Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/74

50 All wretch, whom his demented maid

Had warned, but warned in vain!

So, when I saw them round me form,

And knew their blood was pulsing warm,

I thus began: 'Brave spirits, wrought

To noblest temper, all for naught,

If desperate venture ye desire,

Ye see our lost estate:

Gone from each fane, each secret shrine,

Are those who made this realm divine:

The town ye aid is wrapt in fire:

Come—rush we on our fate.

No safety may the vanquished find

Till hope of safety be resigned.'

So valour grew to madness. Then,

Like gaunt wolves rushing from their den,

Whom lawless hunger's sullen growl

Drives forth into the night to prowl,

The while, with jaws all parched and black,

Their famished whelps expect them back,

Amid the volley and the foe,

With death before our eyes, we go

On through the town, while darkness spreads

Its hollow covert o'er our heads.

What witness could recount aright

The woes, the carnage of that night,

Or make his tributary sighs

Keep measure with our agonies?

An ancient city topples down

From broad-based heights of old renown:

There in the street confusedly strown

Lie age and helplessness o'erthrown,

Block up the entering of the doors,

And cumber Heaven's own temple-floors.