To light, or binds it to the Stygian coast, Gives balmy slumber, breaks the sweet repose, Weighs down the lid of dying eyes that close. Thro' storms and dripping clouds with this he glides; Now o'er the summit and the hoary sides 310 Of Atlas hangs, pois'd on whose shoulders rest The Heav'ns: his head eternal storms infest, Crown'd with dark pines, inwrap'd with gloomy clouds; Primeval snow his shaggy bosom shrouds, Furrow'd with streams that down his chin descend, 315 And chains of ice from his broad beard that pend. Here light the God--Balanc'd his equal wings, And darting forward to the ocean flings. Through misty air as nearer earth he drew, Cutting the winds and whirling sands, he flew 320 Like birds, that hov'ring o'er the fishy main, Drop from the sky', and skim the watry plain. So from the height his mighty grandsire props, Down on the pinion light Cyllenius drops; And scarce his winged feet had touch'd the ground, 325 AEneas with the busy crew he found, Planning new structures for the rising town. Bright with a radiant gem his sword hung down, A mantle graceful o'er his shoulder thrown With sparkling gold and Tyrian purple shone. 330 'Twas Dido's present: thro' the blushing thread The docile gold her taper fingers led. The god accosts him.--"With uxorious care The walls of Carthage does AEneas rear, Himself forgotten and his future state? 335 But he that reigns--the pow'r who next to Fate, Roles Earth and Heav'n, and moves them with a nod, Thro' skies unclouded, he--the ruling God, This to your ear commands me to convey; Why on the Lybian shore this fond delay? 340 These rising tow'rs--If satisfied with these, You barter glory for ignoble ease, Your injur'd heir--your young Ascanius view, Rome and th' Italian reign to him are due." While thus the God convey'd what Jove resolv'd, 345 From human eyes in air his form dissolved. AEneas stood with sacred terror chill'd; His hair erect, his lips with horror seal'd; Aw'd by the present God, the high command, He burns to fly, and leave the much lov'd land. 350 But how alas!--What words, what soothing art? How meet the Queen, the sad design impart? Now here, now there, his wav'ring soul inclin'd; He bends on ev'ry side his anxious mind: And thus at length his doubting councils end. 355 He bids Cleanthus and the chiefs attend, The crews assemble and the ships prepare, In silence hid the object of their care; While Dido yet the faithless dream deludes, And not one doubt upon her bliss intrudes: 360 That he, mean while, the fittest time would seek, The fittest place the sad reverse to speak.