XXXII. And Cornyaeus in a brazen urn Enshrined the bones, upgathered in a caul, And bearing round pure water, thrice in turn From olive branch the lustral dew lets fall, And, sprinkling, speaks the latest words of all. A lofty mound AEneas hastes to frame, Crowned with his oar and trumpet, 'neath a tall And airy cliff, which still Misenus' name Preserves, and ages keep his everlasting fame. XXXIII. This done, AEneas hastens to obey The Sibyl's hest.--There was a monstrous cave, Rough, shingly, yawning wide-mouthed to the day, Sheltered from access by the lake's dark wave And shadowing forests, gloomy as the grave. O'er that dread space no flying thing could ply Its wings unjeopardied (whence Grecians gave The name "Aornos"), such a stench on high Rose from the poisonous jaws, and filled the vaulted sky. XXXIV. Here four black oxen, as the maid divine Commands them, forth to sacrifice are led. Over their brows she pours the sacred wine, Then plucks the hairs that sprouted on the head And burns them, as the first-fruits to the dead, Calling aloud on Hecate, whose reign In Heaven and Erebus is owned with dread. These stab the victims in the throat, and drain In bowls the steaming blood that gushes from the slain. XXXV. A black-fleeced lamb AEneas slays, to please The Furies' mother and her sister dread, A barren cow to Proserpine decrees. Then to the Stygian monarch of the dead The midnight altars he began to spread. The bulls' whole bodies on the flames he laid, And fat oil on the broiling entrails shed, When lo! as Morn her opening beams displayed, Loud rumblings shook the ground, the wooded hill-tops swayed, XXXVI. And hell-dogs baying through the gloom, proclaimed The Goddess near. "Back, back, unhallowed crew, And quit the grove!" the prophetess exclaimed, "Thou, bare thy blade, and take the road in view. Now, Trojan, for a stalwart heart and true; Firmness and steadiness!" No more she cried, But back into the open cave withdrew, Fired with new frenzy. He, with fearless stride, Treads on the Sibyl's heels, rejoicing in his guide. XXXVII. O silent Shades, and ye, the powers of Hell, Chaos and Phlegethon, wide realms of night, What ear hath heard, permit the tongue to tell, High matter, veiled in darkness, to indite.-- On through the gloomy shade, in darkling plight, Through Pluto's solitary halls they stray, As travellers, whom the Moon's unkindly light Baffles in woods, when, on a lonely way, Jove shrouds the heavens, and night has turned the world to grey.