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Document | Max. Freq | Min. Freq | ||
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Pausanias, Description of Greece | 102 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Thucydides, The Peloponnesian War | 60 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Euripides, Rhesus (ed. E. P. Coleridge) | 32 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Euripides, Phoenissae (ed. E. P. Coleridge) | 32 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Apollodorus, Library and Epitome (ed. Sir James George Frazer) | 28 | 0 | Browse | Search |
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams) | 24 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Euripides, Heracleidae (ed. David Kovacs) | 22 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Euripides, Rhesus (ed. Gilbert Murray) | 20 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Euripides, Orestes (ed. E. P. Coleridge) | 16 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Homer, The Iliad (ed. Samuel Butler) | 14 | 0 | Browse | Search |
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Browsing named entities in P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams). You can also browse the collection for Argive (Greece) or search for Argive (Greece) in all documents.
Your search returned 12 results in 11 document sections:
Below th' horizon the Sicilian isle
just sank from view, as for the open sea
with heart of hope they sailed, and every ship
clove with its brazen beak the salt, white waves.
But Juno of her everlasting wound
knew no surcease, but from her heart of pain
thus darkly mused: “Must I, defeated, fail
of what I will, nor turn the Teucrian King
from Italy away? Can Fate oppose?
Had Pallas power to lay waste in flame
the Argive fleet and sink its mariners,
revenging but the sacrilege obscene
by Ajax wrought, Oileus' desperate son?
She, from the clouds, herself Jove's lightning threw,
scattered the ships, and ploughed the sea with storms.
Her foe, from his pierced breast out-breathing fire,
in whirlwind on a deadly rock she flung.
But I, who move among the gods a queen,
Jove's sister and his spouse, with one weak tribe
make war so long! Who now on Juno calls?
What suppliant gifts henceforth her altars crown?
Then, kneeling at the shrine of time-worn stone:
“Thou who at Thymbra on the Trojan shore
hast often blessed my prayer, O, give to me
a hearth and home, and to this war-worn band
defensive towers and offspring multiplied
in an abiding city; give to Troy
a second citadel, that shall survive
Achilles' wrath and all our Argive foe.
Whom shall we follow? Whither lies our way?
Where wilt thou grant us an abiding-place?
Send forth, O King, thy voice oracular,
and on our spirits move.
Here wondrous tidings met us, that the son
of Priam, Helenus, held kingly sway
o'er many Argive cities, having wed
the Queen of Pyrrhus, great Achilles' son,
and gained his throne; and that Andromache
once more was wife unto a kindred lord.
Amazement held me; all my bosom burned
to see the hero's face and hear this tale
of strange vicissitude. So up I climbed,
leaving the haven, fleet, and friendly shore.
That self-same hour outside the city walls,
within a grove where flowed the mimic stream
of a new Simois, Andromache,
with offerings to the dead, and gifts of woe,
poured forth libation, and invoked the shade
of Hector, at a tomb which her fond grief
had consecrated to perpetual tears,
though void; a mound of fair green turf it stood,
and near it rose twin altars to his name.
She saw me drawing near; our Trojan helms
met her bewildered eyes, and, terror-struck
at the portentous sight, she swooning fell
and lay cold, rigid, lifeless, till at last,
scarce finding voice, her lips address
Then came twin brethren, leaving Tibur's keep
(named from Tiburtus, brother of them twain)
Catillus and impetuous Coras, youth
of Argive seed, who foremost in the van
pressed ever where the foemen densest throng:
as when two centaurs, children of the cloud,
from mountain-tops descend in swift career,
the snows of Homole and Othrys leaving,
while crashing thickets in their pathway fall.
But Venus, sore disturbed,
vexed not unwisely her maternal breast,
fearing Laurentum's menace and wild stir
of obstinate revolt, and made her plea
to Vulcan in their nuptial bower of gold,
outbreathing in the music of her words
celestial love: “When warring Argive kings
brought ruin on Troy's sacred citadel
and ramparts soon to sink in hostile flames,
I asked not thee to help that hopeless woe,
nor craved thy craft and power. For, dearest lord,
I would not tax in vain shine arduous toil,
though much to Priam's children I was bound,
and oft to see Aeneas burdened sore
I could but weep. But now by will of Jove
he has found foothold in Rutulian lands.
Therefore I come at last with lowly suit
before a godhead I adore, and pray
for gift of arms,—a mother for her son.
Thou wert not unrelenting to the tears
of Nereus' daughter or Tithonus' bride.
Behold what tribes conspire, what cities strong
behind barred gates now make the falchion keen
to ruin and blot out both me and mine!”
So spake the <