For this the Phrygian fields and Xanthian flood Were swelled with bodies, and were drunk with blood? 'Tis true, a soldier can small honour gain, And boast no conquest, from a woman slain: Yet shall the fact not pass without applause, Of vengeance taken in so just a cause. The punished crime shall set my soul at ease, And murmuring manes of my friends appease." Thus while I rave, a gleam of pleasing light } Spread o'er the place; and, shining heavenly bright, } My mother stood revealed before my sight-- } Never so radiant did her eyes appear; Not her own star confessed a light so clear-- Great in her charms, as when on gods above She looks, and breathes herself into their love. She held my hand, the destined blow to break; Then from her rosy lips began to speak:-- "My son! from whence this madness, this neglect Of my commands, and those whom I protect? Why this unmanly rage? Recall to mind Whom you forsake, what pledges leave behind. Look if your helpless father yet survive, Or if Ascanius or Creüsa live. Around your house the greedy Grecians err; } And these had perished in the nightly war, } But for my presence and protecting care. } Not Helen's face, nor Paris, was in fault; But by the gods was this destruction brought. Now cast your eyes around, while I dissolve The mists and films that mortal eyes involve, Purge from your sight the dross, and make you see The shape of each avenging deity. Enlightened thus, my just commands fulfil, Nor fear obedience to your mother's will. Where yon disordered heap of ruin lies, Stones rent from stones,--where clouds of dust arise,-- Amid that smother, Neptune holds his place, } Below the wall's foundation drives his mace, } And heaves the building from the solid base. } Look, where, in arms, imperial Juno stands } Full in the Scæan gate, with loud commands, } Urging on shore the tardy Grecian bands. } See! Pallas, of her snaky buckler proud, Bestrides the tower, refulgent through the cloud: See! Jove new courage to the foe supplies, And arms against the town the partial deities. Haste hence, my son! this fruitless labour end: } Haste, where your trembling spouse and sire attend: } Haste! and a mother's care your passage shall befriend." } She said, and swiftly vanished from my sight, Obscure in clouds, and gloomy shades of night. I looked, I listened; dreadful sounds I hear; And the dire forms of hostile gods appear. Troy sunk in flames I saw, (nor could prevent,) And Ilium from its old foundations rent-- Rent like a mountain-ash, which dared the winds, And stood the sturdy strokes of labouring hinds. About the roots the cruel axe resounds; The stumps are pierced with oft-repeated wounds: