THE FOURTH BOOK OF VIRGIL'S AENEID, TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE. While Dido, now with rising cares opprest, Indulg'd the pain; the flame within her breast In silence prey'd, and burn'd in every vein. Fix'd in her heart, his voice, his form remain; 5 Still would her thought the Hero's fame retrace, Her fancy feed upon his heav'nly race: Care to her wearied frame gives no repose, Her anxious night no balmy slumber knows; And scarce the morn, in purple beams array'd, 10 Chas'd from the humid pole the ling'ring shade, Her sister, fond companion of her thought, Thus in the anguish of her soul she sought. Dear Anna, tell me, why this broken rest? What mean these boding thoughts? who is this guest, 15 This lovely stranger that adorns our court? How great his mein! and what a godlike port! It must be true, no idle voice of Fame, From heav'n, I'm sure, such forms, such virtue came. } Degenerate spirits are by fear betray'd, 20 } His soul, alas, what fortunes have essay'd; } What feats of war!--and in what words convey'd! Were it not fix'd, determin'd in my mind, That me no more the nuptial tye shall bind, Since Death deceiv'd the first fond flame I knew: 25 Were Hymen's rites less odious to my view, To this one fault perhaps I might give way; For must I own it? Anna since the day Sicheus fell, (that day a brother's guilt, A brother's blood upon our altars spilt); 30 He, none but he, my feelings could awake, Or with one doubt my wav'ring bosom shake. Yes! these are symptoms of my former flame; But sooner thro' her very inmost frame, May gaping Earth my sinking feet betray; 35 Jove's light'ning blast me from this vital ray To Hell's pale shade, and Night's eternal reign, Ere, sacred Honor, I thy rite profane. Oh, no! to whom my virgin faith I gave, "Twas his, and his remains within the grave".