Her loosened raiment, streaming to her feet,
And by her walk the Goddess shone complete.
"Ah, mother mine!" he chides her, as she flies,
"Art thou, then, also cruel? Wherefore cheat
Thy son so oft with images and lies?
Why may I not clasp hands, and talk without disguise?"

LV. Thus he, reproaching. Towards the town they fare
In haste. But Venus round them on the way
Wrapt a thick mist, a mantle of dark air,
That none should see them, none should touch nor stay,
Nor, urging idle questions, breed delay.
Then back, rejoicing, through the liquid air
To Paphos and her home she flies away,
Where, steaming with Sabaean incense rare,
An hundred altars breathe with garlands fresh and fair.

LVI. They by the path their forward steps pursued,
And climbed a hill, whose fronting summit frowned
Steep o'er the town. Amazed, AEneas viewed
Tall structures rise, where whilom huts were found,
The streets, the gates, the bustle and the sound.
Hotly the Tyrians are at work. These draw
The bastions' lines, roll stones and trench the ground;
Or build the citadel; those clothe with awe
The Senate; there they choose the judges for the law.

LVII. These delve the port; the broad foundations there
They lay for theatres of ample space,
And columns, hewn from marble rocks, prepare,