“Now, rising from Tithonus’ bed, The Dawn on earth her freshness shed: The queen from off her turret height Perceives the first dim streak of light, The fleet careering on its way, And void and sailless shore and bay; She smites her breast, all snowy fair, And rends her golden length of hair: ‘Great Jove! and shall he go?’ she cries, ‘And leave our realm a wanderer’s mock? Quick, snatch your arms and chase the prize, And drag the vessels from the dock! Fetch flames, bring darts, ply oars!—yet why? What words are these, or where am I? Why rave I thus? Those impious deeds— Poor Dido! how your torn heart bleeds. Too late! it should have bled that day When at his feet your sceptre lay. Lo here, the chief of stainless word, Who takes his household gods on board, Whose shoulders safe from sword and fire Conveyed his venerable sire! Oh! had I rent him limb from limb And cast him o’er the waves to swim, His friends, his own Ascanius killed, And with the child the father filled! Yet danger in the strife had been:— Who prates of danger here? A death-devoted, desperate queen, What foe had I to fear? No, I had sown the flame broadcast, Had fired the fleet from keel to mast, Slain son and sire, stamped out the race, And thrown at length with steadfast face Myself upon the bier. If needs must be that wretch abhorred Attain the port and float to land, If such the fate of heaven’s high lord, And so the moveless pillars stand; Scourged by a savage enemy, An exile from his son’s embrace, So let him sue for aid, and see His people slain before his face; Nor when to humbling peace at length He stoops, be his or life or land, But let him fall in manhood’s strength And welter tombless on the sand. Such malison to heaven I pour, A last libation with my gore. And, Tyrians, you through time to come His seed with deathless hatred chase: Be that your gift to Dido’s tomb: No love, no league ’twixt race and race. Rise from my ashes, scourge of crime, Born to pursue the Dardan horde To-day, to-morrow, through all time, Oft as our hands can wield the sword: Fight shore with shore, fight sea with sea, Fight all that are or e’er shall be!’