1 Not of my will do I follow Italy.
2 I seek Italy my country, my kin of Jove's supreme blood.
3 Achates first raises the cry of Italy; and with joyous shouts my comrades salute Italy.
4 Italy is your goal; wooing the winds you shall go to Italy, and enter her harbours unhindered.
5 But now for broad Italy hath Apollo of Grynos bidden me steer, for Italy the oracles of Lycia.
6 Noble Aeneas, not did Jupiter give word and warrant would I hope to reach Italy under such a sky.
7 And now reddening Dawn had chased away the stars, when we descry afar dim hills and the low line of Italy.
8 We put out to sea, keeping the Ceraunian mountains close at hand, whence is the shortest passage and seaway to Italy.
9 Carry through to Italy thy chosen men and bravest souls; in Latium must thou war down a people hard and rough in living.
10 The nations of Italy and the wars to come, and the fashion whereby every toil may be avoided or endured, she shall unfold to thee, and grant her worshipper prosperous passage.
11 There is a place Greeks name Hesperia, an ancient land, mighty in arms and foison of the clod; Oenotrian men dwelt therein; now rumour is that a younger race from their captain's name have called it Italy.
12 There is a region Greeks name Hesperia, an ancient land, mighty in arms and foison of the clod; Oenotrian men dwell therein; now rumour is that a younger race have called it Italy after their captain's name.
13 But lord Aeneas, dismayed by the bitter mischance, revolved at heart this way and that his shifting weight of care, whether, forgetting fate, he should rest in Sicilian fields, or reach forth to the borders of Italy.
14 But when he may in no wise lay hands on us, nor can fathom the Ionian waves in pursuit, he raises a vast cry, at which the sea and all his waves shuddered, and the deep land of Italy was startled, and Aetna's vaulted caverns moaned.
15 Not such an one did his mother most beautiful vouch him to us, nor for this twice rescue him from Grecian arms; but he was to rule an Italy teeming with empire and loud with war, to transmit the line of Teucer's royal blood, and lay all the world beneath his law.
16 There was a city of ancient days that Tyrian settlers dwelt in, Carthage, over against Italy and the Tiber mouths afar; rich of store, and mighty in war's fierce pursuits; wherein, they say, alone beyond all other lands had Juno her seat, and held Samos itself less dear.
17 One youthful line goes rejoicingly behind little Priam, renewer of his grandsire's name, thy renowned seed, O Polites, and destined to people Italy; he rides a Thracian horse dappled with spots of white, showing white on his pacing pasterns and white on his high forehead.
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