HKB
yields, tho’ late, And mourns with mortal groans th’ approaching fate: The roots no more their upper load sustain; But down she falls, and spreads a ruin thro’ the plain.
“Descending thence, I scape thro’ foes and fire: Before the goddess, foes and flames retire. Arriv’d at home, he, for whose only sake, Or most for his, such toils I undertake, The good Anchises, whom, by timely flight, I purpos’d to secure on Ida’s height, Refus’d the journey, resolute to die And add his fun’rals to the fate of Troy, Rather than exile and old age sustain. ‘Go you, whose blood runs warm in ev’ry vein. Had Heav’n decreed that I should life enjoy, Heav’n had decreed to save unhappy Troy. ’Tis, sure, enough, if not too much, for one, Twice to have seen our Ilium overthrown. Make haste to save the poor remaining crew, And give this useless corpse a long adieu. These weak old hands suffice to stop my breath; At least the pitying foes will aid my death, To take my spoils, and leave my body bare: As for my sepulcher, let Heav’n take care. ’Tis long since I, for my celestial wife Loath’d by the gods, have dragg’d a ling’ring life; Since ev’ry hour and moment I expire, Blasted from heav’n by Jove’s avenging fire.’ This oft repeated, he stood fix’d to die: Myself, my wife, my son, my family, Intreat, pray, beg, and raise a doleful cry. ‘What, will he still persist, on death resolve, And in his ruin all his house involve!’ He still persists his reasons to maintain; Our pray’rs, our tears, our loud laments, are vain.