Be merciful and tell beneath what sky at length,
Upon what shores we ‘re tossed. For ignorant of men
And land we wander, driven on by wind and wave
In vast conspiracy.
Full many a victim slain
Upon thine altars shall repay thine aid.
Venus (335-350):
For me,
I claim no homage due the gods. Behold a maid
Of ancient Tyre, with quiver girt and feet high shod