Fate has decreed; the Destinies obey Eternal laws, and bid their spindles play: “March, Ages, without break!” Time presses on! You, of race Divine, Jove’s adopted Son, High honours, great tasks await; Swerve not at the call of Fate! The arched world bows; the sea’s long currents raise Glad crests; Heaven’s blue depths chant hymns of praise For the good days coming. With one consent The Universe prepares for merriment. Winter was it? Now, ’tis Spring; Hark! the woods are carolling! “May it be given me to outstay death— If I but keep so much of life as breath To tell, my Prince, your deeds! My theme, not I, Will Orpheus and Linus in song defy, Though Muse-Mother, and God-Sire Stand by, and their sons inspire. Nay, I range in Arcady; and should Pan Grace by a challenge on the pipe a man, I must take up the glove—the meanest clod, On equal terms competing with a God— And win! for I you acclaim; Then, what can he but the same?” A smile! and, Babe, I would that I could deem You meant it for pleasure at my Day-dream. I know ’tis a return for those on you; And that you can ne’er repay debts thus due. Blest you so to have learned, while In your cradle, how to smile! Alas for the child who, by guilt, or guile, Lives disinherited of parents’ smile. For whom no fellowship of Gods or grace, From birth condemned, an outcast of his race! In your Palace, at your call Shall not welcome be for all? Æneas in Hades P. VIRGILII MARONIS, Æneidos, Bk. V. vv. 721-754 and 835-871; Bk. VI. vv. 1-19 and 41-636 LIMBO AND TARTARUS