755 "If so the fates decree, if Jove command, That, he accurst, shall reach th' Italian land, There may he meet in arms, a warlike race, There helpless rove, torn from his son's embrace, His friends untimely end there let him feel; 760 For succour there to strangers meanly kneel; And when for peace, ingloriously he sues, His crown, his life, untimely may he lose, And lie unburied on the naked shore; 765 With the last breath of life this pray'r I pour. And you, my Tyrian friends--thro' times extent On that curst race eternal hatred vent. These gifts, these honors, let my ashes reap, No peace, no treaty with that people keep. 770 Rise, rise some vast avenger from my tomb, With fire with sword that Dardan breed consume. Now and as long as Fate the pow'r shall lend, May shore with shore--may wave with wave contend, So prays my soul--let arms with arms engage, And children's children war eternal wage. 775 So Dido pray'd, while her distracted thought To shun light's hated beams, impatient sought. To Barce then, her husband's nurse, she said, (Her own at Tyre, within the tomb was laid). Go, Barce, go my sister hither bring 780 With water sprinkled from the sacred spring; Bid her the victims lead, the rites prepare, And you yourself a sacred fillet wear: The rite began to Stygian Jove we'll end, My cares shall vanish as the flames ascend, 785 His image wasting as the pyre consumes"; She spoke--the step of age officious haste assumes. But now the ripen'd project chill'd her soul; Thro' starting blood her eyeballs burning roll; Her cheek convuls'd with spots of livid red, 790 All pale and ghastly, Death approaching spread. Strait to the court with darting stop she bends, With frantic haste the funeral pyle ascends, And from the scabbard draws the Dardan blade. (Sad gift, alas, for no such purpose made), 795 But when the bed, and Trojan vest she view'd; That well known bed--she paus'd--and pensive stood. Tears found their way--once more that bed she prest As these last words her parting breath exprest. "Dear pledges! yes!--while heaven allow'd it so? 800 Now take this soul---relieve me from this woe; I've liv'd, whatever fortune gave is o'er; No common shade I seek the dreary shore, My walls arise, I leave a glorious state; --Not unreveng'd I view'd my husband's fate; 805 Alas, too happy--had the envious gales, To Lybia's coast, ne'er bent the Phrygian sails". She ceas'd--and kiss'd again the fatal bed: "--And must I die--and none avenge me dead? Yes, yes! I die, since fate will have it so, Thus, even thus, well pleas'd beneath the shades I go; 810 These rising flames his cruel eye shall meet, A dreadful omen to attend his fleet"!