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P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams) 332 0 Browse Search
John Conington, Commentary on Vergil's Aeneid, Volume 1 256 0 Browse Search
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden) 210 0 Browse Search
Apollodorus, Library and Epitome (ed. Sir James George Frazer) 188 0 Browse Search
Pausanias, Description of Greece 178 0 Browse Search
Homer, The Iliad (ed. Samuel Butler) 164 0 Browse Search
Homer, The Odyssey (ed. Samuel Butler, Based on public domain edition, revised by Timothy Power and Gregory Nagy.) 112 0 Browse Search
Euripides, The Trojan Women (ed. E. P. Coleridge) 84 0 Browse Search
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Brookes More) 82 0 Browse Search
Apollodorus, Library and Epitome (ed. Sir James George Frazer) 80 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden). You can also browse the collection for Troy (Turkey) or search for Troy (Turkey) in all documents.

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P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 34 (search)
frothy furrows in the main; When, lab'ring still with endless discontent, The Queen of Heav'n did thus her fury vent: “Then am I vanquish'd? must I yield?” said she, “And must the Trojans reign in Italy? So Fate will have it, and Jove adds his force; Nor can my pow'r divert their happy course. Could angry Pallas, with revengeful spleen, The Grecian navy burn, and drown the men? She, for the fault of one offending foe, The bolts of Jove himself presum'd to throw: With whirlwinds from beneath she toss'd the ship, And bare expos'd the bosom of the deep; Then, as an eagle gripes the trembling game, The wretch, yet hissing with her father's flame, She strongly seiz'd, and with a burning wound Transfix'd, and naked, on a rock she bound. But I, who walk in awful state above, The majesty of heav'n, the sister wife of Jove, For length of years my fruitless force employ Against the thin remains of ruin'd Troy! What nations now to Juno's pow'r will pray, Or off'rings on my slighted altars
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 223 (search)
lowly look, Not free from tears, her heav'nly sire bespoke: “O King of Gods and Men! whose awful hand Disperses thunder on the seas and land, Disposing all with absolute command; How could my pious son thy pow'r incense? Or what, alas! is vanish'd Troy's offense? Our hope of Italy not only lost, On various seas by various tempests toss'd, But shut from ev'ry shore, and barr'd from ev'ry coast. You promis'd once, a progeny divine Of Romans, rising from the Trojan line, In after times should hold the world in awe, And to the land and ocean give the law. How is your doom revers'd, which eas'd my care When Troy was ruin'd in that cruel war? Then fates to fates I could oppose; but now, When Fortune still pursues her former blow, What can I hope? What worse can still succeed? What end of labors has your will decreed? Antenor, from the midst of Grecian hosts, Could pass secure, and pierce th' Illyrian coasts, Where, rolling down the steep, Timavus raves And thro' nine channels disembogues h
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 272 (search)
all gain, Of martial tow'rs the founder shall become, The people Romans call, the city Rome. To them no bounds of empire I assign, Nor term of years to their immortal line. Ev'n haughty Juno, who, with endless broils, Earth, seas, and heav'n, and Jove himself turmoils; At length aton'd, her friendly pow'r shall join, To cherish and advance the Trojan line. The subject world shall Rome's dominion own, And, prostrate, shall adore the nation of the gown. An age is ripening in revolving fate When Troy shall overturn the Grecian state, And sweet revenge her conqu'ring sons shall call, To crush the people that conspir'd her fall. Then Caesar from the Julian stock shall rise, Whose empire ocean, and whose fame the skies Alone shall bound; whom, fraught with eastern spoils, Our heav'n, the just reward of human toils, Securely shall repay with rites divine; And incense shall ascend before his sacred shrine. Then dire debate and impious war shall cease, And the stern age be soften'd into peace:
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 372 (search)
“Could you with patience hear, or I relate, O nymph, the tedious annals of our fate! Thro' such a train of woes if I should run, The day would sooner than the tale be done! From ancient Troy, by force expell'd, we came— If you by chance have heard the Trojan name. On various seas by various tempests toss'd, At length we landed on your Libyan coast. The good Aeneas am I call'd—a name, While Fortune favor'd, not unknown to fame. My household gods, companions of my woes, With pious care I rescued from our foes. To fruitful Italy my course was bent; And from the King of Heav'n is my descent. With twice ten sail I cross'd the Phrygian sea; Fate and my mother goddess led my way. Scarce sev'n, the thin remainders of my fleet, From storms preserv'd, within your harbor meet. Myself distress'd, an exile, and unknown, Debarr'd from Europe, and from Asia thrown, In Libyan desarts wander thus alone.” His tender parent could no longer bear; But, interposing, sought to soothe hi
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 441 (search)
n shrine; But more the goddess made the place divine. On brazen steps the marble threshold rose, And brazen plates the cedar beams inclose: The rafters are with brazen cov'rings crown'd; The lofty doors on brazen hinges sound. What first Aeneas this place beheld, Reviv'd his courage, and his fear expell'd. For while, expecting there the queen, he rais'd His wond'ring eyes, and round the temple gaz'd, Admir'd the fortune of the rising town, The striving artists, and their arts' renown; He saw, in order painted on the wall, Whatever did unhappy Troy befall: The wars that fame around the world had blown, All to the life, and ev'ry leader known. There Agamemnon, Priam here, he spies, And fierce Achilles, who both kings defies. He stopp'd, and weeping said: “O friend! ev'n here The monuments of Trojan woes appear! Our known disasters fill ev'n foreign lands: See there, where old unhappy Priam stands! Ev'n the mute walls relate the warrior's fame, And Trojan griefs the Tyrians' pity claim.
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 464 (search)
find), Devouring what he saw so well design'd, And with an empty picture fed his mind: For there he saw the fainting Grecians yield, And here the trembling Trojans quit the field, Pursued by fierce Achilles thro' the plain, On his high chariot driving o'er the slain. The tents of Rhesus next his grief renew, By their white sails betray'd to nightly view; And wakeful Diomede, whose cruel sword The sentries slew, nor spar'd their slumb'ring lord, Then took the fiery steeds, ere yet the food Of Troy they taste, or drink the Xanthian flood. Elsewhere he saw where Troilus defied Achilles, and unequal combat tried; Then, where the boy disarm'd, with loosen'd reins, Was by his horses hurried o'er the plains, Hung by the neck and hair, and dragg'd around: The hostile spear, yet sticking in his wound, With tracks of blood inscrib'd the dusty ground. Meantime the Trojan dames, oppress'd with woe, To Pallas' fane in long procession go, In hopes to reconcile their heav'nly foe. They weep, they be
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 579 (search)
ke polish'd ivory, beauteous to behold, Or Parian marble, when enchas'd in gold: Thus radiant from the circling cloud he broke, And thus with manly modesty he spoke: “He whom you seek am I; by tempests toss'd, And sav'd from shipwreck on your Libyan coast; Presenting, gracious queen, before your throne, A prince that owes his life to you alone. Fair majesty, the refuge and redress Of those whom fate pursues, and wants oppress, You, who your pious offices employ To save the relics of abandon'd Troy; Receive the shipwreck'd on your friendly shore, With hospitable rites relieve the poor; Associate in your town a wand'ring train, And strangers in your palace entertain: What thanks can wretched fugitives return, Who, scatter'd thro' the world, in exile mourn? The gods, if gods to goodness are inclin'd; If acts of mercy touch their heav'nly mind, And, more than all the gods, your gen'rous heart. Conscious of worth, requite its own desert! In you this age is happy, and this earth, And parents
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 643 (search)
The good Aeneas, paternal care Iulus' absence could no longer bear, Dispatch'd Achates to the ships in haste, To give a glad relation of the past, And, fraught with precious gifts, to bring the boy, Snatch'd from the ruins of unhappy Troy: A robe of tissue, stiff with golden wire; An upper vest, once Helen's rich attire, From Argos by the fam'd adultress brought, With golden flow'rs and winding foliage wrought, Her mother Leda's present, when she came To ruin Troy and set the world on flame; Theobe of tissue, stiff with golden wire; An upper vest, once Helen's rich attire, From Argos by the fam'd adultress brought, With golden flow'rs and winding foliage wrought, Her mother Leda's present, when she came To ruin Troy and set the world on flame; The scepter Priam's eldest daughter bore, Her orient necklace, and the crown she wore Of double texture, glorious to behold, One order set with gems, and one with gold. Instructed thus, the wise Achates goes, And in his diligence his duty shows.
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 2, line 1 (search)
All were attentive to the godlike man, When from his lofty couch he thus began: Great queen, what you command me to relate Renews the sad remembrance of our fate: An empire from its old foundations rent, And ev'ry woe the Trojans underwent; A peopled city made a desart place; All that I saw, and part of which I was: Not ev'n the hardest of our foes could hear, Nor stern Ulysses tell without a tear. And now the latter watch of wasting night, And setting stars, to kindly rest invite; But, since you take such int'rest in our woe, And Troy's disastrous end desire to know, I will restrain my tears, and briefly tell What in our last and fatal night befell.
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 2, line 21 (search)
In sight of Troy lies Tenedos, an isle (While Fortune did on Priam's empire smile) Renown'd for wealth; but, since, a faithless bay, Where ships expos'd to wind and weather lay. There was their fleet conceal'd. We thought, for Greece Their sails were hoisted, and our fears release. The Trojans, coop'd within their walls so long, Unbar their gates, and issue in a throng, Like swarming bees, and with delight survey The camp deserted, where the Grecians lay: The quarters of the sev'ral chiefs they show'd; Here Phoenix, here Achilles, made abode; Here join'd the battles; there the navy rode. Part on the pile their wond'ring eyes employ: The pile by Pallas rais'd to ruin Troy. Thymoetes first ('t is doubtful whether hir'd, Or so the Trojan destiny requir'd) Mov'd that the ramparts might be broken down, To lodge the monster fabric in the town. But Capys, and the rest of sounder mind, The fatal present to the flames designed, Or to the wat'ry deep; at least to bore The hollow sides, and hidde
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