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• If e'er, by rebel deities opprest,
• My aid reliev'd thee, grant this one request.
« Since to short life my hapless fon was born,
• Do thou with fame the scanty space adorn.
• Punish the king of men, whose lawless sway
• Hath sham'd the youth, and seiz'd his destin'd prey.
« Awhile let Troy prevail, that Greece may grieve,
• And doubled honours to my offspring give.'

She said. The god vouchsaf'd not to reply.
(A deep suspence fat in his thoughtful eye) :
Once more around his knees. the goddess clung,
And to soft accents form’d her artful tongue :
« Oh! speak. Or grant me, or deny my prayer.
• Fear not to speak, what I am doom'd to bear;
* That I may know, if thou my prayer deny,
6. The moft despis’d of all the gods am I.'

With a deep figh the Thundering Power replies:
6 To what a height will Juno's anger rise.!
• Still doth her voice before the gods upbraid
My partial hand, that gives the Trojans aid.
. I grant thy suit. But, hence ! depart unseen,

And shun the fight of heaven's suspicious queen.
6 Believe my nod, the great, the certain fign,
• When Jove propitious hears the powers divine ;
· The sign that ratifies my high command,
. That thus I will : and what I will shall stand."

This said, his kingly brow the fire inclin'd;
The large black curls fell awful from behind,
Thick shadowing the stern forehead of the god:
Olympus trembled at th' almighty nod.


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The goddess smil'd : and, with a sudden leap, From the high mountain plung'd into the deep.

But Jove repair'd to his celestial towers :
And, as he rose, up-rose th' immortal powers.
In ranks, on either side, th' assembly caft,
Bow'd down, and did obeisance as he pass’d,

To him enthron'd (for whispering she had seen:
Close at his knees the filver-footed queen,
Daughter of him, who, low beneath the tides,
Aged and hoary in the deep resides)
Big with invectives, Juno filence broke,
And thus, opprobrious, her resentments spoke:

Falfe Jove ! what goddess whispering did I see? "O fond of counsels, kill conceal'd from me! To me, neglected, thou wilt ne'er impart • One single thought of thy close-cover'd heart.!

To whom the Sire of gods and men reply'd ;. « Strive not to find, what I decree to hide.

Laborious were the search, and vain the strife, • Vain ev'n for thee, my sister and my wife. • The thoughts and counsels, proper to declare, • Nor god nor mortal shall before thee share : • But, what my secret wisdom thall ordain, « Think not to reach, for know the thought were vaina

• Dread Saturn's son, why so fevere?" replies The Goddess of the large majestic eyes. Thy own dark thoughts at pleasure hide, or show;

Ne'er have I ask'd, nor now aspire to know. « Nor yet my fears are vain, nor came unseen To thy high throne the filver-footed queen,

• Daughtes

Daughter of him, who low beneath the tides
Aged and hoary in the deep resides.
Thy nod assures me she was not deny'd :
And Greece must perish for a madman's pride.'

To whom the god, whose hand the tempest forms, Drives clouds on clouds,andblackens heaven with storms, Thus wrathful answer'd : 'Doft thou still complain ? • Perplex'd for ever, and perplex'd in vain ! • Should'st thou disclose the dark event to come; • How wilt thou stop th' irrevocable doom ! • This ferves the more to sharpen my disdain; 6 And woes foreseen but lengthen out thy pain. 6-Be filent then. Dispute not my command ; 6. Nor tempt the force of this superior hand : « Left all the gods, around thee leagu'd, engage • In vain to shield thee from my kindled rage.'

Mute and abalh'd she fai without reply, And downward turn’d her large majestic eye, Nor further durst th' offended fire provoke : The gods around him trembled, as he spoke. When Vulcan, for his mother fore distrest, Turn'd orator, and thus his speech address’d;

• Hard is our fate, if men of mortal line & Stir


« If things on earth disturb the blest abodes,
• And mar th' ambrosial banquet of the gods !
• Then let my mother once be ruld by me,

Though much more wise than I pretend to be : 6 Let me advise her silent to obey, & And due submission to our father pay.


powers divine,

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« Nor force again his gloomy rage to rise,

Ill-tim’d, and damp the revels of the skies.
• For should he toss her from thi Olympian hilly

Who could resist the mighty monarch's will ?
Then thou to love the Thunderer reconcile,
And tempt him kindly on us all to smile.'

He said : and in his tottering hands up-bore
A double goblet, fill'd, and foaming o’er.

« Sit down, dear mother, with a heart content, • Nor urge a more disgraceful punishment, « Which if great Jove inflict, poor I, dismay'd, • Must stand aloof, nor dare to give thee aid. • Great Jove shall reign for ever, uncontrol'd: · Remember, when I took thy part of old,

Caught by the beel he swung me round on high, • And headlong hurl?d me from th’ ethereal sky:

From morn to noon I fell, from noon to night; 6 Till pitch'd on Lemnos, a most piteous sight, • The Sintians hardly could my breath recall, • Giddy and gasping with the dreadful fall.

She sinild: ayd, smiling, her white arm display'd
To reach the bowl her aukward fon convey'd.
From right to left the generous bowl he crown'd,
And dealt the rofy nectar fairly round.
The gods laugh'd out, unweary'd, as they spy'd
The busy skinker hop from side to side.

Thus, feasting to the full, they pass’d away,
In blissful banquets, all the live-long day.
Nor wanted melody. With heavenly art
The Muses sung ; each Muse perform'd her part,


Alternate warbling; while the golden lyre,
Touch'd by Apollo, led the vocal choir.
The sun at length declin’d, when every guest
Sought his bright palace, and withdrew to rest :
Each had his palace on th' Olympian hill,
A master-piece of Vulcan’s matchless skill.
Ev’n he, the god, who heaven's great scepter sways,
And frowns amid the lightning's dreadful blaze,
His bed of state ascending, lay compos’d;

a sweet refreshing llumber clos'd:
And at his side, all glorious to behold,
Was Juno lodg’d in her alcove of gold.



F, dumb too long, the drooping Muse hath stay'd,


Blame not her filence, Warwick, but bemoan,
And judge, oh judge, my bosom by your own.
What mourner ever felt poetic fires !
Slow comes the verse that real woe inspires :
Grief unaffected suits but ill with art,
Or flowing numbers with a bleeding heart.

Can I forget the dismal night that gave
My soul's best part for ever to the grave !
How filent did his old companions tread,
By midnight lamps, the mansions of the dead,
Through breathing statues, tlien unheeded things,
Through rows of warriors, and through walks of kings!


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