Where now the power of Rome Hath made her stately structures mate the sky, Then poor and lowly stood Evander's home.
Thither their prows are turned, and to the town they come.
XIV.

That day, Arcadia's monarch, in a grove Before the town, a solemn feast had planned To Hercules and all the gods above.
His son, young Pallas, and a youthful band, And humble senators around him stand, Each offering incense, and the warm, fresh blood Still smokes upon the shrines, when, hard at hand, They see the tall ships, through the shadowy wood, Glide up with silent oars along the sacred flood.
XV.

Scared by the sudden sight, all quickly rise And quit the board.

But Pallas, bold of cheer, Bids them not break the worship.

Forth he flies To meet the strangers, as their ships appear, His right hand brandishing a glittering spear.
"Gallants," he hails them from a mound afar, "What drove you hither by strange ways to steer?
Say whither wending?
who and what ye are?
Your kin, and where your home?
And bring ye peace or war ?" XVI.