3. Vergil, Aeneis, 1.450-1.452, 1.459-1.462, 1.488, 1.657, 1.725-1.730, 2.3-2.13, 4.2, 4.12-4.14, 4.66, 4.78-4.79, 4.86-4.89, 4.101, 4.193, 4.260-4.265
| 1.450. has crossed my path, thou maid without a name! 1.451. Thy beauty seems not of terrestrial mould 1.452. nor is thy music mortal! Tell me, goddess 1.459. compelled by wind and wave. Lo, this right hand 1.461. Then Venus: “Nay, I boast not to receive 1.462. honors divine. We Tyrian virgins oft 1.488. her grief and stricken love. But as she slept 1.657. in night's first watch burst o'er them unawares 1.725. had brought them hither; for a chosen few 1.726. from every ship had come to sue for grace 1.729. and leave to speak, revered Ilioneus 1.730. with soul serene these lowly words essayed: 2.3. Father Aeneas with these words began :— 2.4. A grief unspeakable thy gracious word 2.5. o sovereign lady, bids my heart live o'er: 2.6. how Asia 's glory and afflicted throne 2.7. the Greek flung down; which woeful scene I saw 2.8. and bore great part in each event I tell. 2.9. But O! in telling, what Dolopian churl 2.10. or Myrmidon, or gory follower 2.11. of grim Ulysses could the tears restrain? 2.12. 'T is evening; lo! the dews of night begin 2.13. to fall from heaven, and yonder sinking stars 4.2. of love; and out of every pulsing vein 4.12. of her dear sister spoke the stricken Queen: 4.13. “Anna, my sister, what disturbing dreams 4.14. perplex me and alarm? What guest is this 4.66. and what imperial city shall be thine 4.78. of shame begone. First to the shrines they went 4.79. and sued for grace; performing sacrifice 4.86. and poured it full between the lifted horns 4.87. of the white heifer; or on temple floors 4.88. he strode among the richly laden shrines 4.89. the eyes of gods upon her, worshipping 4.101. through Cretan forest rashly wandering 4.193. and fiercely champs the foam-flecked bridle-rein. 4.260. an equal number of vociferous tongues 4.261. foul, whispering lips, and ears, that catch at all. 4.262. At night she spreads midway 'twixt earth and heaven 4.263. her pinions in the darkness, hissing loud 4.264. nor e'er to happy slumber gives her eyes: 4.265. but with the morn she takes her watchful throne |
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