By long religion kept; there bend your feet, And in divided parties let us meet. Our country gods, the reliques, and the bands, Hold you, my father, in your guiltless hands: In me 'tis impious holy things to bear, Red as I am with slaughter, new from war, Till in some living stream I cleanse the guilt Of dire debate, and blood in battle spilt." Thus ordering all that prudence could provide, I clothe my shoulders with a lion's hide, And yellow spoils; then, on my bending back, The welcome load of my dear father take; While on my better hand Ascanius hung, And with unequal paces tript along. Creüsa kept behind: by choice we stray Through every dark and every devious way. I, who so bold and dauntless, just before, The Grecian darts and shock of lances bore, At every shadow now am seized with fear, Not for myself, but for the charge I bear; Till, near the ruined gate arrived at last, Secure, and deeming all the danger past, A frightful noise of trampling feet we hear. My father, looking through the shades with fear, Cried out,--"Haste, haste, my son! the foes are nigh; Their swords and shining armour I descry." Some hostile god, for some unknown offence, Had sure bereft my mind of better sense; For, while through winding ways I took my flight, And sought the shelter of the gloomy night, Alas! I lost Creüsa: hard to tell If by her fatal destiny she fell, Or weary sate, or wandered with affright; But she was lost for ever to my sight. I knew not, or reflected, till I meet My friends, at Ceres' now deserted seat. We met: not one was wanting; only she Deceived her friends, her son, and wretched me. What mad expressions did my tongue refuse? Whom did I not, of gods or men, accuse? This was the fatal blow, that pained me more Than all I felt from ruined Troy before. Stung with my loss, and raving with despair, Abandoning my now forgotten care, Of counsel, comfort, and of hope, bereft, My sire, my son, my country gods, I left. In shining armour once again I sheath My limbs, not feeling wounds, nor fearing death. Then headlong to the burning walls I run, And seek the danger I was forced to shun. I tread my former tracks, through night explore, Each passage, every street I crossed before. All things were full of horror and affright, And dreadful even the silence of the night. Then to my father's house I make repair, With some small glimpse of hope to find her there. Instead of her, the cruel Greeks I met: The house was filled with foes, with flames beset. Driven on the wings of winds, whole sheets of fire, Through air transported, to the roofs aspire. From thence to Priam's palace I resort, And search the citadel, and desert court. Then, unobserved, I pass by Juno's church: A guard of Grecians had possessed the porch; There Phœnix and Ulysses watch the prey, And thither all the wealth of Troy convey--