Thus rais’d aloft, and then descending down, It enters o’er our heads, and threats the town.
And widely spread ambrosial scents around: In length of train descends her sweeping gown; And, by her graceful walk, the Queen of Love is known.
His worth, his actions, and majestic air, A man descended from the gods declare.
These rites and customs to the rest commend, That to your pious race they may descend.
But we, descended from your sacred line, Entitled to your heav’n and rites divine, Are banish’d earth; and, for the wrath of one, Remov’d from Latium and the promis’d throne.
Down thro’ the crannies of the living walls The crystal streams descend in murm’ring falls: No haulsers need to bind the vessels here, Nor bearded anchors; for no storms they fear.
A human face, And virgin bosom, hides her tail’s disgrace: Her parts obscene below the waves descend, With dogs inclos’d, and in a dolphin end.
Full on the promis’d land at length we bore, With joy descending on the Cretan shore.
The rapid rains, descending from the hills, To rolling torrents raise the creeping rills.
His pond’rous whistle from his neck descends; His woolly care their pensive lord attends: This only solace his hard fortune sends.
Once more her haughty soul the tyrant bends: To pray’rs and mean submissions she descends.
Thus, at the length, your passage shall be free, And you shall safe descend on Italy.
As they, with joy returning, clap their wings, And ride the circuit of the skies in rings; Not otherwise your ships, and ev’ry friend, Already hold the port, or with swift sails descend.
The beach is cover’d o’er With Trojan bands, that blacken all the shore: On ev’ry side are seen, descending down, Thick swarms of soldiers, loaden from the town.
Our fortunes, good or bad, shall be the same: The double Troy shall differ but in name; That what we now begin may never end, But long to late posterity descend.’
Here, pois’d upon his wings, the god descends: Then, rested thus, he from the tow’ring height Plung’d downward, with precipitated flight, Lights on the seas, and skims along the flood.
Meantime Acestes, from a lofty stand, Beheld the fleet descending on the land; And, not unmindful of his ancient race, Down from the cliff he ran with eager pace, And held the hero in a strict embrace.
Not fiery coursers, in a chariot race, Invade the field with half so swift a pace; Not the fierce driver with more fury lends The sounding lash, and, ere the stroke descends, Low to the wheels his pliant body bends.
Thus having said, he turn’d with pious haste, And joyful his expecting friends embrac’d: With his right hand Ilioneus was grac’d, Serestus with his left; then to his breast Cloanthus and the noble Gyas press’d; And so by turns descended to the rest.
Soon on the Libyan shore descends the god, Performs his message, and displays his rod: The surly murmurs of the people cease; And, as the fates requir’d, they give the peace: The queen herself suspends the rigid laws, The Trojans pities, and protects their cause.
With hands on high, Entellus threats the foe; But Dares watch’d the motion from below, And slipp’d aside, and shunn’d the long descending blow.
Sternly he spoke, and then confronts the bull; And, on his ample forehead aiming full, The deadly stroke, descending, pierc’d the skull.
Scarce had he said, when, full before his sight, Two doves, descending from their airy flight, Secure upon the grassy plain alight.
Meantime the sun descended from the skies, And the bright evening star began to rise.
Swiftly fair Iris down her arch descends, And, undiscern’d, her fatal voyage ends.
From Alpine heights the father first descends; His daughter’s husband in the plain attends: His daughter’s husband arms his eastern friends.
A foreign son upon thy shore descends, Whose martial fame from pole to pole extends.
By turns their arms advance, in equal time; By turns their hands descend, and hammers chime.
Upon our shores descend.
There Ganymede is wrought with living art, Chasing thro’ Ida’s groves the trembling hart: Breathless he seems, yet eager to pursue; When from aloft descends, in open view, The bird of Jove, and, sousing on his prey, With crooked talons bears the boy away.
But first let yawning earth a passage rend, And let me thro’ the dark abyss descend; First let avenging Jove, with flames from high, Drive down this body to the nether sky, Condemn’d with ghosts in endless night to lie, Before I break the plighted faith I gave!
The god began our line, who rules above; And, as our race, our king descends from Jove: And hither are we come, by his command, To crave admission in your happy land.
She saw the Trojan and his joyful train Descend upon the shore, desert the main, Design a town, and, with unhop’d success, Th’ embassadors return with promis’d peace.
The steeds of Night had travel’d half the sky, The drowsy rowers on their benches lie, When the soft God of Sleep, with easy flight, Descends, and draws behind a trail of light.
Down to the keels, and upward to the sails, The fire descends, or mounts, but still prevails; Nor buckets pour’d, nor strength of human hand, Can the victorious element withstand.
Like cloud-born Centaurs, from the mountain’s height With rapid course descending to the fight; They rush along; the rattling woods give way; The branches bend before their sweepy sway.
Scarce had he said, when southern storms arise: From pole to pole the forky lightning flies; Loud rattling shakes the mountains and the plain; Heav’n bellies downward, and descends in rain.
Let others better mold the running mass Of metals, and inform the breathing brass, And soften into flesh a marble face; Plead better at the bar; describe the skies, And when the stars descend, and when they rise.
Tyrrheus, the foster father of the beast, Then clench’d a hatchet in his horny fist, But held his hand from the descending stroke, And left his wedge within the cloven oak, To whet their courage and their rage provoke.
Thus while the pious prince his fate bewails, Fierce Boreas drove against his flying sails, And rent the sheets; the raging billows rise, And mount the tossing vessels to the skies: Nor can the shiv’ring oars sustain the blow; The galley gives her side, and turns her prow; While those astern, descending down the steep, Thro’ gaping waves behold the boiling deep.
He lays on load with either hand, amain, And headlong drives the Trojan o’er the plain; Nor stops, nor stays; nor rest nor breath allows; But storms of strokes descend about his brows, A rattling tempest, and a hail of blows.
There Charon stands, who rules the dreary coastA sordid god: down from his hoary chin A length of beard descends, uncomb’d, unclean; His eyes, like hollow furnaces on fire; A girdle, foul with grease, binds his obscene attire.
Now from the sight of land our galleys move, With only seas around and skies above; When o’er our heads descends a burst of rain, And night with sable clouds involves the main; The ruffling winds the foamy billows raise; The scatter’d fleet is forc’d to sev’ral ways; The face of heav’n is ravish’d from our eyes, And in redoubled peals the roaring thunder flies.
Then rising, on his utmost stretch he stood, And aim’d from high: the full descending blow Cleaves the broad front and beardless cheeks in two.
Your navy once were we, From Ida’s height descending to the sea; Till Turnus, as at anchor fix’d we stood, Presum’d to violate our holy wood.
The beamy spear, descending from above, His cuirass pierc’d, and thro’ his body drove.
Swift she descends, alighting on the plain, Where the fierce foes a dubious fight maintain.
The faithful nymph descends from high With rapid flight, and cuts the sounding sky: Black clouds and stormy winds around her body fly.
He lies revers’d; the victor king descends, And strikes so justly where his helmet ends, He lops the head.
On this side, life and lucky chance ascends; Loaded with death, that other scale descends.
So roams the nightly wolf about the fold: Wet with descending show’rs, and stiff with cold, He howls for hunger, and he grins for pain, (His gnashing teeth are exercis’d in vain,) And, impotent of anger, finds no way In his distended paws to grasp the prey.
Besides, the spoils of foes in battle slain, When he descended on the Latian plain; Arms, trappings, horses, by the hearse are led In long array— th’ achievements of the dead.
Thus, when a flood of fire by wind is borne, Crackling it rolls, and mows the standing corn; Or deluges, descending on the plains, Sweep o’er the yellow year, destroy the pains Of lab’ring oxen and the peasant’s gains; Unroot the forest oaks, and bear away Flocks, folds, and trees, and undistinguish’d prey: The shepherd climbs the cliff, and sees from far The wasteful ravage of the wat’ry war.
Thro’ the black forest and the ferny brake, Unknowingly secure, their way they take; From the rough mountains to the plain descend, And there, in order drawn, their line extend.
King Turnus wonder’d at the fight renew’d, Till, looking back, the Trojan fleet he view’d, The seas with swelling canvas cover’d o’er, And the swift ships descending on the shore.
His faithful fauchion sits upon his side; Nor casque, nor crest, his manly features hide: But, bare to view, amid surrounding friends, With godlike grace, he from the tow’r descends.
They launch their spears; then hand to hand they meet; The trembling soil resounds beneath their feet: Their bucklers clash; thick blows descend from high, And flakes of fire from their hard helmets fly.
Then Butes and Orsilochus she slew, The bulkiest bodies of the Trojan crew; But Butes breast to breast: the spear descends Above the gorget, where his helmet ends, And o’er the shield which his left side defends.
Nor Hercules more lands or labors knew, Not tho’ the brazen-footed hind he slew, Freed Erymanthus from the foaming boar, And dipp’d his arrows in Lernaean gore; Nor Bacchus, turning from his Indian war, By tigers drawn triumphant in his car, From Nisus’ top descending on the plains, With curling vines around his purple reins.
For now the Fates prepar’d their sharpen’d shears; And lifted high the flaming sword appears, Which, full descending with a frightful sway, Thro’ shield and corslet forc’d th’ impetuous way, And buried deep in his fair bosom lay.
If Orpheus, arm’d with his enchanting lyre, The ruthless king with pity could inspire, And from the shades below redeem his wife; If Pollux, off’ring his alternate life, Could free his brother, and can daily go By turns aloft, by turns descend belowWhy name I Theseus, or his greater friend, Who trod the downward path, and upward could ascend?
The top is level, an offensive seat Of war; and from the war a safe retreat: For, on the right and left, is room to press The foes at hand, or from afar distress; To drive ’cause headlong downward, and to pour On their descending backs a stony show’r.
You know in what deluding joys we pass’d The night that was by Heav’n decreed our last: For, when the fatal horse, descending down, Pregnant with arms, o’erwhelm’d th’ unhappy town She feign’d nocturnal orgies; left my bed, And, mix’d with Trojan dames, the dances led Then, waving high her torch, the signal made, Which rous’d the Grecians from their ambuscade.
The combat thickens, like the storm that flies From westward, when the show’ry Kids arise; Or patt’ring hail comes pouring on the main, When Jupiter descends in harden’d rain, Or bellowing clouds burst with a stormy sound, And with an armed winter strew the ground.
Lagus, the first he met, with fate to foe, Had heav’d a stone of mighty weight, to throw: Stooping, the spear descended on his chine, Just where the bone distinguished either loin: It stuck so fast, so deeply buried lay, That scarce the victor forc’d the steel away.
Volscens he seeks; on him alone he bends: Borne back and bor’d by his surrounding friends, Onward he press’d, and kept him still in sight; Then whirl’d aloft his sword with all his might: Th’ unerring steel descended while he spoke, Piered his wide mouth, and thro’ his weazon broke.
…talk the flying hours they pass, The sun had finish’d more than half his race: And they, perhaps, in words and tears had spent The little time of stay which Heav’n had lent; But thus the Sibyl chides their long delay: "Night rushes down, and headlong drives the day: ’T is here, in different paths, the way divides; The right to Pluto’s golden palace guides; The left to that unhappy region tends, Which to the depth of Tartarus descends; The seat of night profound, and punish’d fiends."
"At length her lord descends upon the plain, In pomp, attended with a num’rous train; Receives his friends, and to the city leads, And tears of joy amidst his welcome sheds.
In groves we live, and lie on mossy beds, By crystal streams, that murmur thro’ the meads: But pass yon easy hill, and thence descend; The path conducts you to your journey’s end."
Now, and from hence, in ev’ry future age, When rage excites your arms, and strength supplies the rage Rise some avenger of our Libyan blood, With fire and sword pursue the perjur’d brood; Our arms, our seas, our shores, oppos’d to theirs; And the same hate descend on all our heirs!"
’T was dead of night; when to his slumb’ring eyes His father’s shade descended from the skies, And thus he spoke: "O more than vital breath, Lov’d while I liv’d, and dear ev’n after death; O son, in various toils and troubles toss’d, The King of Heav’n employs my careful ghost On his commands: the god, who sav’d from fire Your flaming fleet, and heard your just desire.
Then, with a graceful mien, Lights from her lofty steed the warrior queen: Her squadron imitates, and each descends; Whose common suit Camilla thus commends: "If sense of honor, if a soul secure Of inborn worth, that can all tests endure, Can promise aught, or on itself rely Greatly to dare, to conquer or to die; Then, I alone, sustain’d by these, will meet The Tyrrhene troops, and promise their defeat.
To heav’n aloft on ridgy waves we ride, Then down to hell descend, when they divide; And thrice our galleys knock’d the stony ground, And thrice the hollow rocks return’d the sound, And thrice we saw the stars, that stood with dews around.
Now Juno to the Stygian sky descends, Solicits hell for aid, and arms the fiends.