Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/152

128 Rise from my ashes, scourge of crime,

Born to pursue the Dardan horde

To-day, to-morrow, through all time,

Oft as our hands can wield the sword:

Fight shore with shore, fight sea with sea,

Fight all that are or e'er shall be!'

She ceased, and with her heart debates

How best to leave the life she hates.

Then to Sychæus' nurse she cried

(For hers erewhile at Tyre had died)

'Good nurse, my sister Anna bring:

O'er face and body bid her fling

Pure drops from lustral bough:

So sprinkled come, and at her side

The victims lead: you too provide

A fillet for your brow.

A sacrifice to Stygian Jove

I here perform, to ease my love,

And give to flame the fatal bed

Which pillowed once the Trojan's head.'

Thus she: the aged dame gives heed,

And, feebly hurrying, mends her speed.

Then, maddening over crime, the queen,

With bloodshot eyes, and sanguine streaks

Fresh painted on her quivering cheeks,

And wanning o'er with death foreseen,

Through inner portals wildly fares,

Scales the high pile with swift ascent,

Takes up the Dardan sword and bares,

Sad gift, for different uses meant.

She eyed the robes with wistful look,

And, pausing, thought awhile and wept:

Then pressed her to the couch, and spoke

Her last goodnight or ere she slept.