Of the marvels deep hid in the bowels of earth, In the dark caves of Ocean confined, Where the rivers in snow-trickling rills have their birth, And the dense tangled mazes unwind; In the deep underland, In the dim wonderland, Where broods the vast cosmical mind. Of the manifold wonders of life I sing, Its mysterious striving to scan, In the rippling wave, on the fluttering wing, In beast and all-dominant man. 'Tis the indwelling soul Of the god of the whole, Since the dawn of creation began. Meanwhile the queen, deeply moved with pity first, and now with admiration for her heroic guest, hangs breathless on his words, asks eagerly of the famous war, and at last begs him to tell entire the story of that last sad night of Troy. We listen too while he, whose tears start as he speaks, relates that tragic story. He tells how, at the end of the long struggle, when both warring nations were well-nigh exhausted of their strength, the Greeks at last gained entrance to their Trojan city by the trick of the wooden horse. This huge image, found without their walls, filled all unknown to them with their bravest foes, they draw through their gates, and place upon their very citadel, amid dancing children and the joyous shouts of all the citizens; for they have been assured by the lying Sinon that the Greeks have gone home, and have left this horse as an offering to Minerva for their safe return. In the deep night watches, when all are drowned in careless slumber and their festal draughts of wine, Æneas dreams that Hector stands before him, begrimed with gory dust and weeping bitterly. "Ah! fly, goddess-born!" cries he, "and escape from these flames--the walls are in the enemy's hands--Troy is tumbling from its summit--the claims of country and king are satisfied--if Pergamus could be defended by force of hand, it would have been defended by mine, in my day. Your country's worship and her gods are what she intrusts to you now--take them to share your destiny--seek for them a mighty city, which you shall one day build when you have wandered the ocean over." Conington. As Æneas springs up from his couch, warned by this vision, his ears are greeted by the confused sound of distant clamor, hoarse cries, and the accustomed noise of battle. The sky is red with flames. Rushing out, he finds that the Greek forces from wooden horse and fleet have filled the city, while the Trojans, taken unawares, are making brave but desultory resistance. Collecting a band of men, he makes stubborn stand again and again; but at last overpowered, his men flee in scattered twos and threes.