with sacred terror chill'd;
His hair erect, his lips with horror seal'd;
Aw'd by the present God, the high command,
He burns to fly, and leave the much lov'd land.
350 But how alas!--What words, what soothing art?
How meet the Queen, the sad design impart?
Now here, now there, his wav'ring soul inclin'd;
He bends on ev'ry side his anxious mind:
And thus at length his doubting councils end.
355 He bids Cleanthus and the chiefs attend,
The crews assemble and the ships prepare,
In silence hid the object of their care;
While Dido yet the faithless dream deludes,
And not one doubt upon her bliss intrudes:
360 That he, mean while, the fittest time would seek,
The fittest place the sad reverse to speak.

In secret they, the pleasing task pursue;
But soon--(what can escape a lovers view)
Soon Dido saw the change, her boding mind
365 Fancied, foresaw, or felt what they desgn'd.
Trembling, alive to all she sees or hears,
Suspecting ev'ry thing, she doubts, she fears,
While Fame that wounded feeling never spar'd,
The crews on board announced, the fleet prepar'd:
379 Till mad'ning flames within her bosom rise;
Distracted, furious, o'er the town she flies,
Wild as the Woodnymph when the frantic rite
And Bacchanalian shout, to rage excite
Madder and louder as the God invades,
375 She hears him bounding thro' the midnight shades.

Dido, herself, at length, AEneas sought;
Could you, false man, conceive the cruel thought,
To hide a crime so great--unseen to go,--
Silent, unnotic'd--Would you leave me so?
380 Has love no charm, has plighted faith no tie?
Nor Dido doom'd a cruel death to dye.
And for yourself--unfeeling!--when die skies
With tempest low'r--when wintry blasts arise,
You tempt the dang'rous ocean--to explore
385 A distant, strange, unhospitable shore.
Had Troy herself existed, who would brave
For Troy herself, the treach'rous wintry wave.
'Tis me you fly--Oh, by your sacred vow,
By these sad tears, (they're all that's left me now
390 To move your heart); by all our solemn ties,
By what I've suffer'd, by our shortliv'd joys,
If gratitude has giv'n me any right,
If any charm in me once gave delight,
Do not desert the wreck yourself have made,
395 Nor from my fal