Aeneas Sees His Wife

For while through winding Ways I took my Flight;
And sought the shelter of the gloomy Night;
Alas! I lost Creusa : hard to tell
If by her fatal Destiny she fell,
Or weary sate, or wander'd with affright;
But she was lost for ever to my sight.
I knew not, or reflected, 'till I meet
My Friends, at Ceres now deserted Seat:
We met: not one was wanting, only she
Deceiv'd her Friends, her Son, and wretched me.
What mad expressions did my Tongue refuse!
Whom did I not of Gods or Men accuse!
This was the fatal Blow, that pain'd me more
Than all I felt from ruin'd Troy before.
Stung with my Loss, and raving with Despair,
Abandoning my now forgotten Care,
Of Counsel, Comfort, and of Hope bereft,
My Sire, my Son, my Country Gods, I left.
In shining Armour once again I sheath
My Limbs, not feeling Wounds, nor fearing Death.
Then headlong to the burning Walls I run,
And seek the Danger I was forc'd to shun.
I tread my former Tracks: through Night explore
Each Passage, ev'ry Street I cross'd before.
All things were full of Horrour and Affright,
And dreadful ev'n the silence of the Night.
Then, to my Father's House I make repair,
With some small Glimps of hope to find her there:
Instead of her the cruel Greeks I met;
The house was fill'd with Foes, with Flames beset.
Driv'n on the wings of Winds, whole sheets of Fire,
Through Air transported, to the Roofs aspire.
From thence to Priam 's Palace I resort;
And search the Citadel, and desart Court.
Then, unobserv'd, I pass by Juno 's Church;
A guard of Grecians had possess'd the Porch:
There Phaenix and Ulysses watch the Prey:
And thither all the Wealth of Troy convey.
The Spoils which they from ransack'd Houses brought;
And golden Bowls from burning Altars caught.
The Tables of the Gods, the Purple Vests;
The People's Treasure, and the Pomp of Priests.
A ranck of wretched Youths, with pinion'd Hands,
And captive Matrons in long Order stands.
Then, with ungovern'd Madness, I proclaim,
Through all the silent Streets, Creusa 's Name.
Creusa still I call: At length she hears;
And suddain, through the Shades of Night appears.
Appears, no more Creusa , nor my Wife:
But a pale Spectre, larger than the Life.
Aghast, astonish'd, and struck dumb with Fear,
I stood; like Bristles rose my stiffen'd Hair.
Then thus the Ghost began to sooth my Grief:
Nor Tears, nor Cries can give the dead Relief;
Desist, my much lov'd Lord, t'indulge your Pain:
You bear no more than what the Gods ordain.
My Fates permit me not from hence to fly;
Nor he, the great Comptroller of the Sky.
Long wandring Ways for you the Pow'rs decree:
On land hard Labors, and a length of Sea.
Then, after many painful Years are past,
On Latium 's happy Shore you shall be cast:
Where gentle Tiber from his Bed beholds
The flow'ry Meadows, and the feeding Folds.
There end your Toils: And there your Fates provide
A quiet Kingdom, and a Royal Bride:
There Fortune shall the Trojan Line restore;
And you for lost Creusa weep no more.
Fear not that I shall watch with servile Shame,
Th'imperious Looks of some proud Grecian Dame:
Or, stooping to the Victor's Lust, disgrace
My Goddess Mother, or my Royal Race.
And now, farewell: the Parent of the Gods
Restrains my fleeting Soul in her Abodes:
I trust our common Issue to your Care.
She said: And gliding pass'd unseen in Air.
I strove to speak, but Horror ty'd my Tongue;
And thrice about her Neck my Arms I flung;
And thrice deceiv'd, on vain Embraces hung.
Light as an empty Dream at break of Day,
Or as a blast of Wind, she rush'd away.
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Virgil
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