guide:
The Danaans swarmed at every door,
Nor seemed there hope of safety more:
I yield to fate, take up my sire,
And to the mountain’s shade retire.
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