XXIII. Raised on a hundred columns, vast and tall, Above the city reared its reverend head A stately fabric, once the palace-hall Of Picus. Dark woods shrouded, and the dread Of ages filled, the precinct. Here, 'tis said, Kings took the sceptre and the axe of fate, Their senate house this temple; here were spread The tables for the sacred feast, where sate, What time the ram was slain, the elders of the State. XXIV. In ancient cedar o'er the doors appear The sculptured effigies of sires divine. Grey Saturn, Italus, Sabinus here, Curved hook in hand, the planter of the vine. There two-faced Janus, and, in ordered line, Old kings and patriot chieftains. Captive cars Hang round, and arms upon the doorposts shine, Curved axes, crests of helmets, towngates' bars, Spears, shields and beaks of ships, the trophies of their wars. XXV. There Picus sat, with his Quirinal wand, Tamer of steeds. The augur's gown he wore, Short, striped and belted; and his lifted hand The sacred buckler on the left upbore. Him Circe, his enamoured bride, of yore, Wild with desire, so ancient legends say, Smote with her golden rod, and sprinkling o'er His limbs her magic poisons, made a jay, And sent to roam the air, with dappled plumage gay. XXVI. Such is the temple, in whose sacred dome Latinus waits the Teucrians on his throne, And kindly thus accosts them as they come: 'Speak, Dardans,--for the Dardan name ye own; Nor strange your race and city, nor unknown Sail ye the plains of Ocean--tell me now, What seek ye? By the tempest tost, or blown At random, needful of what help and how Came ye to Latin shores the dark-blue deep to plough? XXVII. "But, whether wandering from your course, or cast By storms--such ills as oft-times on the main O'ertake poor mariners--your ships at last Our stream have entered, and the port attain. Shun not a welcome, nor our cheer disdain. For dear to Saturn, whom our sires adored, Was Latium. Manners, not the laws, constrain To justice. Freely, of our own accord, We mind the golden age, and virtues of our lord. XXVIII. "Now, I remember, old Auruncans told (Age dims, but memory can the tale retrace) How, born in Latium, Dardanus of old Went forth to northern Samos, styled of Thrace, And reached the towns at Phrygian Ida's base. From Tuscan Corythus in days gone by He went, and now among the stars hath place, Throned in the golden palace of the sky. On earth his altar marks one godhead more on high."