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BOOK II.
Not yet in pure effulgence does the day
Dart o'er th' Ionian seas its steady ray:
But herald gleams amid the blue waves creep,
Their soft vibrations tremble on the deep.
Forgetting now her Mother's charge, the Maid,
Seduced by Venus, seeks the dewy shade.
Thrice, as her home she leaves, the creaking gate
Gives harsh announcement of the will of Fate;
And thrice is heard to rise, from Etna's cone,
Foreboding doom, a melancholy groan.
These she regards not; light of heart, and free,
She moves, and with her move the sisters three.
First Venus, joyous with successful guile,
Steps proudly on, and meditates the while
The coming deed—the triumph of her son
O'er Dis and Chaos, and the Manes won.
Idalia's brightest tiring-pins divide
Her orbed locks; her robe with purple dyed
A jewell'd clasp confines, which Vulcan swart
To grace his bride with curious toil had wrought.
