Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/207

Rh There plants the arms the warrior bore,

The trumpet and the shapely oar,

Beneath a mountain high in air,

Which bears, and evermore shall bear

From him Misenus' name.

This done, he hastens to fulfil

The dictates of the Sibyl's will.

Before his eyes a monstrous cave

Expands its yawning womb,

Protected by the lake's dark wave

And forest's leafy gloom:

O'er that dread space no flying thing

Unjeopardied could ply its wing;

Such noisome exhalations rise

From out its darkness to the skies.

Here first the priestess sets in view

Four goodly bulls of sable hue,

And 'twixt their horns pours forth the wine:

The topmost hairs she next plucks out,

That bristling on the forehead sprout,

An offering to the flame divine;

On Hecate the while she cries,

The Mighty One of shades and skies.

Some 'neath the throat thrust in the knife

And catch in cups the stream of life.

To Earth, and Night, the Furies' dam,

Æneas slays a black ewe-lamb,

And bids a barren heifer bleed,

For thee, dread Proserpine, decreed.

To Pluto then he sets alight

High altars, flaming through the night,

And on the embers lays

Whole bulls, denuded of their hide,

Still pouring oil in copious tide

To feed the surging blaze.