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John Conington, Commentary on Vergil's Aeneid, Volume 2 68 0 Browse Search
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams) 54 0 Browse Search
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden) 52 0 Browse Search
Titus Livius (Livy), History of Rome, books 1-10 (ed. Rev. Canon Roberts) 26 0 Browse Search
C. Suetonius Tranquillus, The Lives of the Caesars (ed. Alexander Thomson) 18 0 Browse Search
Titus Livius (Livy), History of Rome, books 1-10 (ed. Rev. Canon Roberts) 16 0 Browse Search
C. Suetonius Tranquillus, The Lives of the Caesars (ed. Alexander Thomson) 14 0 Browse Search
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Brookes More) 12 0 Browse Search
Q. Horatius Flaccus (Horace), Odes (ed. John Conington) 8 0 Browse Search
Q. Horatius Flaccus (Horace), The Works of Horace (ed. C. Smart, Theodore Alois Buckley) 8 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 Tiber (Italy) or search for Tiber (Italy) in all documents.

Your search returned 26 results in 26 document sections:

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P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 1, line 12 (search)
Against the Tiber's mouth, but far away, An ancient town was seated on the sea; A Tyrian colony; the people made Stout for the war, and studious of their trade: Carthage the name; belov'd by Juno more Than her own Argos, or the Samian shore. Here stood her chariot; here, if Heav'n were kind, The seat of awful empire she design'd. Yet she had heard an ancient rumor fly, (Long cited by the people of the sky,) That times to come should see the Trojan race Her Carthage ruin, and her tow'rs deface; Nor thus confin'd, the yoke of sov'reign sway Should on the necks of all the nations lay. She ponder'd this, and fear'd it was in fate; Nor could forget the war she wag'd of late For conqu'ring Greece against the Trojan state. Besides, long causes working in her mind, And secret seeds of envy, lay behind; Deep graven in her heart the doom remain'd Of partial Paris, and her form disdain'd; The grace bestow'd on ravish'd Ganymed, Electra's glories, and her injur'd bed. Each was a cause alone; and
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 2, line 752 (search)
; like bristles rose my stiffen'd hair. Then thus the ghost began to soothe my grief ‘Nor tears, nor cries, can give the dead relief. Desist, my much-lov'd lord, t' indulge your pain; You bear no more than what the gods ordain. My fates permit me not from hence to fly; Nor he, the great controller of the sky. Long wand'ring ways for you the pow'rs decree; On land hard labors, and a length of sea. Then, after many painful years are past, On Latium's happy shore you shall be cast, Where gentle Tiber from his bed beholds The flow'ry meadows, and the feeding folds. There end your toils; and there your fates provide A quiet kingdom, and a royal bride: There fortune shall the Trojan line restore, And you for lost Creusa weep no more. Fear not that I shall watch, with servile shame, Th' imperious looks of some proud Grecian dame; Or, stooping to the victor's lust, disgrace My goddess mother, or my royal race. And now, farewell! The parent of the gods Restrains my fleeting soul in her abodes:
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 3, line 472 (search)
me; And ah! had Heav'n so pleas'd, his years had been the same.’ With tears I took my last adieu, and said: ‘Your fortune, happy pair, already made, Leaves you no farther wish. My diff'rent state, Avoiding one, incurs another fate. To you a quiet seat the gods allow: You have no shores to search, no seas to plow, Nor fields of flying Italy to chase: (Deluding visions, and a vain embrace!) You see another Simois, and enjoy The labor of your hands, another Troy, With better auspice than her ancient tow'rs, And less obnoxious to the Grecian pow'rs. If e'er the gods, whom I with vows adore, Conduct my steps to Tiber's happy shore; If ever I ascend the Latian throne, And build a city I may call my own; As both of us our birth from Troy derive, So let our kindred lines in concord live, And both in acts of equal friendship strive. 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 descen
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 5, line 72 (search)
amidst the train, By thousands follow'd thro' the flow'ry plain, To great Anchises' tomb; which when he found, He pour'd to Bacchus, on the hallow'd ground, Two bowls of sparkling wine, of milk two more, And two (from offer'd bulls) of purple gore, With roses then the sepulcher he strow'd And thus his father's ghost bespoke aloud: “Hail, O ye holy manes! hail again, Paternal ashes, now review'd in vain! The gods permitted not, that you, with me, Should reach the promis'd shores of Italy, Or Tiber's flood, what flood soe'er it be.” Scarce had he finish'd, when, with speckled pride, A serpent from the tomb began to glide; His hugy bulk on sev'n high volumes roll'd; Blue was his breadth of back, but streak'd with scaly gold: Thus riding on his curls, he seem'd to pass A rolling fire along, and singe the grass. More various colors thro' his body run, Than Iris when her bow imbibes the sun. Betwixt the rising altars, and around, The sacred monster shot along the ground; With harmless play
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 6, line 77 (search)
ore and far superior force he press'd; Commands his entrance, and, without control, Usurps her organs and inspires her soul. Now, with a furious blast, the hundred doors Ope of themselves; a rushing whirlwind roars Within the cave, and Sibyl's voice restores: “Escap'd the dangers of the wat'ry reign, Yet more and greater ills by land remain. The coast, so long desir'd (nor doubt th' event), Thy troops shall reach, but, having reach'd, repent. Wars, horrid wars, I view—a field of blood, And Tiber rolling with a purple flood. Simois nor Xanthus shall be wanting there: A new Achilles shall in arms appear, And he, too, goddess-born. Fierce Juno's hate, Added to hostile force, shall urge thy fate. To what strange nations shalt not thou resort, Driv'n to solicit aid at ev'ry court! The cause the same which Ilium once oppress'd; A foreign mistress, and a foreign guest. But thou, secure of soul, unbent with woes, The more thy fortune frowns, the more oppose. The dawnings of thy safety shall
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 6, line 854 (search)
ov'ring mists around his brows are spread, And night, with sable shades, involves his head.” “Seek not to know,” the ghost replied with tears, “The sorrows of thy sons in future years. This youth (the blissful vision of a day) Shall just be shown on earth, and snatch'd away. The gods too high had rais'd the Roman state, Were but their gifts as permanent as great. What groans of men shall fill the Martian field! How fierce a blaze his flaming pile shall yield! What fun'ral pomp shall floating Tiber see, When, rising from his bed, he views the sad solemnity! No youth shall equal hopes of glory give, No youth afford so great a cause to grieve; The Trojan honor, and the Roman boast, Admir'd when living, and ador'd when lost! Mirror of ancient faith in early youth! Undaunted worth, inviolable truth! No foe, unpunish'd, in the fighting field Shall dare thee, foot to foot, with sword and shield; Much less in arms oppose thy matchless force, When thy sharp spurs shall urge thy foaming horse.
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 7, line 25 (search)
Now, when the rosy morn began to rise, And wav'd her saffron streamer thro' the skies; When Thetis blush'd in purple not her own, And from her face the breathing winds were blown, A sudden silence sate upon the sea, And sweeping oars, with struggling, urge their way. The Trojan, from the main, beheld a wood, Which thick with shades and a brown horror stood: Betwixt the trees the Tiber took his course, With whirlpools dimpled; and with downward force, That drove the sand along, he took his way, And roll'd his yellow billows to the sea. About him, and above, and round the wood, The birds that haunt the borders of his flood, That bath'd within, or basked upon his side, To tuneful songs their narrow throats applied. The captain gives command; the joyful train Glide thro' the gloomy shade, and leave the main.
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 7, line 148 (search)
When next the rosy morn disclos'd the day, The scouts to sev'ral parts divide their way, To learn the natives' names, their towns explore, The coasts and trendings of the crooked shore: Here Tiber flows, and here Numicus stands; Here warlike Latins hold the happy lands. The pious chief, who sought by peaceful ways To found his empire, and his town to raise, A hundred youths from all his train selects, And to the Latian court their course directs, (The spacious palace where their prince resides,) And all their heads with wreaths of olive hides. They go commission'd to require a peace, And carry presents to procure access. Thus while they speed their pace, the prince designs His new-elected seat, and draws the lines. The Trojans round the place a rampire cast, And palisades about the trenches plac'd. Meantime the train, proceeding on their way, From far the town and lofty tow'rs survey; At length approach the walls. Without the gate, They see the boys and Latian youth debate The martial
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 7, line 286 (search)
fires and swords and seas they forc'd their way. Then vanquish'd Juno must in vain contend, Her rage disarm'd, her empire at an end. Breathless and tir'd, is all my fury spent? Or does my glutted spleen at length relent? As if 't were little from their town to chase, I thro' the seas pursued their exil'd race; Ingag'd the heav'ns, oppos'd the stormy main; But billows roar'd, and tempests rag'd in vain. What have my Scyllas and my Syrtes done, When these they overpass, and those they shun? On Tiber's shores they land, secure of fate, Triumphant o'er the storms and Juno's hate. Mars could in mutual blood the Centaurs bathe, And Jove himself gave way to Cynthia's wrath, Who sent the tusky boar to Calydon; (What great offense had either people done?) But I, the consort of the Thunderer, Have wag'd a long and unsuccessful war, With various arts and arms in vain have toil'd, And by a mortal man at length am foil'd. If native pow'r prevail not, shall I doubt To seek for needful succor from w
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. John Dryden), Book 7, line 406 (search)
seem'd, and thus began, Appearing in a dream, to rouse the careless man: “Shall Turnus then such endless toil sustain In fighting fields, and conquer towns in vain? Win, for a Trojan head to wear the prize, Usurp thy crown, enjoy thy victories? The bride and scepter which thy blood has bought, The king transfers; and foreign heirs are sought. Go now, deluded man, and seek again New toils, new dangers, on the dusty plain. Repel the Tuscan foes; their city seize; Protect the Latians in luxurious ease. This dream all-pow'rful Juno sends; I bear Her mighty mandates, and her words you hear. Haste; arm your Ardeans; issue to the plain; With fate to friend, assault the Trojan train: Their thoughtless chiefs, their painted ships, that lie In Tiber's mouth, with fire and sword destroy. The Latian king, unless he shall submit, Own his old promise, and his new forgeT'mdash;/L> Let him, in arms, the pow'r of Turnus prove, And learn to fear whom he disdains to love. For such is Heav'n's command
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