With happier auspices, O love.
Erst didst thou hover o’er this fruitful plain,
Hence caught the gods thy thrilling pain;
By thee embellished, Troy’s resplendent towers
Reared their proud summits blest by thundering Jove,
For our allies were the celestial powers.
But I no longer will betray
Heaven’s ruler to reproach and biting shame.
The white-winged morn, blest source of day,
Who cheers the nations with her kindling flame,
Beheld these walls demolished, and th’ abode
Of that dear prince who shared her bed
In fragments o’er the wasted champaign spread:
While swift along the starry road,
Her golden car his country’s guardian bore:
False was each amorous god, and Ilion is no more.