Quick rose the aged dame, with trembling limbs The light to bring; and Ilia then, from sleep aroused, With tears and terror tells her wondrous dream:— “Child of Eurydice, by our sire beloved, Through all my fibres fail my strength and life. A goodly man, methought, bore me away Through pleasant willow-groves and places strange. Next, all alone I seemed to wander desolate, And slowly, sister, to retrace my steps, Thee seeking but not finding; nor did path Steady my steps. Soon a familiar voice— My father’s—thus with pitying accents spoke: ‘Daughter, ’tis thine deep sorrow to endure; This borne, thy great good fortune then is sure!’ He spoke, and suddenly departing, gave To my fond yearning arms no sweet embrace. Alas! I saw him not, though eagerly To the blue vault of heaven I stretched my hands, And called on him with loving tones. At last, With aching heart sleep left me, and I woke.” The “Annals” were continued, and Homer’s Iliad was rendered into Latin hexameters, by imitators of Ennius. But they were third or fourth rate men, and epic poetry really slumbered after Ennius passed from the stage, till it wakened to new triumphs at the call of Virgil. SATIRIC POETRY. In this era, we have to chronicle the birth of a new plant in the parterre of Roman literature—Satirical Poetry. It was no exotic, but native-born. The germ appeared in Nævius, the bud in Ennius, the full-blown blossom in Lucilius, the ripe fruit in the golden age of Augustus; the leaves were still green in the declining days of the empire. =Lucilius= (148-103 B.C.), a Roman knight who fought under Scipio at the siege of Numantia, converted the _miscellanies_ (_saturæ_) of Ennius into true satire. Though a mere youth, he was intimate with Rome’s greatest statesmen, who were accustomed to doff their dignity in his lively society, and even to frolic with him before dinner. Shielded by them, and taking as his standard the stern morality and lofty patriotism of the fathers, he assailed with impunity prevalent social vices, ridiculed superstition, and denounced political corruption. In bold relief against this dark background he brought out the noble qualities of Scipio. Always arrayed on the side of virtue, he devoted his brilliant talents to the improvement of the public morals. Yet he occasionally stooped to abuse, if we may believe the story that, having once sued a person for attacking his character, he lost his case because it was shown that he himself was not above similar practices.