Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/230

206 And Lethe river, which flows by

Those dwellings of tranquillity.

Nations and tribes, in countless ranks,

Were crowding to its verdant banks:

As bees afield in summer clear

Beset the flowerets far and near

And round the fair white lilies pour:

The deep hum sounds the champaign o'er.

Æneas, startled at the scene,

Asks wondering what the noise may mean,

What river this, or what the throng:

That crowds so thick its banks along.

His sire replies: 'The souls are they

Whom Fate will reunite to clay:

There stooping down on Lethe's brink

A deep oblivious draught they drink.

Fain would I muster in review

Before your eyes that shadowy crew.

That you, their sire, may joy with me

To think of new-found Italy.'

'O father! and can thought conceive

That happy souls this realm would leave,

And seek the upper sky,

With sluggish clay to reunite?

This direful longing for the light,

Whence comes it, say, and why?'

'Learn then, my son, nor longer pause

In wonder at the hidden cause,'

Replies Anchises, and withdraws

The veil before his eye.

'Know first, the heaven, the earth, the main,

The moon's pale orb, the starry train,

Are nourished by a soul,

A bright intelligence, which darts

Its influence through the several parts

And animates the whole.