The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Aeneid, by Virgil
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Title: The Aeneid
Author: Virgil
Release Date: March 10, 2008 [EBook #228]
Language: English
Produced by Anonymous Volunteers and David Widger
19 BC
THE AENEID
by Virgil
BOOK I | BOOK II | BOOK III | BOOK IV |
BOOK V | BOOK VI | BOOK VII | BOOK VIII |
BOOK IX | BOOK X | BOOK XI | BOOK XII |
BOOK I
Arms, and the man I sing, who, forc'd by fate,
And haughty Juno's
unrelenting hate,
Expell'd and exil'd, left the Trojan shore.
Long labors, both by sea and land, he bore,
And in the doubtful war,
before he won
The Latian realm, and built the destin'd town;
His
banish'd gods restor'd to rites divine,
And settled sure succession
in his line,
From whence the race of Alban fathers come,
And the
long glories of majestic Rome.
O Muse! the causes and the crimes relate;
What goddess was provok'd,
and whence her hate;
For what offense the Queen of Heav'n began
To persecute so brave, so just a man;
Involv'd his anxious life in
endless cares,
Expos'd to wants, and hurried into wars!
Can
heav'nly minds such high resentment show,
Or exercise their spite in
human woe
Against the Tiber's mouth, but far away,
An ancient town was seated
on the sea;
A Tyrian colony; the people made
Stout for the war,
and studious of their trade:
Carthage the name; belov'd by Juno more
Than her own Argos, or the Samian shore.
Here stood her chariot;
here, if Heav'n were kind,
The seat of awful empire she design'd.
Yet she had heard an ancient rumor fly,
(Long cited by the people of
the sky,)
That times to come should see the Trojan race
Her
Carthage ruin, and her tow'rs deface;
Nor thus confin'd, the yoke of
sov'reign sway
Should on the necks of all the nations lay.
She
ponder'd this, and fear'd it was in fate;
Nor could forget the war
she wag'd of late
For conqu'ring Greece against the Trojan state.
Besides, long causes working in her mind,
And secret seeds of envy,
lay behind;
Deep graven in her heart the doom remain'd
Of
partial Paris, and her form disdain'd;
The grace bestow'd on ravish'd
Ganymed,
Electra's glories, and her injur'd bed.
Each was a
cause alone; and all combin'd
To kindle vengeance in her haughty
mind.
For this, far distant from the Latian coast
She drove the
remnants of the Trojan host;
And sev'n long years th' unhappy
wand'ring train
Were toss'd by storms, and scatter'd thro' the main.
Such time, such toil, requir'd the Roman name,
Such length of labor
for so vast a frame.