LVII. "'Seek Juno first; great Juno's power adore;
With suppliant gifts the potent queen constrain,
And winds shall waft thee to Italia's shore.
There, when at Cumæ landing from the main,
Avernus' lakes and sounding woods ye gain,
Thyself shalt see, within her rock-hewn shrine,
The frenzied prophetess, whose mystic strain
Expounds the Fates, to leaves of trees consign		505
The notes and names that mark the oracles divine.
LVIII. "'Whate'er the maiden on those leaves doth trace,
In rows she sorts, and in the cave doth store.
There rest they, nor their sequence change, nor place,
Save when, by chance, on grating hinge the door
Swings open, and a light breath sweeps the floor,
Or rougher blasts the tender leaves disperse.
Loose then they flutter, for she recks no more
To call them back, and rearrange the verse;		514
Untaught the votaries leave, the Sibyl's cave to curse.
LIX. "'But linger thou, nor count thy lingering vain,
Though comrades chide, and breezes woo the fleet.
Approach the prophetess; with prayer unchain
Her voice to speak. She shall the tale repeat
Of wars in Italy, thy destined seat,—
What toils to shun, what dangers to despise,—
And make the triumph of thy quest complete.
Thou hast whate'er 'tis lawful to advise;		523
Go, and with deathless deeds raise Ilion to the skies.'

LX. "So spake the seer, and shipward bids his friends
Rich gifts convey, and store them in the hold.
Gold, silver plate, carved ivory he sends,
With massive caldrons of [Dodona's] mould;
A coat of mail, with triple chain of gold,
And shining helm, with cone and flowing crest,
The arms of Pyrrhus, glorious to behold.
Nor lacks my sire his presents; for the rest		532
Steeds, guides and arms he finds, and oarsmen of the best.
LXI. "Then to Anchises, as he bids us spread
The sails, with reverence speaks Apollo's seer,
'Far-famed Anchises, honoured with the bed
Of haughty Venus, Heaven's peculiar care,
Twice saved from Troy! behold Ausonia there,
Steer towards her coasts, yet skirt them; far away
That region lies, which Phoebus doth prepare.
Blest in thy son's devotion, take thy way.		541
Why should more words of mine the rising South delay?'
LXII. "Nor less Andromache, sore grieved to part,
Rich raiment fetches, wrought with golden thread,
And Phrygian scarf, and still with bounteous heart
Loads him with broideries. 'Take these,' she said,
'Sole image of Astyanax now dead.
Thy kin's last gifts, my handiwork, to show
How Hector's widow loved the son she bred.
Such eyes had he, such very looks as thou,		550
Such hands, and oh! like thine his age were ripening now!'
LXIII. "With gushing tears I bid the pair farewell.
Live happy ye, whose destinies are o'er;
We still must wander where the Fates compel.
Your rest is won; no oceans to explore,
No fair Ausonia's ever-fading shore.
Ye still can see a Xanthus and a Troy,
Reared by your hands, old Ilion to restore,
And brighter auspices than ours enjoy,		559
Nor tempt, like ours, the Greeks to ravage and destroy.
LXIV. "'If ever Tiber and the fields I see
Washed by her waves, ere mingling with the brine,
And build the city which the Fates decree,
Then kindred towns and neighbouring folk shall join,
Yours in Epirus, in Hesperia mine,
And linked thenceforth in sorrow and in joy,
With Dardanus the founder of each line,—
So let posterity its pains employ,		568
Two nations, one in heart, shall make another Troy.'