that thought were crime: I ask but for tidings that I
may bear to my son down in the spectral world.”
Meantime the Goddess of Dawn had lifted on high her 25
kindly light for suffering mortality, recalling them to task
and toil. Already father Æneas, already Tarchon, have
set up their funeral piles along the winding shore. Hither
each man brings the body of friend or kinsman as the rites
of his sires command; and as the murky flames are applied 30
below, darkness veils the heights of heaven in gloom.
Thrice they ran their courses round the lighted pyres,