182Dawn meanwhile had raised her kindly light for wretched mortals, bringing back work and toil: now father Aeneas, now Tarchon set up pyres on the curving shore. 185Hither each man brought the bodies of his own in the manner of his fathers, and as the black fires are lit beneath, the high sky is buried in darkness and gloom. 188Three times, girt in gleaming armour, they ran around the burning pyres, three times on horseback they circled the mournful fire of the dead and raised wailing cries from their mouths; 191the earth is sprinkled with tears, the armour is sprinkled too: the shout of men and the blare of trumpets go up to the sky.
193Here some throw onto the fire spoils torn from the slain Latins, helmets and handsome swords, bridles and glowing wheels; 195others familiar gifts, the shields of the dead themselves and their luckless weapons. 197Around them many bodies of oxen are slaughtered to Death, and over the flame they cut the throats of bristly swine and of flocks seized from all the fields. 199Then along the whole shore they watch their comrades burning and guard the half-burnt pyres, and cannot be torn away, until dewy night turns the sky round, studded with blazing stars.