II. To Diomed posts Venulus, to crave His aid, and tell how Teucrians hold the land; AEneas with his gods hath crossed the wave, And claims the throne his vaunted Fates demand. How many a tribe hath joined the Dardan's band, How spreads his fame through Latium. What the foe May purpose next, what conquest he hath planned, Should friendly fortune speed the coming blow, Better than Latium's king AEtolia's lord must know. III. So Latium fares. AEneas, tost with tides Of thought, for well he marked the growing fight, This way and that his eager mind divides, Reflects, revolves and ponders on his plight. As waters in a brazen urn flash bright, Smit by the sunbeam or the moon's pale rays, And round the chamber flits the trembling light, And darts aloft, and on the ceiling plays, So many a varying mood his anxious mind displays. IV. 'Twas night; the tired world rested. Far and nigh All slept, the cattle and the fowls of air. Stretched on a bank, beneath the cold, clear sky, Lay good AEneas, fain at length to share Late slumber, troubled by the war with care. When, 'twixt the poplars, where the fair stream flows, With azure mantle, and with sedge-crowned hair, The aged Genius of the place uprose, And, standing by, thus spake, and comforted his woes: V. "Blest seed of Heaven! who from the foemen's hand Our Troy dost bring, and to an endless date Preservest Pergama; whom Latium's land Hath looked for, and Laurentum's fields await, Here, doubt not, are thy homegods, here hath Fate Thy home decreed. Let not war's terrors seem To daunt thee. Heaven is weary of its hate; Its storms are spent. Distrust not, nor esteem These words of idle worth, the coinage of a dream. VI. "Hard by, beneath yon oak-trees, thou shalt see A huge, white swine, and, clustering around Her teats, are thirty young ones, white as she. There shall thy labour with repose be crown'd, Thy city set. There Alba's walls renowned, When twice ten times hath rolled the circling year, Called Alba Longa, shall Ascanius found. Sure stands the word; and now attend and hear, How best through present straits a prosperous course to steer. VII. "Arcadians here, a race of old renown, From Pallas sprung, with king Evander came, And on the hill-side built a chosen town, Called Pallanteum, from their founder's name. Year after year they ply the war's rude game With Latins. Go, and win them to thy side, Bid them as fellows to thy camp, and frame A league. Myself along the banks will guide, And teach thy labouring oars to mount the opposing tide.