Aeneid
Virgil
Vergil. The Aeneid of Virgil. Williams, Theodore, C, translator. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1910.
- While thus they talked, the crimsoned car of Morn
- Had wheeled beyond the midmost point of heaven,
- On her ethereal road. The princely pair
- Had wasted thus the whole brief gift of hours;
- But Sibyl spoke the warning: “Night speeds by,
- And we, Aeneas, lose it in lamenting.
- Here comes the place where cleaves our way in twain.
- Thy road, the right, toward Pluto's dwelling goes,
- And leads us to Elysium. But the left
- Speeds sinful souls to doom, and is their path
- To Tartarus th' accurst.”
- Cried out: “0 priestess, be not wroth with us!
- Back to the ranks with yonder ghosts I go.
- 0 glory of my race, pass on! Thy lot
- Be happier than mine!” He spoke, and fled.