He climbed a ridge that showed him every man
In the long line. He knew each face approaching.
"Come, hear your destiny, and the future glory
Of the stock of Dardanus, all the descendants
That we will have from the Italian race
Great souls who will be born into our family.
That young man leaning on a headless spear
Will take the next turn in the airy light:
Your posthumous son Silvius (a name
From Alba), first of Troy's Italian bloodline.
Lavinia will raise him in the forest,
And he will be a king and father kings:
Our family that will reign at Alba Longa.
By him stands Procas, glory of Troy's race,
Then Capys, Numitor, and Aeneas Silvius,
Your namesake, irreproachable, high-hearted—
If ever he succeeds to Alba's kingship.
What fine young men! You see the strength in them.
Oak leaves of civic honor shade their temples.
They'll found Nomentum, Gabii, Fidena.
The fortress of Collatia on the mountains,
Pometii, Castrum Inui, Bola, Cora—
The famous names of places nameless now.
Romulus, child of Mars, and through his mother
A Trojan, will become her father's ally.
You see the twin crests? They're a special emblem
The father of the gods already gives him.
Under the omens this man saw, renowned Rome
Will rule the world and raise her heart to heaven—
Blessed in her sons, with seven citadels
In one wall: like the tower-crowned Great Mother
Driving her chariot through Phrygian cities,
Holding in blissful arms her hundred grandsons
From gods—all gods themselves, who live in heaven.
Now turn your eyes here, see this clan—your Romans:
Caesar, and all of Iulus' offspring, destined
To make their way to heaven's splendid heights.
Here is the man so often promised you,
Augustus Caesar, a god's son, and bringer
Of a new age of gold to Saturn's old realm
Of Latium. He will take our rule past India,
Past Garamantia, past the solar pathway
That marks the year, where Atlas hefts the sky
And turns the high vault set with burning stars.