With equal ardour fired and warlike joy, His glowing friend address'd the Dardan boy:

'These deeds, my Nisus, shalt thou dare alone?

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Must all the fame, the peril, be thine own?
Am I by thee despised and left afar,
As one unfit to share the toils of war?
Not thus his son the great Opheltes taught;
Not thus my sire in Argive combats fought;
Not thus, when Ilion fell by heavenly hate,
I track'd Æneas through the walks of fate:
Thou know'st my deeds, my breast devoid
of fear,

And hostile life-drops dim my gory spear.
Here is a soul with hope immortal burns,
And life, ignoble life, for glory spurns.
Fame, fame is cheaply earn'd by fleeting
breath:

The price of honour is the sleep of death.'

1

50

Then Nisus, Calm thy bosom's fond alarms,

Thy heart beats fiercely to the din of

And poised with easy arm his ancient shield;

When Nisus and his friend their leave request

To offer something to their high behest. With anxious tremors, yet unawed by fear,

Where yonder beacons half-expiring beam, Our slumbering foes of future conquest

dream,

Nor heed that we a secret path have traced, Between the ocean and the portal placed, Beneath the covert of the blackening smoke Whose shade securely our design will

cloak !

If you, ye chiefs, and fortune will allow, We'll bend our course to yonder mountain's

brow,

'Ye parent gods! who rule the fate of Troy,

Still dwells the Dardan spirit in the boy; When minds like these in striplings thus ye raise,

Yours is the godlike act, be yours the praise;

In gallant youth my fainting hopes revive, And Ilion's wonted glories still survive.' Then in his warm embrace the boys he press'd,

And, quivering, strain'd them to his aged breast;

With tears the burning cheek of each bedew'd,

And, sobbing, thus his first discourse renew'd:

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'What gift, my countrymen, what martial prize

Can we bestow, which you may not despise ?

Our deities the first best boon have given Internal virtues are the gift of Heaven. What poor rewards can bless your deeds on earth,

Doubtless await such young, exalted worth.
Eneas and Ascanius shall combine

To yield applause far, far surpassing mine.'
Iulus then: -'By all the powers above!
By those Penates who my country love! 140
By hoary Vesta's sacred fane, I swear,
My hopes are all in you, ye generous pair!
Restore my father to my grateful sight,
And all my sorrows yield to one delight.
Nisus! two silver goblets are thine own,

To Turnus dear, a prophet and a prince,
His omens more than augur's skill evince;
But he, who thus foretold the fate of all,
Could not avert his own untimely fall.
Next Remus' armour-bearer, hapless, fell,
And three unhappy slaves the carnage swell;
The charioteer along his courser's sides
Expires, the steel his sever'd neck divides;
And, last, his lord is number'd with the
dead:

Bounding convulsive, flies the gasping head; From the swoll'n veins the blackening torrents pour;

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Stain'd is the couch and earth with clotting gore.

Young Lamyrus and Lamus next expire, And gay Serranus, fill'd with youthful fire; Half the long night in childish games was

pass'd;

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On every side they seek his absent friend. O God! my boy,' he cries, 'of me bereft, In what impending perils art thou left!' Listening he runs above the waving trees Tumultuous voices swell the passing breeze; The war-cry rises, thundering hoofs around Wake the dark echoes of the trembling ground.

Again he turns, of footsteps hears the noise; The sound elates, the sight his hope destroys: The hapless boy a ruffian train surround, While lengthening shades his weary way confound;

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