Arms and the man I sing, who first, By fate of Ilium realm amerced, To fair Italia onward bore, And landed on Lavinium’s shore:―― Long tossing earth and ocean o’er, By violence of heaven, to sate Fell Juno’s unforgetting hate: Much laboured too in battle-field, Striving his city’s walls to build, And give his Gods a home: Thence come the hardy Latin brood, The ancient sires of Alba’s blood, And lofty-rampired Rome. Say, Muse, for godhead how disdained, Or wherefore worth, Heaven’s queen constrained That soul of piety so long To turn the wheel, to cope with wrong. Can heavenly natures nourish hate So fierce, so blindly passionate? CONINGTON. Arma virumque cano, Trojæ qui primus ab oris Italiam, fato profugus, Lavinaque venit Litora, multum ille et terris jactatus et alto Vi superûm, sævæ memorem Junonis ob iram, Multa quoque et bello passus, dum conderet urbem Inferretque deos Latio: genus unde Latinum, Albanique patres atque altæ mœnia Romæ. Musa, mihi causas memora, quo numine læso, Quidve dolens, regina deûm tot volvere casus Insignem pietate virum, tot adire labores Impulerit. Tantæne animis cœlestibus iræ? It can be observed that Vergil, although he places himself foremost and although he says, _I sing_, begins nevertheless in a manner much less animated, much less sure than the Greek poet, who, transported beyond himself, seems to impose upon his Muse the subject of his songs, interrogates her, and then inspired by her, responds. The Latin poet finishes, like his model, with a sentence; but it is easy to feel that this apostrophe, Can heavenly natures nourish hate So fierce, so blindly passionate? although very beautiful, contains less depth, less feeling, and holds less intimately to the subject than this sublime reflection: ... and the men were perishing! Someone has said that Vergil had imitated in his exposition the commencement of the _Odyssey_ of Homer; this is a mistake. One finds always in the exposition of the _Odyssey_ the real character of a first inspiration blended with the invocation, although more calm and less alluring than in the _Iliad_. Here is the translation: Du plus sage Héros, Muse, dis les traverses Sans nombre, après qu’il eut triomphé d’Ilion: Rapelle les cités, les peuples, les usages, Qu’il connut, et les mers où longtemps il erra: À quels soins dévorants, à quels maux l’exposèrent L’amour de la patrie et noble désir D’y mener ses guerriers! Vain désir: ils osèrent, Insensés! du Soleil dévorer les troupeaux; Et ce Dieu, du retour leur ravit la journée. Fais-nous part de ces faits, fille de Jupiter.