He spake; as one, all murmur their assent.
For twice six days a solemn truce they plight, And Teucrians, now, with Latins, freely blent In peaceful fellowship, as friends unite, And roam the wooded hills.

Sharp axes smite The sounding ash; these with keen wedges cleave Tall oak and scented cedar; those with might The pine-tree, soaring to the stars, upheave, And wains, with groaning wheels, the giant elms receive.
XVIII.

Now Rumour, harbinger of woe so great, That told of Pallas victor, fills again Evander's town.

All hurry to the gate, With torches snatched, as ancient rites ordain.
A line of fire, that parts the dusky plain, The long road gleams before them, as they go To meet the mourners.

Soon the wailing train The Phrygians join.