Deep in a valley of green, father Anchises Was watching, with deep earnestness, the spirits Whose destiny was light, and counting them over, All of his race to come, his dear descendants, Their fates and fortunes and their works and ways, And as he saw Aeneas coming toward him Over the meadow, his hands reached out with yearning, He was moved to tears, and called:--“At last, my son,-- Have you really come, at last? and the long road nothing To a son who loves his father? Do I, truly, See you, and hear your voice? I was thinking so, I was hoping so, I was counting off the days, And I was right about it. O my son! What a long journey, over land and water, Yours must have been! What buffeting of danger! I feared, so much, the Libyan realm would hurt you.” And his son answered:--“It was your spirit, father, Your sorrowful shade, so often met, that led me To find these portals. The ships ride safe at anchor, Safe in the Tuscan sea. Embrace me, father; Let hand join hand in love; do not forsake me.” And as he spoke, the tears streamed down. Three times He reached out toward him, and three times the image Fled like the breath of the wind or a dream on wings. He saw, in a far valley, a separate grove Where the woods stir and rustle, and a river, The Lethe, gliding past the peaceful places, And tribes of people thronging, hovering over, Innumerable as the bees in summer Working the bright-hued flowers, and the shining Of the white lilies, murmuring and humming. Aeneas, filled with wonder, asks the reason For what he does not know, who are the people In such a host, and to what river coming? Anchises answers:--“These are spirits, ready Once more for life; they drink of Lethe’s water The soothing potion of forgetfulness. I have longed, for long, to show them to you, name them, Our children’s children; Italy discovered, So much the greater happiness, my son.” “But, O my father, is it thinkable That souls would leave this blessedness, be willing A second time to bear the sluggish body, Trade Paradise for earth? Alas, poor wretches, Why such a mad desire for light?” Anchises Gives detailed answer: “First, my son, a spirit Sustains all matter, heaven and earth and ocean, The moon, the stars; mind quickens mass, and moves it. Hence comes the race of man, of beast, of wingèd Creatures of air, of the strange shapes which ocean Bears down below his mottled marble surface. All these are blessed with energy from heaven; The seed of life is a spark of fire, but the body A clod of earth, a clog, a mortal burden. Hence humans fear, desire, grieve, and are joyful, And even when life is over, all the evil Ingrained so long, the adulterated mixture, The plagues and pestilences of the body Remain, persist.