I. When Turnus from Laurentum's tower afar
Signalled the strife, and bade the war-horns bray,
And stirred the mettled steeds, and woke the war,
Hearts leaped at once; all Latium swore that day
The oath of battle, burning for the fray.
Messapus, Ufens, and [Mezentius vain,
Who scorned the Gods,] ride foremost. Far away
They scour the fields; the shepherd and the swain		1
Rush to the war, and bare of ploughmen lies the plain.

II. To [Diomed] posts Venulus, to crave
His aid, and tell how Teucrians hold the land;
Æneas with his gods hath crossed the wave,
And claims the throne his vaunted Fates demand.
How many a tribe hath joined the Dardan's band,
How spreads his fame through Latium. What the foe
May purpose next, what conquest he hath planned,
Should friendly fortune speed the coming blow,		10
Better than Latium's king Ætolia's lord must know.

III. So Latium fares. Æneas, tost with tides
Of thought, for well he marked the growing fight,
This way and that his eager mind divides,
Reflects, revolves and ponders on his plight.
As waters in a brazen urn flash bright,
Smit by the sunbeam or the moon's pale rays,
And round the chamber flits the trembling light,
And darts aloft, and on the ceiling plays,		19
So many a varying mood his anxious mind displays.
IV. 'Twas night; the tired world rested. Far and nigh
All slept, the cattle and the fowls of air.
Stretched on a bank, beneath the cold, clear sky,
Lay good Æneas, fain at length to share
Late slumber, troubled by the war with care.
When, 'twixt the poplars, where the fair stream flows,
With azure mantle, and with sedge-crowned hair,
The aged Genius of the place uprose,		28
And, standing by, thus spake, and comforted his woes:
V. "Blest seed of Heaven! who from the foemen's hand
Our Troy dost bring, and to an endless date
Preservest Pergama; whom Latium's land
Hath looked for, and Laurentum's fields await,
Here, doubt not, are thy homegods, here hath Fate
Thy home decreed. Let not war's terrors seem
To daunt thee. Heaven is weary of its hate;
Its storms are spent. Distrust not, nor esteem		37
These words of idle worth, the coinage of a dream.
VI. "Hard by, beneath yon oak-trees, thou shalt see
A huge, white swine, and, clustering around
Her teats, are thirty young ones, white as she.
There shall thy labour with repose be crown'd,
Thy city set. There Alba's walls renowned,
When twice ten times hath rolled the circling year,
Called Alba Longa, shall Ascanius found.
Sure stands the word; and now attend and hear,		46
How best through present straits a prosperous course to steer.