cleaves through the fissile[212] oak; they roll down from the
heights huge mountain ashes. There is Æneas, in this, 30
as in other labours, the first to cheer on his comrades, and
wielding a weapon like theirs; and thus he ponders in the
sad silence of his own breast, looking at the immeasurable
wood, and thus gives utterance to his prayer: “Oh that
at this moment that golden branch on the tree would reveal 35
itself to our sight in all this depth of forest! for I see that
in all things the prophetess has told us of you, Misenus,
alas! too truly!” Scarce had he spoken, when, as by