Famed as his sire, and, as his mother, fair; Whom in Egerian groves Aricia bore, And nursed his youth along the marshy shore, Where great Diana's peaceful altars flame, In fruitful fields; and Virbius was his name. Hippolytus, as old records have said, Was by his stepdame sought to share her bed: But, when no female arts his mind could move, She turned to furious hate her impious love. Torn by wild horses on the sandy shore, } Another's crimes the unhappy hunter bore, } Glutting his father's eyes with guiltless gore. } But chaste Diana, who his death deplored, With Æsculapian herbs his life restored: When Jove, who saw from high, with just disdain, The dead inspired with vital breath again, Struck to the centre, with his flaming dart, The unhappy founder of the godlike art. But Trivia kept in secret shades alone, Her care, Hippolytus, to fate unknown; And called him Virbius in the Egerian grove, Where then he lived obscure, but safe from Jove. For this, from Trivia's temple and her wood, } Are coursers driven, who shed their master's blood, } Affrighted by the monsters of the flood. } His son, the second Virbius, yet retained His father's art; and warrior steeds he reined. Amid the troops, and like the leading god, High o'er the rest in arms, the graceful Turnus rode: A triple pile of plumes his crest adorned, On which with belching flames Chimæra burned: The more the kindled combat rises higher, The more with fury burns the blazing fire. Fair Iö graced his shield; but Iö now With horns exalted stands, and seems to low-- A noble charge! Her keeper by her side, To watch her walks, his hundred eyes applied; And on the brims her sire, the watery god, Rolled from his silver urn his crystal flood. A cloud of foot succeeds, and fills the fields With swords, and pointed spears, and clattering shields; Of Argive, and of old Sicanian bands, And those who plough the rich Rutulian lands; Auruncan youth, and those Sacrana yields, And the proud Labicans, with painted shields, And those who near Numician streams reside, } And those whom Tyber's holy forests hide, } Or Circe's hills from the main land divide; } Where Ufens glides along the lowly lands, Or the black water of Pomptina stands. Last from the Volscians fair Camilla came, And led her warlike troops, a warrior dame: Unbred to spinning, in the loom unskilled, She chose the nobler Pallas of the field. Mixed with the first, the fierce virago fought, Sustained the toils of arms, the danger sought, Outstripped the winds in speed upon the plain, Flew o'er the field, nor hurt the bearded grain: She swept the seas, and, as she skimmed along, Her flying feet unbathed on billows hung. Men, boys, and women, stupid with surprise,