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Browsing named entities in a specific section of P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams). Search the whole document.

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teous youth in glittering dress of war, Though of sad forehead and down-dropping eyes: “Say, father, who attends the prince? a son? Or of his greatness some remoter heir? How his friends praise him, and how matchless he! But mournful night Tests darkly o'er his brow.” With brimming eyes Anchises answer gave: “Ask not, 0 son, what heavy weight of woe Thy race shall bear, when fate shall just reveal This vision to the world, then yield no more. 0 gods above, too glorious did ye deem The seed of Rome, had this one gift been sure? The lamentation of a multitude Arises from the field of Mars, and strikes The city's heart. 0 Father Tiber, see What pomp of sorrow near the new-made tomb Beside thy fleeting stream! What Ilian youth Shall e'er his Latin kindred so advance In hope of glory? When shall the proud land Of Romulus of such a nursling boast? Ah, woe' is me! 0 loyal heart and true! 0 brave, right arm invincible! What foe Had 'scaped his onset in the shock of arms, Whether on foot he str<
France (France) (search for this): book 6, card 854
So did Anchises speak, then, after pause, Thus to their wondering ears his word prolonged: “Behold Marcellus, bright with glorious spoil, In lifted triumph through his warriors move! The Roman power in tumultuous days He shall establish; he rides forth to quell Afric and rebel Gaul; and to the shrine Of Romulus the third-won trophy brings.” Then spoke Aeneas, for he now could see A beauteous youth in glittering dress of war, Though of sad forehead and down-dropping eyes: “Say, father, who attends the prince? a son? Or of his greatness some remoter heir? How his friends praise him, and how matchless he! But mournful night Tests darkly o'er his brow.” With brimming eyes Anchises answer gave: “Ask not, 0 son, what heavy weight of woe Thy race shall bear, when fate shall just reveal This vision to the world, then yield no more. 0 gods above, too glorious did ye deem The seed of Rome, had this one gift been sure? The lamentation of a multitude Arises from the field of Mars, and strikes T