fame,
With prophet power he next relates
The war that in the future waits,
Italia’s fated realm describes,
Latinus’ town, Laurentum’s tribes,
And tells him how to face or fly
Each cloud that darkens o’er his sky.—
Sleep gives his name to portals twain:
One all of horn, they say,
Through which authentic spectres gain
Quick exit into day,
And one which bright with ivory gleams,
Whence Pluto sends delusive dreams.
Conversing still, the sire attends
The travellers on their road,
And through the ivory portal sends
From forth the unseen abode.
The chief betakes him to the fleet,
Well pleased again his crew to meet:
Then to Caieta’s port sets sail,
Straight coasting by the strand:
The anchors from the prow they hale:
The sterns are turned to land.

  By PanEris using Melati.

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