Mariners of yore In worship held the venerable bough, When to Laurentum's guardian, safe on shore Their votive raiment and their gifts they bore.
That sacred tree, the lists of fight to clear, Troy's sons had lopped.

There, in the trunk's deep core, The Dardan javelin, urged with impulse sheer, Stuck fast; the stubborn root, retentive, grasped the spear.
CI.

Stooping, AEneas with his hands essayed To pluck the steel, and follow with the spear The foe his feet o'ertook not.

Sore dismayed Then Turnus cried, "O Faunus, heed and hear, And thou, kind Earth, hold fast the steel, if dear I held the plant, which Trojan hands profaned." He prayed, nor Heaven refused a kindly ear.
Long while AEneas at the tough root strained; Vain was his utmost strength; the biting shaft remained.
CII.

While thus he stooped and struggled, prompt to aid, Juturna, to Metiscus changed anew, Ran forth, and to her brother reached his blade.
Then Venus, wroth the daring Nymph to view, Came, and the javelin from the stem withdrew, Thus, armed afresh, each eager for his chance, The Daunian trusting to his falchion true, The Dardan towering with uplifted lance, High-hearted, face to face, the breathless chiefs advance.
CIII.