LV. Thus he, reproaching. Towards the town they fare In haste. But Venus round them on the way Wrapt a thick mist, a mantle of dark air, That none should see them, none should touch nor stay, Nor, urging idle questions, breed delay. Then back, rejoicing, through the liquid air To Paphos and her home she flies away, Where, steaming with Sabaean incense rare, An hundred altars breathe with garlands fresh and fair. LVI. They by the path their forward steps pursued, And climbed a hill, whose fronting summit frowned Steep o'er the town. Amazed, AEneas viewed Tall structures rise, where whilom huts were found, The streets, the gates, the bustle and the sound. Hotly the Tyrians are at work. These draw The bastions' lines, roll stones and trench the ground; Or build the citadel; those clothe with awe The Senate; there they choose the judges for the law. LVII. These delve the port; the broad foundations there They lay for theatres of ample space, And columns, hewn from marble rocks, prepare, Tall ornaments, the future stage to grace. As bees in early summer swarm apace Through flowery fields, when forth from dale and dell They lead the full-grown offspring of the race, Or with the liquid honey store each cell, And make the teeming hive with nectarous sweets to swell. LVIII. These ease the comers of their loads, those drive The drones afar. The busy work each plies, And sweet with thyme and honey smells the hive. "O happy ye, whose walls already rise!" Exclaimed AEneas, and with envious eyes Looked up where pinnacles and roof-tops showed The new-born city; then in wondrous wise, Clothed in the covering of the friendly cloud, Passed through the midst unseen, and mingled with the crowd. LIX. A grove stood in the city, rich in shade, Where storm-tost Tyrians, past the perilous brine, Dug from the ground, by royal Juno's aid, A war-steed's head, to far-off days a sign That wealth and prowess should adorn the line. Here, by the goddess and her gifts renowned, Sidonian Dido built a stately shrine. All brazen rose the threshold; brass was round The door-posts; brazen doors on grating hinges sound. LX. Here a new sight AEneas' hopes upraised, And fear was softened, and his heart was mann'd. For while, the queen awaiting, round he gazed, And marvelled at the happy town, and scanned The rival labours of each craftsman's hand, Behold, Troy's battles on the walls appear, The war, since noised through many a distant land, There Priam and th' Atridae twain, and here Achilles, fierce to both, still ruthless and severe.