Volume 8 — 1822

These vales were saddened with no common gloom When good Jemima perished in her bloom; When, such the awful will of heaven, she died By flames breathed on her from her own fireside. On earth we dimly see, and but in part 5 We know, yet faith sustains the sorrowing heart; And she, the pure, the patient and the meek, Might have fit epitaph could feelings speak; If words could tell and monuments record, How Treasures lost are inwardly deplored, 10 No name by grief’s fond eloquence adorned More than Jemima’s would be praised and mourned. The tender virtues of her blameless life, Bright in the daughter, brighter in the wife, And in the cheerful mother brightest shone,— 15 That light hath past away—the will of God[394] be done.

But Cytherea, studious to invent Arts yet untried, upon new counsels bent, Resolves that Cupid, chang’d in form and face To young Ascanius, should assume his place; Present the maddening gifts, and kindle heat 5 Of passion at the bosom’s inmost seat. She dreads the treacherous house, the double tongue; She burns, she frets—by Juno’s rancour stung; The calm of night is powerless to remove These cares, and thus she speaks to wingèd Love: 10 “O son, my strength, my power! who dost despise (What, save thyself, none dares through earth and skies) The giant-quelling bolts of Jove, I flee, O son, a suppliant to thy deity! What perils meet Æneas in his course, 15 How Juno’s hate with unrelenting force Pursues thy brother—this to thee is known; And oft-times hast thou made my griefs thine own. Him now the generous Dido by soft chains Of bland entreaty at her court detains; 20 Junonian hospitalities prepare Such apt occasion that I dread a snare. Hence, ere some hostile God can intervene, Would I, by previous wiles, inflame the queen With passion for Æneas, such strong love 25 That at my beck, mine only, she shall move. Hear, and assist;—the father’s mandate calls His young Ascanius to the Tyrian walls; He comes, my dear delight,—and costliest things Preserv’d from fire and flood for presents brings. 30 Him will I take, and in close covert keep, ’Mid groves Idalian, lull’d to gentle sleep, Or on Cythera’s far-sequestered steep, That he may neither know what hope is mine, Nor by his presence traverse the design. 35 Do thou, but for a single night’s brief space, Dissemble; be that boy in form and face! And when enraptured Dido shall receive Thee to her arms, and kisses interweave With many a fond embrace, while joy runs high, 40 And goblets crown the proud festivity, Instil thy subtle poison, and inspire, At every touch, an unsuspected fire.” Love, at the word, before his mother’s sight Puts off his wings, and walks, with proud delight, 45 Like young Iulus; but the gentlest dews Of slumber Venus sheds, to circumfuse The true Ascanius steep’d in placid rest; Then wafts him, cherish’d on her careful breast, Through upper air to an Idalian glade, 50 Where he on soft amaracas is laid, With breathing flowers embraced, and fragrant shade. But Cupid, following cheerily his guide Achates, with the gifts to Carthage hied; And, as the hall he entered, there, between 55 The sharers of her golden couch, was seen Reclin’d in festal pomp the Tyrian queen. The Trojans, too (Æneas at their head), On couches lie, with purple overspread: Meantime in canisters is heap’d the bread, 60 Pellucid water for the hands is borne, And napkins of smooth texture, finely shorn. Within are fifty handmaids, who prepare, As they in order stand, the dainty fare; And fume the household deities with store 65 Of odorous incense; while a hundred more Match’d with an equal number of like age, But each of manly sex, a docile page, Marshal the banquet, giving with due grace To cup or viand its appointed place. 70 The Tyrians rushing in, an eager band, Their painted couches seek, obedient to command. They look with wonder on the gifts—they gaze Upon Iulus, dazzled with the rays That from his ardent countenance are flung, 75 And charm’d to hear his simulating tongue; Nor pass unprais’d the robe and veil divine, Round which the yellow flowers and wandering foliage twine. But chiefly Dido, to the coming ill Devoted, strives in vain her vast desires to fill; 80 She views the gifts; upon the child then turns Insatiable looks, and gazing burns. To ease a father’s cheated love he hung Upon Æneas, and around him clung; Then seeks the queen; with her his arts he tries; 85 She fastens on the boy enamour’d eyes, Clasps in her arms, nor weens (O lot unblest!) How great a God, incumbent o’er her breast, Would fill it with his spirit. He, to please His Acidalian mother, by degrees 90 Blots out Sichaeus, studious to remove The dead, by influx of a living love, By stealthy entrance of a perilous guest. Troubling a heart that had been long at rest. Now when the viands were withdrawn, and ceas’d 95 The first division of the splendid feast, While round a vacant board the chiefs recline, Huge goblets are brought forth; they crown the wine; Voices of gladness roll the walls around; Those gladsome voices from the courts rebound; 100 From gilded rafters many a blazing light Depends, and torches overcome the night. The minutes fly—till, at the queen’s command, A bowl of state is offered to her hand: Then she, as Belus wont, and all the line 105 From Belus, filled it to the brim with wine; Silence ensued. “O Jupiter, whose care Is hospitable dealing, grant my prayer! Productive day be this of lasting joy To Tyrians, and these exiles driven from Troy; 110 A day to future generations dear! Let Bacchus, donor of soul-quick’ning cheer, Be present; kindly Juno, be thou near! And, Tyrians, may your choicest favours wait Upon this hour, the bond to celebrate!” 115 She spake and shed an offering on the board; Then sipp’d the bowl whence she the wine had pour’d And gave to Bitias, urging the prompt lord; He rais’d the bowl, and took a long deep draught; Then every chief in turn the beverage quaff’d. 120 Graced with redundant hair, Iopas sings The lore of Atlas, to resounding strings, The labours of the Sun, the lunar wanderings; Whence human kind, and brute; what natural powers Engender lightning, whence are falling showers. 125 He haunts Arcturus,—that fraternal twain The glittering Bears,—the Pleiads fraught with rain; —Why suns in winter, shunning heaven’s steep heights Post seaward,—what impedes the tardy nights. The learned song from Tyrian hearers draws 130 Loud shouts,—the Trojans echo the applause. —But, lengthening out the night with converse new, Large draughts of love unhappy Dido drew; Of Priam ask’d, of Hector—o’er and o’er— What arms the son of bright Aurora wore;— 135 What steeds the car of Diomed could boast; Among the leaders of the Grecian host How look’d Achilles, their dread paramount— “But nay—the fatal wiles, O guest, recount, Retrace the Grecian cunning from its source, 140 Your own grief and your friends’—your wandering course; For now, till this seventh summer have ye rang’d The sea, or trod the earth, to peace estrang’d.”