"Some hang before the viewless winds to bleach; Some purge in fire or flood the deep decay And taint of wickedness.

We suffer each Our ghostly penance; thence, the few who may, Seek the bright meadows of Elysian day, Till long, long years, when our allotted time Hath run its orbit, wear the stains away, And leave the aetherial sense, and spark sublime, Cleansed from the dross of earth, and cankering rust of crime.
XCIX.

"These, when a thousand rolling years are o'er, Called by the God, to Lethe's waves repair; There, reft of memory, to yearn once more For mortal bodies and the upper air." So spake Anchises, and the priestess fair Leads, with his son, the murmuring shades among, Where thickest crowd the multitude, and there They mount a hillock, and survey the throng, And scan the pale procession, as it winds along.
C.

"Come, now, and hearken to the Dardan's fame, What noble grandsons shall Italia grace, Proud spirits, heirs of our illustrious name, And learn the fates and future of thy race.
See yon fair youth, now leaning--mark his face-- Upon a pointless spear, by lot decreed To stand the nearest to the light in place, He first shall rise, of mixt Italian breed, Silvius, an Alban name, the youngest of thy seed.
CI.

"Him, latest offspring of thy days' decline, Thy spouse Lavinia in the woods shall rear, The kingly parent of a kingly line, The lords of Alba Longa.