Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/413

Where warlike deeds might well be planned,
Or would men combat band to hand,
Or on the ridge in shelter stand
And rocky fragments drop.
The well-known way the warrior takes,
And in the wood his ambush makes.

Meanwhile Diana, high in air,
To Opis at her side,
Her huntress-comrade, chaste and fair,
In mournful accents cried:
'There goes Camilla to the fight,
In those our arms all vainly dight,
Beloved beyond the rest;
For not of yesterday there came
This passion, with a sudden flame
To touch Diana's breast.
When Metabus, for tyrant wrong
Driven from the realm be scourged so long,
Privernum's ancient walls forsook,
His infant girl in arms he took
His banishment to share;
Casmilla was her mother styled;
He changed the sound, and gave his child
Camilla's name to bear.
He with his precious load in haste
Was making for the mountain waste,
By arrow-flights and javelins chased
And thronging Volscian powers:
Lo, as be hurries, Amasene,
Brimming and foaming, roars between,
Swollen high with new-fallen showers.
Fain would he plunge and swim to shore,
But paused, for love of her he bore:
Long conning each expedient o'er,
A course be sees at last: