None lead the reader in the dark along,
To the last goal that terminates the song.
Sometimes th' event must glance upon the sight,
By a short glimm'ring, and malignant light,
That shifts, and just diversifies the night.
'Tis thus Anchises to his son relates,
The various series of his future fates;
For this the [1]prophets see on Tyber's shore,
Wars, horrid wars, and Latium red with gore,
A new Achilles rising to destroy
With boundless rage, the poor remains of Troy;
But raise his mind with prospects of success,
And give the promise of a lasting peace.
This knew the hero when he sought the plains,
Sprung[2] from his ships, and charg'd th' embattled swains,
Hew'd down the Latian troops with matchless might,
(The first, auspicious omen of the fight,)
And at one blow gigantick Theron kill'd,
Bold, but in vain, and foremost of the field,
Thus
