On whom of men, on whom of Gods, then laid I not the guilt? What saw I bitterer to be borne in all the city spilt? Ascanius and Anchises set the Teucrian Gods beside, I give unto my fellows there in hollow dale to hide, But I unto the city turn with glittering weapons girt; Needs must I search all Troy again, and open every hurt, 750 And into every peril past must thrust my head once more. And first I reach the walls again and mirk ways of the door Whereby I wended out erewhile; and my old footsteps' track I find, and mid the dusk of night with close eyes follow back; While on the heart lies weight of fear, and e'en the hush brings dread, Thence to the house, if there perchance, if there again she tread, I go: infall of Greeks had been, and all the house they hold, And 'neath the wind the ravening fire to highest ridge is rolled. The flames hang o'er, with raging heat the heavens are hot withal; Still on: I look on Priam's house and topmost castle-wall; 760 And in the desert cloisters there and Juno's very home Lo, Phoenix and Ulysses cursed, the chosen wards, are come To keep the spoil; fair things of Troy, from everywhither brought, Rapt from the burning of the shrines, Gods' tables rudely caught, And beakers utterly of gold and raiment snatched away Are there heaped up; and boys and wives drawn out in long array Stand trembling round about the heap. And now withal I dared to cast my cries upon the dark, I fill the streets with clamour great, and, groaning woefully, 'Creusa,' o'er and o'er again without avail I cry. 770 But as I sought and endlessly raved all the houses through A hapless shape, Creusa's shade, anigh mine eyen drew, And greater than the body known her image fashioned was; I stood amazed, my hair rose up, nor from my jaws would pass My frozen voice, then thus she spake my care to take away: 'Sweet husband, wherefore needest thou with such mad sorrow play? Without the dealing of the Gods doth none of this betide; And they, they will not have thee bear Creusa by thy side, Nor will Olympus' highest king such fellowship allow. Long exile is in store for thee, huge plain of sea to plough, 780 Then to Hesperia shalt thou come, where Lydian Tiber's wave The wealthiest meads of mighty men with gentle stream doth lave: There happy days and lordship great, and kingly wife, are born For thee. Ah! do away thy tears for loved Creusa lorn. I shall not see the Myrmidons' nor Dolopes' proud place, Nor wend my ways to wait upon the Greekish women's grace; I, daughter of the Dardan race, I, wife of Venus' son; Me the great Mother of the Gods on Trojan shore hath won. Farewell, and love the son we loved together once, we twain.'