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192 The sentry thus in slumber drowned,

Æneas takes the vacant ground,

And quickly passes from the side

Of the irremeable tide.

Hark! as they enter, shrieks arise,

And wailing great and sore,

The souls of infants uttering cries

At ingress of the door,

Whom, portionless of life's sweet bliss,

From mother's breast untimely torn,

The black day hurried to the abyss

And plunged in darkness soon as born.

Next those are placed whom slander's breath

By false arraignment did to death.

Nor lacks e'en here the law's appeal,

Nor sits no judge the lots to deal.

Sage Minos shakes the impartial urn,

And calls a court of those below,

The life of each intent to learn

And what the cause that wrought them woe.

Next comes their portion in the gloom

Who guiltless sent themselves to doom,

And all for loathing of the day

In madness threw their lives away:

How gladly now in upper air

Contempt and beggary would they bear,

And labour's sorest pain!

Fate bars the way: around their keep

The slow unlovely waters creep

And bind with ninefold chain.

Next come, wide stretching here and there,

The Mourning Fields: such name they bear.