And bare exposed the bosom of the deep;
Then, as an eagle grips the trembling game,
The wretch yet hissing with her father's flame
She strongly seized, and with a burning wound,
Transfixed and naked, on a rock she bound.
But I, who walk in awful state above,
The majesty of Heaven, the sister-wife of Jove,
For length of years my fruitless force employ
Against the thin remains of ruined Troy.
What nations now to Juno's power will pray,
Or offerings on my slighted altars lay ?"

Thus raged the goddess, and with fury fraught,
The restless regions of the storms she sought,
Where in a spacious cave of living stone,
The tyrant Æolus from his airy throne,
With power imperial curbs the struggling winds,
And sounding tempests in dark prisons binds.
This way and that the impatient captives tend,
And pressing for release, the mountains rend:
High in his hall the undaunted monarch stands,
And shakes his sceptre, and their rage commands;
Which did he not, their unresisted sway

Would sweep the world before them in their way :
Earth, air, and seas through empty space would roll,
And Heaven would fly before the driving soul.

In fear of this, the father of the gods

Confined their fury to those dark abodes,

And locked them safe within, oppressed with mountain loads;

Imposed a king, with arbitrary sway,

To loose their fetters, or their force allay.

To whom the suppliant Queen her prayers addressed,
And thus the tenor of her suit expressed :-

:

"O Æolus! for to thee the King of Heaven

The power of tempests and of winds has given :

Thy force alone their fury can restrain,

And smooth the waves or swell the troubled main :

A race of wandering slaves, abhorred by me,

With prosperous passage cut the Tuscan sea:

To fruitful Italy their course they steer,

And for their vanquished gods design new temples there.

Raise all thy winds, with night involve the skies;

Sink or disperse my fatal enemies.

Twice seven, the charming daughters of the main,

Around my person wait, and bear my train;

Succeed my wish, and second my design,

The fairest, Deiopeia, shall be thine,
And make thee father of a happy line."

To this the god :-"'Tis yours, O Queen! to will The work which duty binds me to fulfil.

These airy kingdoms and this wide command
Are all the presents of your bounteous hand;
Yours is my sovereign's grace, and, as your guest,
I sit with gods at their celestial feast.
Raise tempests at your pleasure, or subdue;
Dispose of empire, which I hold from you."
He said, and hurled against the mountain side
His quivering spear, and all the god applied.
The raging winds rush through the hollow wound,
And dance aloft in air, and skim along the ground:
Then settling on the sea, the surges sweep,
Raise liquid mountains, and disclose the deep.
South, east, and west, with mixed confusion roar,
And roll the foaming billows to the shore.
The cables crack, the sailors' fearful cries
Ascend; and sable night involves the skies,
And Heaven itself is ravished from their eyes.
Loud peals of thunder from the poles ensue,
Then flashing fires the transient light renew;
The face of things a frightful image bears,
And present death in various forms appears.
Struck with unusual fright, the Trojan chief,
With lifted hands and eyes, invokes relief.
"And thrice and four times happy those," he cried,
"That under Ilian walls before their parents died.
Tydides, bravest of the Grecian train,
Why could not I by that strong arm be slain,
And lie by noble Hector on the plain,
O great Sarpedon, in those bloody fields
Where Simois rolls the bodies and the shields
Of heroes, whose dismembered hands yet bear
The dart aloft, and clench the pointed spear?"
Thus while the pious prince his fate bewails,
Fierce Boreas drove against his flying sails,
And rent the sheets: the raging billows rise,
And mount the tossing vessel to the skies:
Nor can the shivering oars sustain the blow;
The galley gives her side, and turns her prow:
While those astern, descending down the steep,
Through gaping waves behold the boiling deep.
Three ships were hurried by the southern blast,
And on the secret shelves with fury cast.

Those hidden rocks the Ausonian sailors knew,
They called them altars, when they rose in view,
And showed their spacious backs above the flood.
Three more, fierce Eurus in his angry mood,
Dashed on the shallows of the moving sand,
And in mid-ocean left them moored a-land.
Orontes' barque, that bore the Lycian crew,
(A horrid sight) even in the hero's view,
From stem to stern by waves was overborne ;
The trembling pilot, from his rudder torn,

Was headlong hurled, thrice round the ship was tossed,
Then bulged at once, and in the deep was lost.
And here and there above the waves were seen
Arms, pictures, precious goods, and floating men.
The stoutest vessel to the storm gave way,

And sucked through loosened planks the rushing sea.
Ilioneus was her chief: Alethes old,

Achates faithful, Abas young and bold,

Endured not less: their ships, with gaping seams,
Admit the deluge of the briny streams.

Meantime imperial Neptune heard the sound
Of raging billows breaking on the ground;
Displeased, and fearing for his watery reign,
He reared his awful head above the main ;
Serene in majesty, then rolled his eyes
Around the space of earth, and seas, and skies.
He saw the Trojan fleet dispersed, distressed,
By stormy winds and wintry heaven oppressed.
Full well the god his sister's envy knew,
And what her aims and what her arts pursue.
He summoned Eurus and the western blast,
And first an angry glance on both he cast,

Then thus rebuked: "Audacious winds! from whence
This bold attempt, this rebel insolence?
Is it for you to ravage seas and land

Unauthorised by my supreme command?

To raise such mountains on the troubled main?
Whom I-but first 'tis fit the billows to restrain,

And then you shall be taught obedience to my reign.
Hence, to your lord my royal mandate bear:

The realms of ocean and the fields of air

Are mine, not his; by fatal lot to me

The liquid empire fell, and trident of the sea.
His power to hollow caverns is confined,
There let him reign, the jailor of the wind;

With hoarse commands his breathing subjects call,

And boast and bluster in his empty hall."

He spoke; and while he spoke he smoothed the sea,
Dispelled the darkness and restored the day.
Cymothoe, Triton, and the sea-green train

Of beauteous nymphs, the daughters of the main,
Clear from the rocks the vessels with their hands.
The god himself, with ready trident stands,
And opes the deep and spreads the moving sands,
Then heaves them off the shoals. Where'er he guides
His finny coursers, and in triumph rides,
The waves unruffle and the sea subsides.
As when in tumults rise the ignoble crowd,

Mad are their motions and their tongues are loud;
And stones and brands in rattling volleys fly,
And all the rustic arms that fury can supply.
If then some grave and pious man appear,
They hush their noise and lend a listening ear;
He soothes with sober words their angry mood,
And quenches their innate desire of blood.
So when the father of the flood appears,
And o'er the seas his sovereign trident rears,
Their fury falls. He skims the liquid plains
High on his chariot, and with loosened reins
Majestic moves along, and awful peace maintains.
The weary Trojans ply their shattered oars
To nearest land, and make the Libyan shores.
Within a long recess there lies a bay,
An island shades it from the rolling sea,
And forms a port secure for ships to ride.
Broke by the jutting land on either side,
In double streams the briny waters glide
Betwixt two rows of rocks. A sylvan scene
Appears above, and groves for ever green.
A grot is formed beneath, with mossy seats,
To rest the Nereids, and exclude the heats.
Down through the crannies of the living walls
The crystal streams descend in murmuring falls.
No hawsers need to bind the vessels here,
Nor bearded anchors, for no storms they fear.
Seven ships within this happy harbour meet,
The thin remainders of the scattered fleet.

The Trojans, worn with toils and spent with woes,
Leap on the welcome land, and seek their wished repose.
First, good Achates, with repeated strokes

Of clashing flints, their hidden fire provokes ;
Short flame succeeds, a bed of withered leaves

The dying sparkles in their fall receives.
Caught into life, in fiery fumes they rise,
And, fed with stronger food, invade the skies,
The Trojans, dropping wet, or stand around
The cheerful blaze, or lie along the ground.
Some dry their corn, infected with the brine,
Then grind with marbles, and prepare to dine.
Æneas climbs the mountain's airy brow,
And takes a prospect of the seas below,
If Capys thence, or Antheus he could spy,
Or see the streamers of Caïcus fly.

No vessels were in view; but on the plain,
Three beamy stags command a lordly train
Of branching heads; the more ignoble throng
Attend their stately steps, and slowly graze along.
He stood; and while secure they fed below,
He took the quiver, and the trusty bow
Achates used to bear; the leaders first
He laid along, and then the vulgar pierced;
Nor ceased his arrows till the shady plain
Seven mighty bodies with their blood distain.
For the seven ships he made an equal share,
And to the port returned, triumphant from the war.
The jars of generous wine (Acestes' gift,
When his Trinacrian shores the navy left)
He set abroach, and for the feast prepared,
In equal portions with the venison shared.
Thus while he dealt it round, the pious chief
With cheerful words allayed the common grief:
66 Endure and conquer; Jove will soon dispose
To future good our past and present woes.
With me the rocks of Scylla you have tried,
Th' inhuman Cyclops and his den defied,
What greater ills hereafter can you bear?
Resume your courage, and dismiss your care.
An hour will come, with pleasure to relate
Your sorrows past, as benefits of fate.
Through various hazards and events we move
To Latium, and the realms foredoomed by Jove.
Called to the seat (the promise of the skies),
Where Trojan kingdoms once again may rise,
Endure the hardships of your present state,
Live, and reserve yourselves for better fate."

These words he spoke; but spoke not from his heart;
His outward smiles concealed his inward smart.
The jolly crew, unmindful of the past,