Where dwelleth Anchises? what home hath he? for 'tis in his quest 670 We hither have made journey across Hell's watery marches.' Thertó with brief parley rejoin'd that mystic of old-time. 'In no certain abode we-remain: by turn the forest glade Haunt-we, lilied stream-bank, sunny mead; and o'er valley and rock At will rove-we: but if ye aright your purpose arede me, Mount-ye the hill: myself will prove how easy the pathway.' Speaking he léd: and come to the upland, sheweth a fair plain Gleaming aneath; and they, with grateful adieu, the descent made. Now Lord Anchises was down i' the green valley musing, Where the spirits confin'd that await mortal resurrection 680 While diligently he-mark'd, his thought had turn'd to his own kin, Whose numbers he-reckon'd, an' of all their progeny foretold Their fate and fortune, their ripen'd temper an' action. He then, when he' espied Æneas t'ward him approaching O'er the meadow, both hands uprais'd and ran to receive him, Tears in his eyes, while thus his voice in high passion outbrake. 'Ah, thou'rt come, thou'rt come! at length thy dearly belov'd grace Conquering all hath won-thee the way. 'Tis allow'd to behold thee, O my son,--yea again the familyar raptur' of our speech. Nay, I look't for 't thus, counting patiently the moments, 690 And ever expected; nor did fond fancy betray me. From what lands, my son, from what life-dangering ocean Art-thou arrived? full mighty perils thy path hav' opposèd: And how nearly the dark Libyan thy destiny o'erthrew!' Then 'he, 'Thy spirit, O my sire, 'twas thy spirit often Sadly appearing aroused-me to seek thy fair habitation. My fleet moors i' the blue Tyrrhene: all with-me goeth well. Grant-me to touch thy hand as of old, and thy body embrace.' Speaking, awhile in tears his feeling mutinied, and when For the longing contact of mortal affection, he out-held 700 His strong arms, the figure sustain'd them not: 'twas as empty E'en as a windworn cloud, or a phantom of irrelevant sleep. On the level bosom of this vale more thickly the tall trees Grow, an' aneath quivering poplars and whispering alders Lethe's dreamy river throu' peaceful scenery windeth. Whereby now flitted in vast swarms many people of all lands, As when in early summer 'honey-bees on a flowery pasture Pill the blossoms, hurrying to' an' fro,--innumerous are they, Revisiting the ravish'd lily cups, while all the meadow hums. Æneas was turn'd to the sight, and marvelling inquired, 710 'Say, sir, what the river that there i' the vale-bottom I see? And who they that thickly along its bank have assembled?' Then Lord Anchises, 'The spirits for whom a second life And body are destined ar' arriving thirsty to Lethe, And here drink th' unmindful draught from wells of oblivyon.