in that peerless countenance. When they reach the high
mountains and the pathless coverts, see! the wild goats,
dropping from the tops of the crags, have run down the
slopes; in another quarter the deer are scouring the open
plains, massing their herds as they fly in a whirlwind of
dust, and leaving the mountains. But young Ascanius
is in the heart of the glens, exulting in his fiery courser.
Now he passes one, now another of his comrades at full 5
speed, and prays that in the midst of such spiritless game
he may be blest with the sight of a foaming boar, or that