1 All cry out that the image must be drawn to its home and supplication made to her deity.
2 Had the lords of heaven willed to prolong life for me, they should have preserved this my home.
3 Nor have I any hope more of seeing my old home nor my sweet children and the father whom I desire.
4 All are of one mind, to leave the guilty land, and abandoning a polluted home, to let the gales waft our fleets.
5 Through chequered fortunes, through many perilous ways, we steer for Latium, where destiny points us a quiet home.
6 One alone kept the household and its august home, a daughter now ripe for a husband and of full years for marriage.
7 For in sleep the phantom of Cassandra the soothsayer seemed to give me blazing brands: Here seek your Troy, she said; here is your home.
8 Tame to her hand, and familiar to his master's table, he would wander the woods, and, however late the night, return home to the door he knew.
9 Thine eyes shall see the city Lavinium, their promised home; thou shalt exalt to the starry heaven thy noble Aeneas; nor is my decree reversed.
10 Such thoughts inly revolving in her kindled bosom, the goddess reaches Aeolia, the home of storm-clouds, the land laden with furious southern gales.
11 Such accents uttered the daughter of Saturn; and the other raises her rustling snaky wings and darts away from the high upper air to Cocytus her home.
12 Now we are led hither, to the very dust and ashes of our father, not as I deem without divine purpose and influence, and borne home into the friendly haven.
13 A land of vast plains lies apart, the home of Mavors, in Thracian tillage, and sometime under warrior Lycurgus' reign; friendly of old to Troy, and their gods in alliance while our fortune lasted.
14 This is he, the wanderer from a foreign home, foreshewn of fate for his son, and called to a realm of equal dominion, whose race should be excellent in valour and their might overbear all the world.
15 So let thine eyes trace it home, and thine hand pluck it duly when found; for lightly and unreluctant will it follow if thine is fate's summons; else will no strength of thine avail to conquer it nor hard steel to cut it away.
16 And now, when I have reached the courts of my ancestral dwelling, our home of old, my father, whom it was my first desire to carry high into the hills, and whom first I sought, declines, now Troy is rooted out, to prolong his life through the pains of exile.
17 One might descry them shifting their quarters and pouring out of all the town: even as ants, mindful of winter, plunder a great heap of wheat and store it in their house; a black column advances on the plain as they carry home their spoil on a narrow track through the grass.
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