Unto Dione's daughter there, my mother, and the rest, I sacrificed upon a day to gain beginning blest, 20 And to the King of Heavenly folk was slaying on the shore A glorious bull: at hand by chance a mound at topmost bore A cornel-bush and myrtle stiff with shafts close set around: Thereto I wend and strive to pluck a green shoot from the ground, That I with leafy boughs thereof may clothe the altars well; When lo, a portent terrible and marvellous to tell! For the first stem that from the soil uprooted I tear out Oozes black drops of very blood, that all the earth about Is stained with gore: but as for me, with sudden horror chill My limbs fall quaking, and my blood with freezing fear stands still. 30 Yet I go on and strive from earth a new tough shoot to win, That I may search out suddenly what causes lurk within; And once again from out the bark blood followeth as before. I turn the matter in my mind: the Field-Nymphs I adore, And him, Gradivus, father dread, who rules the Thracian plain, And pray them turn the thing to good and make its threatenings vain. But when upon a third of them once more I set my hand, And striving hard thrust both my knees upon the opposing sand-- --Shall I speak now or hold my peace?--a piteous groan is heard From out the mound, and to mine ears is borne a dreadful word: 40 'Why manglest thou a wretched man? O spare me in my tomb! Spare to beguilt thy righteous hand, Æneas! Troy's own womb Bore me, thy kinsman; from this stem floweth no alien gore: Woe's me! flee forth the cruel land, flee forth the greedy shore; For I am Polydore: pierced through, by harvest of the spear O'ergrown, that such a crop of shafts above my head doth bear.'