Deep-drawn

"But who are ye, pray answer? on what quest / come ye? and whence and whither are ye bound?" / Her then AEneas, from his inmost breast / heaving a deep-drawn sigh, with labouring speech addressed: / "O Goddess, should I from the first unfold, / or could'st thou hear, the annals of our woe, / eve's star were shining, ere the tale were told."

To such vain quest he cared not to reply, / but, heaving from his breast a deep-drawn sigh, / "Fly, Goddess-born! and get thee from the fire! / The foes", he said, "are on the ramparts. Fly! / All Troy is tumbling from her topmost spire. / No more can Priam's land, nor Priam's self require."