Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/131

He on the heights of Cynthus moves,
And binds his hair's loose flow
With cincture of the leaf he loves:
Behind him sounds his bow:
So firm Æneas' graceful tread,
So bright the glories round his head.

Now to the mountain-slopes they come,
And tangled woods, the silvan's home;
See! startled from the craggy brow,
Wild goats run hurrying down below:
There, yet more timid, bands of deer
Scour the wide plains in full career,
And turn their backs on wood and height,
While dust-clouds gather o'er their flight.
But young Ascanius on his steed
With boyish ardour glows,
And now in ecstacy of speed
He passes these, now those:
For him too peaceful and too tame
The pleasure of the hunted game:
He longs to see the foaming boar,
Or hear the tawny lion's roar.

Meantime, loud thunder-peals resound,
And hail and rain the sky confound:
And Tyrian chiefs and sons of Troy,
And Venus' care, the princely boy,
Seek each his shelter, winged with dread,
While torrents from the hills run red.
Driven haply to the same retreat
The Dardan chief and Dido meet.
Then Earth, the venerable dame,
And Juno give the sign:
Heaven lightens with attesting flame,
And bids its torches shine,