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

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Meantime, his father, now no father, stood, And wash'd his wounds by Tiber's yellow flood: Oppress'd with anguish, panting, and o'erspent, His fainting limbs against an oak he leant. A bough his brazen helmet did sustain; His heavier arms lay scatter'd on the plain: A chosen train of youth around him stand; His drooping head was rested on his hand: His grisly beard his pensive bosom sought; And all on Lausus ran his restless thought. Careful, concern'd his danger to prevent, He much enquir'd, and many a message sent To warn him from the field—alas! in vain! Behold, his mournful followers bear him slain! O'er his broad shield still gush'd the yawning wound, And drew a bloody trail along the ground. Far off he heard their cries, far off divin'd The dire event, with a foreboding mind. With dust he sprinkled first his hoary head; Then both his lifted hands to heav'n he spread; Last, the dear corpse embracing, thus he said: “What joys, alas! could this frail being give, That I have been so