Precious with studded work, and paws of gold. Fame through the little city spreads aloud The intended march: amid the fearful crowd, The matrons beat their breasts, dissolve in tears, And double their devotion in their fears. The war at hand appears with more affright, And rises every moment to the sight. Then old Evander, with a close embrace, Strained his departing friend; and tears o'erflow his face. "Would heaven (said he) my strength and youth recal, Such as I was beneath Præneste's wall-- Then when I made the foremost foes retire, And set whole heaps of conquered shields on fire; When Herilus in single fight I slew, Whom with three lives Feronia did endue; And thrice I sent him to the Stygian shore, Till the last ebbing soul returned no more-- Such if I stood renewed, not these alarms, Nor death, should rend me from my Pallas' arms; Nor proud Mezentius thus, unpunished, boast His rapes and murders on the Tuscan coast. Ye gods! and mighty Jove! in pity bring Relief, and hear a father and a king! If fate and you reserve these eyes, to see My son returned with peace and victory; If the loved boy shall bless his father's sight; If we shall meet again with more delight; Then draw my life in length; let me sustain, In hopes of his embrace, the worst of pain. But, if your hard decrees--which, O! I dread-- Have doomed to death his undeserving head; This, O! this very moment let me die, While hopes and fears in equal balance lie; While, yet possessed of all his youthful charms, I strain him close within these aged arms-- Before that fatal news my soul shall wound!" He said, and, swooning, sunk upon the ground. His servants bore him off, and softly laid His languished limbs upon his homely bed. The horsemen march; the gates are opened wide; Æneas at their head, Achates by his side. Next these, the Trojan leaders rode along; Last, follows in the rear the Arcadian throng. Young Pallas shone conspicuous o'er the rest; Gilded his arms, embroidered was his vest. So, from the seas, exerts his radiant head The star, by whom the lights of heaven are led; Shakes from his rosy locks the pearly dews, Dispels the darkness, and the day renews. The trembling wives the walls and turrets crowd, And follow, with their eyes, the dusty cloud, Which winds disperse by fits, and shew from far The blaze of arms, and shields, and shining war. The troops, drawn up in beautiful array, O'er heathy plains pursue the ready way. Repeated peals of shouts are heard around; } The neighing coursers answer to the sound, } And shake with horny hoofs the solid ground. } A greenwood shade, for long religion known, Stands by the streams that wash the Tuscan town, Incompassed round with gloomy hills above,