And now the Latian vessel he ascends; Beneath the weighty god the vessel bends: The Latins on the strand great Jove appease, Their cables loose, and plough the yielding seas: The high-rear’d serpent from the stern displays His gorgeous form, and the blue deep surveys; The ship is wafted on with gentle gales, And o’er the calm Ionian smoothly sails; On the sixth morn the Italian coast they gain, And touch Lacinia, graced with Juno’s fane; Now fair Calabria to the sight is lost, And all the cities on her fruitful coast; They pass at length the rough Sicilian shore, The Brutian soil, rich with metallic ore, The famous isles, where Aeolus was king, And Paestus blooming with eternal spring: Minerva’s cape they leave, and Capreae’s isle, Campania, on whose hills the vineyards smile, The city, which Alcides’ spoils adorn, Naples, for soft delight and pleasure born; Fair Stabiae, with Cumean sibyls’ seats, And Baiae’s tepid baths, and green retreats; Linternum next they reach, where balmy gums Distil from mastic trees, and spread perfumes;