Trojan at His altar, and not a vow!
Deemest mighty mouth of His awful shrine
Will open but to answer prayer from thine?”
Æneas had kept silence, not from fear,
Or shame, but reverence; now he drew near,
Entreating from the bottom of his heart:
“Phœbus, Troy’s champion, when few took our part;
Through whom Achilles died—whose kindly hands
Led us o’er false seas, past perilous lands—
O turn the shores where we have anchor cast,