e hanging grove:
In face hereof a cave there is of rocks o'erhung, made meet
With benches of the living stone and springs of water sweet,
The house of Nymphs: a-riding there may way-worn ships be bold
To lie without the hawser's strain or anchor's hooked hold.

That bight with seven of all his tale of ships AEneas gained, 170
And there, by mighty love of land the Trojans sore constrained,
Leap off-board straight, and gain the gift of that so longed-for sand,
And lay their limbs with salt sea fouled adown upon the strand:
And first Achates smote alive the spark from out the flint,
And caught the fire in tinder-leaves, and never gift did stint
Of feeding dry; and flame enow in kindled stuff he woke;
Then Ceres' body spoilt with sea, and Ceres' arms they took,
And sped the matter spent with toil, and fruit of furrows found
They set about to parch with fire and 'twixt of stones to pound.

Meanwhile AEneas scaled the cliff and far and wide he swept 180
The main, if anywhere perchance the sea his Antheus kept,
Tossed by the wind, if he might see the twi-banked Phrygians row;
If Capys, or Caicus' arms on lofty deck might show.
Nor any ship there was in sight, but on the strand he saw
Three stags a-wandering at their will, and after them they draw
The whole herd following down the dales long strung out as they feed:
So still he stood, and caught in hand his bow and shafts of speed,
The weapons that Achates staunch was bearing then and oft;
And first the very lords of those, that bore their heads aloft
With branching horns, he felled, and then the common sort, and so 190
Their army drave he with his darts through leafy woods to go:
Nor held his hand till on the earth were seven great bodies strown,
And each of all his ships might have one head of deer her own.
Thence to the haven gat he gone with all his folk to share,
And that good wine which erst the casks Acestes made to bear,
And gave them as they went away on that Trinacrian beach,
He shared about; then fell to soothe their grieving hearts with speech:

"O fellows, we are used ere now by evil ways to wend;
O ye who erst bore heavier loads, this too the Gods shall end.
Ye, ye have drawn nigh Scylla's rage and rocks that inly roar, 200
And run the risk of storm of stones upon the Cyclops' shore:
Come,