Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 2.djvu/124

318 O Virgin! or what other Name you bear Above that style; O more than mortal fair! Your Voice and Meen Cœlestial Birth betray! If, as you seem, the Sister of the Day; Or one at least of Chast Diana's Train, Let not an humble Suppliant sue in vain: But tell a Stranger, long in Tempests tost, What Earth we tread, and who commands the Coast? Then on your Name shall wretched Mortals call; And offer'd Victims at your Altars fall. I dare not, she reply'd, assume the Name Of Goddess, or Cœlestial Honours claim: For Tyrian Virgins Bows and Quivers bear, And Purple Buskins o'er their Ankles wear. Know, gentle Youth, in Lybian Lands you are: A People rude in Peace, and rough in War. The rising City, which from far you see, Is Carthage; and a Tyrian Colony. Phenician Dido rules the growing State, Who fled from Tyre, to shun her Brother's hate: Great were her wrongs, her Story full of Fate; Which I will sum in short. Sicheus known For wealth, and Brother to the Punic Throne, Possess'd fair Dido's Bed: And either heart At once was wounded with an equal Dart. Her Father gave her, yet a spotless Maid; Pigmalion then the Tyrian Scepter sway'd: