Aeneid
Virgil
Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.
- Then Aeolus: “'T is thy sole task, O Queen,
- to weigh thy wish and will. My fealty
- thy high behest obeys. This humble throne
- is of thy gift. Thy smiles for me obtain
- authority from Jove. Thy grace concedes
- my station at your bright Olympian board,
- and gives me lordship of the darkening storm.”
- Replying thus, he smote with spear reversed
- the hollow mountain's wall; then rush the winds
- through that wide breach in long, embattled line,
- and sweep tumultuous from land to land:
- with brooding pinions o'er the waters spread,
- east wind and south, and boisterous Afric gale
- upturn the sea; vast billows shoreward roll;
- the shout of mariners, the creak of cordage,
- follow the shock; low-hanging clouds conceal
- from Trojan eyes all sight of heaven and day;
- night o'er the ocean broods; from sky to sky
- the thunders roll, the ceaseless lightnings glare;
- and all things mean swift death for mortal man.
- Straightway Aeneas, shuddering with amaze,
- groaned loud, upraised both holy hands to Heaven,
- and thus did plead: “O thrice and four times blest,
- ye whom your sires and whom the walls of Troy
- looked on in your last hour! O bravest son
- Greece ever bore, Tydides! O that I
- had fallen on Ilian fields, and given this life
- struck down by thy strong hand! where by the spear
- of great Achilles, fiery Hector fell,
- and huge Sarpedon; where the Simois
- in furious flood engulfed and whirled away
- so many helms and shields and heroes slain!”
- While thus he cried to Heaven, a shrieking blast
- smote full upon the sail. Up surged the waves
- to strike the very stars; in fragments flew
- the shattered oars; the helpless vessel veered
- and gave her broadside to the roaring flood,
- where watery mountains rose and burst and fell.
- Now high in air she hangs, then yawning gulfs
- lay bare the shoals and sands o'er which she drives.
- Three ships a whirling south wind snatched and flung
- on hidden rocks,—altars of sacrifice
- Italians call them, which lie far from shore
- a vast ridge in the sea; three ships beside
- an east wind, blowing landward from the deep,
- drove on the shallows,—pitiable sight,—
- and girdled them in walls of drifting sand.
- That ship, which, with his friend Orontes, bore
- the Lycian mariners, a great, plunging wave
- struck straight astern, before Aeneas' eyes.
- Forward the steersman rolled and o'er the side
- fell headlong, while three times the circling flood
- spun the light bark through swift engulfing seas.
- Look, how the lonely swimmers breast the wave!
- And on the waste of waters wide are seen
- weapons of war, spars, planks, and treasures rare,
- once Ilium's boast, all mingled with the storm.
- Now o'er Achates and Ilioneus,
- now o'er the ship of Abas or Aletes,
- bursts the tempestuous shock; their loosened seams
- yawn wide and yield the angry wave its will.