"Lo, here, first omen offered to our eyes, Four snow-white steeds are grazing on the plain.
''Tis war thou bringest us,' Anchises cries, 'Strange land! For war the mettled steed they train, And war these threaten.

Yet in time again These beasts are wont in harness to obey, And bear the yoke, as guided by the rein.
Peace yet is hopeful.' So our vows we pay To Pallas, famed in arms, whose welcome cheered the way.
LXX.

"Veiled at her shrines in Phrygian hood we stand, And chief to Juno, mindful of the seer, Burnt-offerings pay, as pious rites demand.
This done, the sailyards to the wind we veer, And leave the Grecians and the land of fear.
Lo, there Tarentum's harbour and the town, If fame be true, of Hercules, and here Lacinium's queen and Caulon's towers are known, And Scylaceum's rocks, with shattered ships bestrown.
LXXI.

"Far off is seen, above the billowy mere, Trinacrian AEtna, and the distant roar Of ocean and the beaten rocks we hear, And the loud burst of breakers on the shore; High from the shallows leap the surges hoar, And surf and sand mix eddying.

'Behold Charybdis!' cries Anchises, ''tis the shore, The dreaded rocks that Helenus foretold.
Row, comrades, for dear life, and let the oars catch hold.' LXXII.