Arms and the man I sing, who first made way,

Predestined exile, from the Trojan shore

To Italy, the blest Lavinian strand.
Smitten of storms he was on land and sea
By violence of Heaven, to satisfy 5
Stern Junos sleepless wrath; and much in war
He suffered, seeking at the last to found
The city, and bring oer his fathers gods
To safe abode in Latium; whence arose
The Latin race, old Albas reverend lords, 10
And from her hills wide-walled, imperial Rome.
O Muse, the causes tell! What sacrilege,
Or vengeful sorrow, moved the heavenly Queen
To thrust on dangers dark and endless toil
A man whose largest honor in mens eyes 15
Was serving Heaven? Can gods such anger feel?
In ages gones an ancient city stood
Carthage, a Tyrian seat, which from afar
Made front on Italy and on the mouths
Of Tibers stream; its wealth and revenues 20
Were vast, and ruthless was its quest of war.
T is said that Juno, of all lands she loved,
Most cherished this,not Samos self so dear.
Here were her arms, her chariot; even then
A throne of power oer nations near and far, 25
If Fate opposed not, t was her darling hope
To stablish here; but anxiously she heard
That of the Trojan blood there was a breed
Then rising, which upon the destined day
Should utterly oerwhelm her Tyrian towers; 30
A people of wide sway and conquest proud
Should compass Libyas doom;such was the web
The Fatal Sisters spun.
Such was the fear
Of Saturns daughter, who remembered well
What long and unavailing strife she waged 35
For her loved Greeks at Troy. Nor did she fail
To meditate th occasions of her rage,
And cherish deep within her bosom proud
Its griefs and wrongs: the choice by Paris made;
Her scorned and slighted beauty; a whole race 40
Rebellious to her godhead; and Joves smile
That beamed on eagle-ravished Ganymede.
With all these thoughts infuriate, her power
Pursued with tempests oer the boundless main
The Trojans, though by Grecian victor spared 45
And fierce Achilles; so she thrust them far
From Latium; and they drifted, Heaven-impelled,

Year after year, oer many an unknown sea

O labor vast, to found the Roman line!
Below th horizon the Sicilian isle 50
Just sank from view, as for the open sea
With heart of hope they said, and every ship
Clove with its brazen beak the salt, white waves.
But Juno of her everlasting wound
Knew no surcease, but from her heart of pain 55
Thus darkly mused: Must I, defeated, fail
Of what I will, nor turn the Teucrian King
From Italy away? Can Fate oppose?
Had Pallas power to lay waste in flame
The Argive fleet and sink its mariners, 60
Revenging but the sacrilege obscene
By Ajax wrought, Oleus desperate son?
She, from the clouds, herself Joves lightning threw,
Scattered the ships, and ploughed the sea with storms.
Her foe, from his pierced breast out-breathing fire, 65
In whirlwind on a deadly rock she flung.
But I, who move among the gods a queen,
Joves sister and his spouse, with one weak tribe
Make war so long! Who now on Juno calls?
What suppliant gifts henceforth her altars crown? 70