P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid
Theodore C. Williams, Ed.

“O dearer to thy sister than her life,”
Anna replied, “wouldst thou in sorrow's weed
waste thy long youth alone, nor ever know
sweet babes at thine own breast, nor gifts of love?
Will dust and ashes, or a buried ghost
reck what we do? 'T is true thy grieving heart
was cold to earlier wooers, Libya's now,
and long ago in Tyre. Iarbas knew
thy scorn, and many a prince and captain bred
in Afric's land of glory. Why resist
a love that makes thee glad? Hast thou no care
what alien lands are these where thou dost reign?
Here are Gaetulia's cities and her tribes
unconquered ever; on thy borders rove
Numidia's uncurbed cavalry; here too
lies Syrtis' cruel shore, and regions wide
of thirsty desert, menaced everywhere
by the wild hordes of Barca. Shall I tell
of Tyre's hostilities, the threats and rage
of our own brother? Friendly gods, I bow,
wafted the Teucrian ships, with Juno's aid,
to these our shores. O sister, what a throne,
and what imperial city shall be thine,
if thus espoused! With Trojan arms allied
how far may not our Punic fame extend
in deeds of power? Call therefore on the gods
to favor thee; and, after omens fair,
give queenly welcome, and contrive excuse
to make him tarry, while yon wintry seas
are loud beneath Orion's stormful star,
and on his battered ships the season frowns.”