atque haec ipse suo tristi cum corde volutat, aspectans silvam immensam, et sic forte precatur: si nunc se nobis ille aureus arbore ramus ostendat nemore in tanto! quando omnia vere heu nimium de te vates, Misene, locuta est.
And alone he ponders with his own sad heart, gazing on the boundless forest, and, as it chanced, thus prays: O if now that golden bough would show itself to us on the tree in the deep wood! For all things truly'ah, too truly'did the seer say of you, Misenus.