That, scarce distinguished, seem to stud the seas. The shouts of sailors double near the shores; They stretch their canvas, and they ply their oars. "All hands aloft! for Crete! for Crete!" they cry, And swiftly through the foamy billows fly. Full on the promised land at length we bore, With joy descending on the Cretan shore. With eager haste a rising town I frame, Which from the Trojan Pergamus I name: The name itself was grateful:--I exhort To found their houses, and erect a fort. Our ships are hauled upon the yellow strand; The youth begin to till the laboured land; And I myself new marriages promote, Give laws, and dwellings I divide by lot; When rising vapours choke the wholesome air, And blasts of noisome winds corrupt the year; The trees devouring caterpillars burn; Parched was the grass, and blighted was the corn: Nor 'scape the beasts; for Sirius, from on high, } With pestilential heat infects the sky: } My men--some fall, the rest in fevers fry. } Again my father bids me seek the shore Of sacred Delos, and the god implore, To learn what end of woes we might expect, And to what clime our weary course direct. 'Twas night, when every creature, void of cares, The common gift of balmy slumber shares; The statues of my gods, (for such they seemed,) Those gods whom I from flaming Troy redeemed, Before me stood, majestically bright, Full in the beams of Phœbe's entering light. Then thus they spoke, and eased my troubled mind: "What from the Delian god thou goest to find, He tells thee here, and sends us to relate. Those powers are we, companions of thy fate, Who from the burning town by thee were brought, Thy fortune followed, and thy safety wrought. Through seas and lands as we thy steps attend, So shall our care thy glorious race befriend. An ample realm for thee thy fates ordain, A town, that o'er the conquered world shall reign. Thou, mighty walls for mighty nations build; Nor let thy weary mind to labours yield: But change thy seat; for not the Delian god, Nor we, have given thee Crete for our abode. A land there is, Hesperia called of old, (The soil is fruitful, and the natives bold-- The Œnotrians held it once,) by later fame Now called Italia, from the leader's name. Iasius there and Dardanus were born; From thence we came, and thither must return. Rise, and thy sire with these glad tidings greet. Search Italy; for Jove denies thee Crete." Astonished at their voices and their sight, (Nor were they dreams, but visions of the night; I saw, I knew their faces, and descried, In perfect view, their hair with fillets tied,) I started from my couch; a clammy sweat On all my limbs and shivering body sate. To heaven I lift my hands with pious haste, And sacred incense in the flames I cast. Thus to the gods their perfect honours done,