'Twas then that Dido, sinking with her fate, In all its horror view'd her wretched state. 560 The light of heav'n grew odious to her sight, She call'd on Death, and each religions rite With horrid omens urg'd the dark design: The milky juice flowed black upon the shrine; And dire to tell, the sacred wine she bore 565 Fell from the cup in fleaks of clotted gore. These horrid sighs, to her alone reveal'd, Ev'n from her sister's friendship she conceal'd. But more--a temple in the palace stood With snow-white fleeces hang, with garlands strew'd, 570 Where to her former husband's honor'd shade Assiduous worship, daily vows she paid: There, when the night, unroll'd her sable pall She hears his voice in doleful murmurs call, While from the roof the fated owl alone 575 In deep complaint prolongs the funeral tone. Beside, what ills had been foretold before, Now on her mind, a dread impression bore. Her aching eyes did broken slumbers close, AEneas like a vengeful fury rose: 580 Alone--forsaken--distant from her home, Driv'n o'er the desert--she appears to roam With sinking steps,--abandoned--left behind, Thro' burning sands her native Tyre to find. So mad Pentheus saw two suns arise, 585 Two Thebes appear before his haggard eyes. So wild Orestes flies his mother's rage, With snakes, with torches arm'd across the stage, To 'scape her vengeance whereso'er he goes, Pale furies meet him and his flight oppose.