The Aeneid by Virgil (best novel books to read TXT) đ
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Virgilâs epic poem begins with Aeneas fleeing the ruins of Troy with his father Anchises and his young son Ascanius, with a plan to make a home in Italy. Because of a prophecy foretelling that the descendants of Aeneas will one day destroy Carthage, Junoâs favorite city, Juno orders the god of the winds to unleash a terrible storm. The ships are thrown off course and arrive at an African port. As Aeneas makes his way towards his new home he encounters Dido, Carthageâs queen, and falls deeply in love.
Although Charles W. Elliot stated that âthe modern appreciation of the Iliad and the Odyssey has tended to carry with it a depreciation of the Aeneid,â this epic poem continues to inspire artists, writers, and musicians centuries after its first telling. John Drydenâs translation captures the musicality of the original Latin verses while avoiding the stumbling of an English translation forced into dactylic hexameter.
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- Author: Virgil
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âWhoeâer you areâ ânot unbelovâd by Heavân,
Since on our friendly shore your ships are drivânâ â
Have courage: to the gods permit the rest,
And to the queen expose your just request.
Now take this earnest of success, for more:
Your scatterâd fleet is joinâd upon the shore;
The winds are changâd, your friends from danger free;
Or I renounce my skill in augury.
Twelve swans behold in beauteous order move,
And stoop with closing pinions from above;
Whom late the bird of Jove had drivân along,
And throâ the clouds pursued the scattâring throng:
Now, all united in a goodly team,
They skim the ground, and seek the quiet stream.
As they, with joy returning, clap their wings,
And ride the circuit of the skies in rings;
Not otherwise your ships, and evâry friend,
Already hold the port, or with swift sails descend.
No more advice is needful; but pursue
The path before you, and the town in view.â
Thus having said, she turnâd, and made appear
Her neck refulgent, and dishevelâd hair,
Which, flowing from her shoulders, reachâd the ground.
And widely spread ambrosial scents around:
In length of train descends her sweeping gown;
And, by her graceful walk, the Queen of Love is known.
The prince pursued the parting deity
With words like these: âAh! whither do you fly?
Unkind and cruel! to deceive your son
In borrowâd shapes, and his embrace to shun;
Never to bless my sight, but thus unknown;
And still to speak in accents not your own.â
Against the goddess these complaints he made,
But took the path, and her commands obeyâd.
They march, obscure; for Venus kindly shrouds
With mists their persons, and involves in clouds,
That, thus unseen, their passage none might stay,
Or force to tell the causes of their way.
This part performâd, the goddess flies sublime
To visit Paphos and her native clime;
Where garlands, ever green and ever fair,
With vows are offerâd, and with solemn prayâr:
A hundred altars in her temple smoke;
A thousand bleeding hearts her powâr invoke.
They climb the next ascent, and, looking down,
Now at a nearer distance view the town.
The prince with wonder sees the stately towârs,
Which late were huts and shepherdsâ homely bowârs,
The gates and streets; and hears, from evâry part,
The noise and busy concourse of the mart.
The toiling Tyrians on each other call
To ply their labour: some extend the wall;
Some build the citadel; the brawny throng
Or dig, or push unwieldly stones along.
Some for their dwellings choose a spot of ground,
Which, first designâd, with ditches they surround.
Some laws ordain; and some attend the choice
Of holy senates, and elect by voice.
Here some design a mole, while others there
Lay deep foundations for a theatre;
From marble quarries mighty columns hew,
For ornaments of scenes, and future view.
Such is their toil, and such their busy pains,
As exercise the bees in flowâry plains,
When winter past, and summer scarce begun,
Invites them forth to labour in the sun;
Some lead their youth abroad, while some condense
Their liquid store, and some in cells dispense;
Some at the gate stand ready to receive
The golden burthen, and their friends relieve;
All with united force, combine to drive
The lazy drones from the labourious hive:
With envy stung, they view each otherâs deeds;
The fragrant work with diligence proceeds.
âThrice happy you, whose walls already rise!â
Aeneas said, and viewâd, with lifted eyes,
Their lofty towârs; then, entâring at the gate,
Concealâd in clouds (prodigious to relate)
He mixâd, unmarkâd, among the busy throng,
Borne by the tide, and passâd unseen along.
Full in the centre of the town there stood,
Thick set with trees, a venerable wood.
The Tyrians, landing near this holy ground,
And digging here, a prospârous omen found:
From under earth a courserâs head they drew,
Their growth and future fortune to foreshew.
This fated sign their foundress Juno gave,
Of a soil fruitful, and a people brave.
Sidonian Dido here with solemn state
Did Junoâs temple build, and consecrate,
Enrichâd with gifts, and with a golden shrine;
But more the goddess made the place divine.
On brazen steps the marble threshold rose,
And brazen plates the cedar beams inclose:
The rafters are with brazen covârings crownâd;
The lofty doors on brazen hinges sound.
What first Aeneas in this place beheld,
Revivâd his courage, and his fear expellâd.
For while, expecting there the queen, he raisâd
His wondâring eyes, and round the temple gazâd,
Admirâd the fortune of the rising town,
The striving artists, and their artsâ renown;
He saw, in order painted on the wall,
Whatever did unhappy Troy befall:
The wars that fame around the world had blown,
All to the life, and evâry leader known.
There Agamemnon, Priam here, he spies,
And fierce Achilles, who both kings defies.
He stoppâd, and weeping said: âO friend! evân here
The monuments of Trojan woes appear!
Our known disasters fill evân foreign lands:
See there, where old unhappy Priam stands!
Evân the mute walls relate the warriorâs fame,
And Trojan griefs the Tyriansâ pity claim.â
He said, his tears a ready passage find,
Devouring what he saw so well designâd,
And with an empty picture fed his mind:
For there he saw the fainting Grecians yield,
And here the trembling Trojans quit the field,
Pursued by fierce Achilles throâ the plain,
On his high chariot driving oâer the slain.
The tents of Rhesus next, his grief renew,
By their white sails betrayâd to nightly view;
And wakeful Diomede, whose cruel sword
The sentries slew, nor sparâd their slumbâring lord,
Then took the fiery steeds, ere yet the food
Of Troy they taste, or drink the Xanthian flood.
Elsewhere he saw where Troilus defied
Achilles, and unequal combat tried;
Then, where the boy disarmâd, with loosenâd reins,
Was by his horses hurried oâer the plains,
Hung by the neck and hair, and draggâd around:
The hostile spear, yet sticking in his wound,
With tracks of blood inscribâd the dusty ground.
Meantime the Trojan dames, oppressâd with woe,
To Pallasâ fane in long procession go,
In hopes to reconcile their heavânly foe.
They weep, they beat their breasts, they rend their hair,
And rich embroiderâd vests for presents bear;
But the stern goddess stands unmovâd with prayâr.
Thrice round the Trojan walls Achilles drew
The corpse of Hector, whom in fight he slew.
Here Priam sues; and there, for sums of gold,
The lifeless body of his son is sold.
So sad an object, and so well expressâd,
Drew sighs and groans from the grievâd heroâs breast,
To see the figure of his lifeless friend,
And his old sire his helpless hand extend.
Himself he saw amidst the Grecian train,
Mixâd in the bloody battle on the plain;
And swarthy Memnon in his arms he knew,
His pompous ensigns,
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