Now from the portals of the rosy sky
The morn arising, earth born vapours fly;
When good Latinus, finding that 'twas vain
To try the fortunes of the warlike plain,
(For his pale legions shudder'd at the word,
And almost wish'd to call Eneas, lord,)
He much revolv'd of former breach of vows,
The truce infring'd, and long-disputed spouse.
At length a solemn embassy is sent,
A thousand men select for that intent;
Commission'd these the virtuous chief t'implore,
To waste Laurentum with his arms no more;
To quiet hostile rage amongst the bands,
And visit friendly old Latinus' lands.