The Aeneid Of Virgil: Book 12 Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCCBDEEFFGGHHIJKKLL LMMNOCCHHGGPPQQLLRRS STTQQBBUVGGWXONNYYOO EEZYA2A2B2B2B2ONHHC2 C2MMD2D2E2E2F2F2G2G2 H2H2I2I2J2K2QQL2OG2G 2QM2N2N2N2N2N2O2O2O2 IIN2N2E2E2NOBBP2P2N2 N2OON2N2FFQ2BL2ON2N2 N2N2N2R2R2N2N2IIBN2O ON2N2HHS2S2N2N2T2T2E 2E2N2N2BBN2N2U2V2W2| WHEN Turnus saw the Latins leave the field | A |
| Their armies broken and their courage quell d | B |
| Himself become the mark of public spite | C |
| His honor question d for the promis d fight | C |
| The more he was with vulgar hate oppress d | B |
| The more his fury boil d within his breast | D |
| He rous d his vigor for the last debate | E |
| And rais d his haughty soul to meet his fate | E |
| As when the swains the Libyan lion chase | F |
| He makes a sour retreat nor mends his pace | F |
| But if the pointed jav lin pierce his side | G |
| The lordly beast returns with double pride | G |
| He wrenches out the steel he roars for pain | H |
| His sides he lashes and erects his mane | H |
| So Turnus fares his eyeballs flash with fire | I |
| Thro his wide nostrils clouds of smoke expire | J |
| Trembling with rage around the court he ran | K |
| At length approach d the king and thus began | K |
| No more excuses or delays I stand | L |
| In arms prepar d to combat hand to hand | L |
| This base deserter of his native land | L |
| The Trojan by his word is bound to take | M |
| The same conditions which himself did make | M |
| Renew the truce the solemn rites prepare | N |
| And to my single virtue trust the war | O |
| The Latians unconcern d shall see the fight | C |
| This arm unaided shall assert your right | C |
| Then if my prostrate body press the plain | H |
| To him the crown and beauteous bride remain | H |
| To whom the king sedately thus replied | G |
| Brave youth the more your valor has been tried | G |
| The more becomes it us with due respect | P |
| To weigh the chance of war which you neglect | P |
| You want not wealth or a successive throne | Q |
| Or cities which your arms have made your own | Q |
| My towns and treasures are at your command | L |
| And stor d with blooming beauties is my land | L |
| Laurentum more than one Lavinia sees | R |
| Unmarried fair of noble families | R |
| Now let me speak and you with patience hear | S |
| Things which perhaps may grate a lover s ear | S |
| But sound advice proceeding from a heart | T |
| Sincerely yours and free from fraudful art | T |
| The gods by signs have manifestly shown | Q |
| No prince Italian born should heir my throne | Q |
| Oft have our augurs in prediction skill d | B |
| And oft our priests a foreign son reveal d | B |
| Yet won by worth that cannot be withstood | U |
| Brib d by my kindness to my kindred blood | V |
| Urg d by my wife who would not be denied | G |
| I promis d my Lavinia for your bride | G |
| Her from her plighted lord by force I took | W |
| All ties of treaties and of honor broke | X |
| On your account I wag d an impious war | O |
| With what success t is needless to declare | N |
| I and my subjects feel and you have had your share | N |
| Twice vanquish d while in bloody fields we strive | Y |
| Scarce in our walls we keep our hopes alive | Y |
| The rolling flood runs warm with human gore | O |
| The bones of Latians blanch the neighb ring shore | O |
| Why put I not an end to this debate | E |
| Still unresolv d and still a slave to fate | E |
| If Turnus death a lasting peace can give | Z |
| Why should I not procure it whilst you live | Y |
| Should I to doubtful arms your youth betray | A2 |
| What would my kinsmen the Rutulians say | A2 |
| And should you fall in fight which Heav n defend | B2 |
| How curse the cause which hasten d to his end | B2 |
| The daughter s lover and the father s friend | B2 |
| Weigh in your mind the various chance of war | O |
| Pity your parent s age and ease his care | N |
| Such balmy words he pour d but all in vain | H |
| The proffer d med cine but provok d the pain | H |
| The wrathful youth disdaining the relief | C2 |
| With intermitting sobs thus vents his grief | C2 |
| The care O best of fathers which you take | M |
| For my concerns at my desire forsake | M |
| Permit me not to languish out my days | D2 |
| But make the best exchange of life for praise | D2 |
| This arm this lance can well dispute the prize | E2 |
| And the blood follows where the weapon flies | E2 |
| His goddess mother is not near to shroud | F2 |
| The flying coward with an empty cloud | F2 |
| But now the queen who fear d for Turnus life | G2 |
| And loath d the hard conditions of the strife | G2 |
| Held him by force and dying in his death | H2 |
| In these sad accents gave her sorrow breath | H2 |
| O Turnus I adjure thee by these tears | I2 |
| And whate er price Amata s honor bears | I2 |
| Within thy breast since thou art all my hope | J2 |
| My sickly mind s repose my sinking age s prop | K2 |
| Since on the safety of thy life alone | Q |
| Depends Latinus and the Latian throne | Q |
| Refuse me not this one this only pray r | L2 |
| To waive the combat and pursue the war | O |
| Whatever chance attends this fatal strife | G2 |
| Think it includes in thine Amata s life | G2 |
| I cannot live a slave or see my throne | Q |
| Usurp d by strangers or a Trojan son | M2 |
| At this a flood of tears Lavinia shed | N2 |
| A crimson blush her beauteous face o erspread | N2 |
| Varying her cheeks by turns with white and red | N2 |
| The driving colors never at a stay | N2 |
| Run here and there and flush and fade away | N2 |
| Delightful change Thus Indian iv ry shows | O2 |
| Which with the bord ring paint of purple glows | O2 |
| Or lilies damask d by the neighb ring rose | O2 |
| The lover gaz d and burning with desire | I |
| The more he look d the more he fed the fire | I |
| Revenge and jealous rage and secret spite | N2 |
| Roll in his breast and rouse him to the fight | N2 |
| Then fixing on the queen his ardent eyes | E2 |
| Firm to his first intent he thus replies | E2 |
| O mother do not by your tears prepare | N |
| Such boding omens and prejudge the war | O |
| Resolv d on fight I am no longer free | B |
| To shun my death if Heav n my death decree | B |
| Then turning to the herald thus pursues | P2 |
| Go greet the Trojan with ungrateful news | P2 |
| Denounce from me that when to morrow s light | N2 |
| Shall gild the heav ns he need not urge the fight | N2 |
| The Trojan and Rutulian troops no more | O |
| Shall dye with mutual blood the Latian shore | O |
| Our single swords the quarrel shall decide | N2 |
| And to the victor be the beauteous bride | N2 |
| He said and striding on with speedy pace | F |
| He sought his coursers of the Thracian race | F |
| At his approach they toss their heads on high | Q2 |
| And proudly neighing promise victory | B |
| The sires of these Orythia sent from far | L2 |
| To grace Pilumnus when he went to war | O |
| The drifts of Thracian snows were scarce so white | N2 |
| Nor northern winds in fleetness match d their flight | N2 |
| Officious grooms stand ready by his side | N2 |
| And some with combs their flowing manes divide | N2 |
| And others stroke their chests and gently soothe their pride | N2 |
| He sheath d his limbs in arms a temper d mass | R2 |
| Of golden metal those and mountain brass | R2 |
| Then to his head his glitt ring helm he tied | N2 |
| And girt his faithful fauchion to his side | N2 |
| In his tn an forge the God of Fire | I |
| That fauchion labor d for the hero s sire | I |
| Immortal keenness on the blade bestow d | B |
| And plung d it hissing in the Stygian flood | N2 |
| Propp d on a pillar which the ceiling bore | O |
| Was plac d the lance Auruncan Actor wore | O |
| Which with such force he brandish d in his hand | N2 |
| The tough ash trembled like an osier wand | N2 |
| Then cried O pond rous spoil of Actor slain | H |
| And never yet by Turnus toss d in vain | H |
| Fail not this day thy wonted force but go | S2 |
| Sent by this hand to pierce the Trojan foe | S2 |
| Give me to tear his corslet from his breast | N2 |
| And from that eunuch head to rend the crest | N2 |
| Dragg d in the dust his frizzled hair to soil | T2 |
| Hot from the vexing ir n and smear d with fragrant oil | T2 |
| Thus while he raves from his wide nostrils flies | E2 |
| A fiery steam and sparkles from his eyes | E2 |
| So fares the bull in his lov d female s sight | N2 |
| Proudly he bellows and preludes the fight | N2 |
| He tries his goring horns against a tree | B |
| And meditates his absent enemy | B |
| He pushes at the winds he digs the strand | N2 |
| With his black hoofs and spurns the yellow sand | N2 |
| Nor less the Trojan in his Lemnian arms | U2 |
| To future fight his manly courage warms | V2 |
| He whets his fury and with joy prep | W2 |
Publius Vergilius Maro
(1)
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About The Aeneid Of Virgil: Book 12
The Aeneid Of Virgil: Book 12 is a poem by Publius Vergilius Maro. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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