Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 1.pdf/380

202 She sprinkl'd thrice, with Wine, the Vestal Fire, Thrice to the vaulted Roof the Flames aspire. Rais'd with so blest an Omen, she begun, With Words like these, to chear her drooping Son. In the Carpathian Bottom makes abode The Shepherd of the Seas, a Prophet and a God; High o'er the Main in wat'ry Pomp he rides, His azure Carr and finny Coursers guides: Proteus his Name: to his Pallenian Port, I see from far the weary God resort. Him, not alone, we River Gods adore, But aged Nereus hearkens to his Lore. With sure foresight, and with unerring Doom, He sees what is, and was, and is to come. This Neptune gave him, when he gave to keep His scaly Flocks, that graze the wat'ry deep. Implore his Aid, for Proteus only knows The secret Cause, and Cure of all thy Woes. But first the wily Wizard must be caught, For unconstrain'd he nothing tells for naught; Nor is with Pray'rs, or Bribes, or Flatt'ry bought. Surprise him first, and with hard Fetters bind; Then all his Frauds will vanish into Wind. I will my self conduct thee on thy Way, When next the Southing Sun inflames the Day: When the dry Herbage thirsts for Dews in vain, And Sheep, in Shades, avoid the parching Plain.