Classic Poem

While all with silence and attention wait,
Thus speaks Æneas from the bed of State.
Madam, when you command us to review
Our Fate, you make our old wounds bleed anew,
And all those sorrows to my sence restore,
Whereof none saw so much, none suffer'd more,
Not the most cruel of Our conqu'ering Foes
So unconcern'dly can relate our woes,
As not to lend a tear, Then how can I
Repress the horror of my thoughts, which flie
The sad remembrance. Now th'expiring night
And the declining Stars to rest invite;
Yet since 'tis your command, what you, so well
Are pleas'd to hear, I cannot grieve to tell.