Examen poeticum being the third part of miscellany poems containing variety of new translations of the ancient poets, together with many original copies by the most eminent hands.

AENEAS HIS Meeting with DIDO In the ELYZIAN FIELDS. Being a Translation of part of the sixth Book of Virgil's AEneids, beginning at Hic quoque durus A∣mor, &c.

By Mr. WOLSLEY.

HERE those, who by Love's Cruelty have dy'd, Thick Myrtle Groves, and dark Retire∣ments hide; Vex'd with old Griefs, and pale with long Despairs, Death cannot free them from their lasting Cares.

Among the Trees Pasiphae does appear, Phedra, and Procris, and Evadne, here, Sad Eriphyle makes unpity'd moan, Pointing to Wounds, that still accuse her Son. For her lost Honour, Coeneus mourns in vain, By Death transform'd to her own Sex again. And Laodamia, with the numerous throng Of hapless Lovers, weeping goes along. Among the rest sorsaken Dido, round The Desart wanders, with a gaping Wound, Whom soon as near the Trojan Hero drew, And that upbraiding injur'd Ghost through glim∣mering Shadows knew. (As he who sees by the faint gloomy Light A rising Moon half hid in Clouds and Night) Straight into Tears his penitent Pity broke, And to her, in the kindest terms of Love unfeign'd he spoke.

The killing News that did my flight pursue I find, alas, (unhappy Queen) is true! Your mark still fresh upon your Breast I see, That bleeding Wound you gave your self for Me. Ah, 'tis too true! I was th' unlucky Cause Of your hard fate! curs'd wretched Man! I was. By all the Gods, who rule above, I vow, And by that Faith (if any be) which Sacred is below, Compell'd, and threaten'd, sad, and discontent, From your lov'd Shore, and dear Embrace, I went: That awful Pow'r, whose high Will to obey, Even now thro' these Infernal Shades and dismal paths I stray; Thro' endless Night, and unknown Desart Lands Force me, delaying, by his dread Commands.

Nor cou'd I think the loss of me wou'd touch Your Heart so deep!—You valu'd me too much! Oh stay, and take not from my Eyes, unkind, A Face for ever present to my mind! Whom do you fly? see him you held so dear! His just defence and last farewel do not refuse to hear.

With such soft words th' afflicted Hero strove To sooth her Anger, and revive her Love. While rising Sighs oft stopt him as he spoke, And falling tears the tender accents broke.

The Queen, who still resented his last flight, Now turns her Eyes from his unwelcome sight, And on the ground, with sad remembrance strook, She fix'd a sullen and dejected look.

Deaf to his Vows, regardless of his Tears, Hard as a Rock her once kind Heart appears, And his vain Courtship unconcern'd she hears. Frowning at length, averse to all he said, Into the thickest of the Wood she fled; Where her first Love attracts her just desires, Shares all her Griefs, and burns in equal Fires.

Wounded afresh with that reproachful sight, Afar the Prince pursues her scornful flight, And long lamenting her unhappy Fate, With fruitless Sorrow pities her too late.