Again, and slumber takes the drowsy limbs. Bending above him, leaning over, the god Shoves him, still clinging to the tiller, calling His comrades vainly, into the clear waves. And the god is gone like a bird to the clear air, And the fleet is going safely over its journey As Neptune promised. But the rocks were near, The Siren-cliffs, most perilous of old, White with the bones of many mariners, Loud with their hoarse eternal warning sound. Aeneas starts from sleep, aware, somehow, Of a lost pilot, and a vessel drifting, Himself takes over guidance, with a sigh And heartache for a friend’s mishap, “Alas, Too trustful in the calm of sea and sky, O Palinurus, on an unknown shore, You will be lying, naked.” BOOK VI THE LOWER WORLD Mourning for Palinurus, he drives the fleet To Cumae’s coast-line; the prows are turned, the anchors Let down, the beach is covered by the vessels. Young in their eagerness for the land in the west, They flash ashore; some seek the seeds of flame Hidden in veins of flint, and others spoil The woods of tinder, and show where water runs. Aeneas, in devotion, seeks the heights Where stands Apollo’s temple, and the cave Where the dread Sibyl dwells, Apollo’s priestess, With the great mind and heart, inspired revealer Of things to come. They enter Diana’s grove, Pass underneath the roof of gold. The story Has it that Daedalus fled from Minos’ kingdom, Trusting himself to wings he made, and travelled A course unknown to man, to the cold north, Descending on this very summit; here, Earth-bound again, he built a mighty temple, Paying Apollo homage, the dedication Of the oarage of his wings. On the temple doors He carved, in bronze, Androgeos’ death, and the payment Enforced on Cecrops’ children, seven sons For sacrifice each year: there stands the urn, The lots are drawn--facing this, over the sea, Rises the land of Crete: the scene portrays Pasiphae in cruel love, the bull She took to her by cunning, and their offspring, The mongrel Minotaur, half man, half monster, The proof of lust unspeakable; and the toil Of the house is shown, the labyrinthine maze Which no one could have solved, but Daedalus Pitied a princess’ love, loosened the tangle, Gave her a skein to guide her way. His boy, Icarus, might have been here, in the picture, And almost was--his father had made the effort Once, and once more, and dropped his hands; he could not Master his grief that much. The story held them; They would have studied it longer, but Achates Came from his mission; with him came the priestess, Deiphobe, daughter of Glaucus, who tends the temple For Phoebus and Diana; she warned Aeneas: “It is no such sights the time demands; far better