ts us on the way;
With joy at once he recognised again
His friend Anchises of an earlier day.
And joining hands in fellowship, each fain
To show a friendly heart the palace-halls we gain.

XII. "There, in a temple built of ancient stone
I worship: 'Grant, Thymbrean lord divine,
A home, a settled city of our own,
Walls to the weary, and a lasting line,
To Troy another Pergamus. Incline
And harken. Save these Dardans sore-distrest,
The remnant of Achilles' wrath. Some sign
Vouchsafe us, whom to follow? where to rest?
Steal into Trojan hearts, and make thy power confessed.'

XIII. "Scarce spake I, suddenly the bays divine
Shook, and a trembling seized the temple door.
The mountain heaves, and from the opening shrine
Loud moans the tripod. Prostrate on the floor
We hear a voice; 'Brave hearts, the land that bore
Your sires shall nurse their Dardan sons again.
Seek out your ancient mother; from her shore
Through all the world the AEneian house shall reign,
And sons of sons unborn the lasting line sustain.'

XIV. "Straight rose a joyous uproar; each in turn
Ask what the walls that Phoebus hath designed?
Which way to wander, whither to return?
Then spake my sire, revolving in his mind
The ancient legends of the Trojan kind,
'Chieftains, give ear, and learn your hopes and mine;
Jove's island lies, amid the deep enshrined,
Crete, hundred-towned, a land of corn and wine,
Where Ida's mountain stands, the cradle of our line.

XV. "'Thence Troy's great sire, if I remember right,
Old Teucer, to Rhoeteum crossed the flood,
And for his future kingdom chose a site.
Nor yet proud Ilion nor her towers had stood;
In lowly vales sequestered they abode.
Thence Corybantian cymbals clashed and brayed
In praise of Cybele. In Ida's wood
Her mystic rites in secrecy were paid,
And lions, yoked in pomp, their sovereign's car conveyed.

XVI. "'Come then and seek we, as the gods command,
The Gnosian kingdoms, and the winds entreat.
Short is the way, nor distant lies the land.
If Jove be present and assist our fleet,
The third day lands us on the shores of Crete.'
So spake he and on altars, reared aright,
Due victims offered, and libations meet;
A bull to Neptune and Apollo bright,
To tempest a black lamb, to Western winds a white.

XVII. "Fame flies, Idomeneus has left the land,