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With cincture of the leaf he loves:

Behind him sounds his bow;—

So firm Æneas' graceful tread,

So bright the glories round his head.

But young Ascanius on his steed

With boyish ardour glows,

And now in ecstacy of speed

He passes these, now those:

For him too peaceful and too tame

The pleasure of the hunted game:

He longs to see the foaming boar,

Or hear the tawny lion's roar.

Meantime, loud thunder-peals resound,

And hail and rain the sky confound:

And Tyrian chiefs and sons of Troy,

And Venus' care, the princely boy,

Seek each his shelter, winged with dread,

While torrents from the hills run red.

Driven haply to the same retreat,

The Dardan chief and Dido meet.

Then Earth, the venerable dame,

And Juno, give the sign:

Heaven lightens with attesting flame,

And bids its torches shine,

And from the summit of the peak

The nymphs shrill out the nuptial shriek.

That day she first began to die;

That day first taught her to defy

The public tongue, the public eye.

No secret love is Dido's aim:

She calls it marriage now; such name

She chooses to conceal her shame."