One cave a grateful shelter shall afford To the fair princess and the Trojan lord. I will myself the bridal bed prepare, If you, to bless the nuptials, will be there: So shall their loves be crowned with due delights, And Hymen shall be present at the rites." The queen of love consents, and closely smiles At her vain project, and discovered wiles. The rosy morn was risen from the main, And horns and hounds awake the princely train: They issue early through the city gate, Where the more wakeful huntsmen ready wait, With nets, and toils, and darts, beside the force Of Spartan dogs, and swift Massylian horse. The Tyrian peers and officers of state, For the slow queen, in antechambers wait; Her lofty courser, in the court below, Who his majestic rider seems to know, Proud of his purple trappings, paws the ground, And champs the golden bit, and spreads the foam around. The queen at length appears: on either hand, The brawny guards in martial order stand. A flowered cymar with golden fringe she wore, And at her back a golden quiver bore; Her flowing hair a golden caul restrains, A golden clasp the Tyrian robe sustains. Then young Ascanius, with a sprightly grace, Leads on the Trojan youth to view the chase. But far above the rest in beauty shines The great Æneas, when the troop he joins; Like fair Apollo, when he leaves the frost Of wintery Xanthus, and the Lycian coast, When to his native Delos he resorts, Ordains the dances, and renews the sports; Where painted Scythians, mixed with Cretan bands, Before the joyful altars join their hands: Himself, on Cynthus walking, sees below The merry madness of the sacred show. Green wreaths of bays his length of hair inclose; A golden fillet binds his awful brows; His quiver sounds.--Not less the prince is seen In manly presence, or in lofty mien. Now had they reached the hills, and stormed the seat Of savage beasts, in dens, their last retreat. The cry pursues the mountain-goats: they bound From rock to rock, and keep the craggy ground: Quite otherwise the stags, a trembling train, } In herds unsingled, scour the dusty plain, } And a long chase, in open view, maintain. } The glad Ascanius, as his courser guides, Spurs through the vale, and these and those outrides. His horses flanks and sides are forced to feel The clanking lash, and goring of the steel. Impatiently he views the feeble prey, Wishing some nobler beast to cross his way, And rather would the tusky boar attend, Or see the tawny lion downward bend. Meantime, the gathering clouds obscure the skies: From pole to pole the forky lightning flies; The rattling thunders roll; and Juno pours A wintry deluge down, and sounding showers. The company, dispersed, to coverts ride, And seek the homely cots, or mountain's hollow side. The rapid rains, descending from the hills,