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Reveres Apollo's vocal caves, and owns
The guiding godhead, and his future sons.
O'er all his bosom secret transports reign,

And a glad horror shoots through ev'ry vein ; 580
To heav'n he lifts his hands, erects his sight,
And thus invokes the silent queen of Night.
'Goddess of shades! beneath whose gloomy
reign

Yon spangled arch glows with the starry train ;
You who the cares of heav'n and carth allay,585
Till nature, quicken'd by th' inspiring ray,
Wakes to new vigor with the rising day;
Oh! thou who freest me from my doubtful state,
Long lost and wilder'd in the maze of Fate,
Be present still, oh Goddess! in our aid;
Proceed, and firm those omens thou hast made!
We to thy name our annual rites will pay,
And on thy altars sacrifices lay;

590

The sable flock shall fall beneath the stroke,
And fill thy temples with a grateful smoke. 595
Hail faithful Tripos! hail ye dark abodes

Of awful Phœbus: I confess the gods!'

Thus, seiz'd with sacred fear, the monarch pray'd;
Then to his inner court the guests convey'd,
Where yet thin fumes from dying sparks
arise,

And dust
yet white upon each altar lies,
The relics of a former sacrifice.

600

The king once more the solemn rites requires,

And bids renew the feast, and wake the fires.

His train obey, while all the courts around 605
With noisy care, and various tumult sound.
Embroider'd purple clothes the golden beds;
This slave, the floor, and that, the table spreads;
A third dispels the darkness of the night,

615

And fills depending lamps with beams of light; 610
Here loaves in canisters are pil'd on high,
And there in flames the slaughter'd victims fly.
Sublime in regal state Adrastus shone,
Stretch'd on rich carpets on his iv'ry throne;
A lofty couch receives each princely guest;
Around, at awful distance, wait the rest.
And now the king, his royal feast to grace,
Acestis calls, the guardian of his race,
Who first their youth in arts of virtue train'd,
And their ripe years in modest grace

tain'd;

main

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625

Then softly whisper'd in her faithful ear,
And bade his daughters at the rites appear.
When, from the close apartments of the night,
The royal nymphs approach'd divinely bright;
Such was Diana's, such Minerva's face,
Nor shine their beauties with superior grace,
But that in these a milder charm endears,
And less of terror in their looks appears.
As on the heroes first they cast their eyes,
O'er their fair cheeks the glowing blushes rise; 630
Their downcast looks a decent shame confest,

Then on their father's rev'rend features rest.

The banquet done, the monarch gives the sign To fill the goblet high with sparkling wine, Which Danaus us'd in sacred rites of old,

635

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With sculpture grac'd, and rough with rising gold.
Here to the clouds victorious Perseus flies,
Medusa seems to move her languid eyes,
And, ev'n in gold, turns paler as she dies.
There from the chaceJove's tow'ring eagle bears, 640
On golden wings, the Phrygian to the stars;
Still as he rises in th' ethereal height,
His native mountains lessen to his sight;
While all his sad companions upwards gaze,
Fix'd on the glorious scene in wild amaze ;
And the swift hounds, affrighted as he flies,
Run to the shade and bark against the skies.
This golden bowl with gen'rous juice was crown'd,
The first libation sprinkled on the ground,
By turns on cach celestial pow'r they call;
With Phoebus' name resounds the vaulted hall.
The courtly train, the strangers, and the rest,
Crown'd with chaste laurel, and with garlands drest,
While with rich gums the fuming altars blaze,
Salute the god in num'rous hymns of praise. 655
Then thus the king: Perhaps, my noble

guests!

650

These honor'd altars, and these annual feasts,
To bright Apollo's awful name design'd,
Unknown, with wonder may perplex your mind.
Great was the cause: our old solemnities
From no blind zeal or fond tradition rise;

660

But, sav'd from death, our Argives yearly pay
These grateful honors to the god of day.

When, by a thousand darts, the Python slain,
With orbs unroll'd, lay cov'ring all the plain, 665
(Transfix'd as o'er Castalia's streams he hung,
And suck'd new poisons with his triple tongue)
To Argos' realms the victor god resorts,
And enters old Crotopos' humble courts.
This rural prince one only daughter bless'd, 670
That all the charms of blooming youth possess'd;
Fair was her face, and spotless was her mind,
Where filial love with virgin sweetness join'd;
Happy and happy still she might have prov'd,
Were she less beautiful, or less belov'd ! 675
But Phoebus lov'd, and, on the flow'ry side
Of Nemea's stream, the yielding fair enjoy'd.
Now ere ten moons their orb with light adorn,
Th' illustrious offspring of the god was born;
The nymph, her father's anger to evade,
Retires from Argos to the sylvan shade;
To woods and wilds the pleasing burden bears,
And trusts her infant to a shepherd's cares.

680

How mean a fate, unhappy child! is thine? Ah how unworthy those of race divine! 685 On flow'ry herbs, in some green covert, laid, His bed the ground, his canopy the shade, He mixes with the bleating lambs his cries, While the rude swain his rural music trics, To call soft slumbers on his infant eyes. 690

Yet ev'n in those obscure abodes to live

Was more, alas! than cruel fate would give ;
For on the grassy verdure as he lay,

And breath'd the freshness of the early day,
Devouring dogs the helpless infant tore,

695

Fed on his trembling limbs, and lapp'd the gore.
Th' astonish'd mother, when the rumor came,
Forgets her father, and neglects her fame;
With loud complaints she fills the yielding air,
And beats her breast, and rends her flowing

hair;

700

Then, wild with anguish, to her sire she flies,
Demands the sentence, and, contented, dies.
But touch'd with sorrow for the deed too late,

The raging god prepares ť avenge her fate.

He sends a monster, horrible and fell,
Begot by Furies in the depths of hell.
The pest a virgin's face and bosom bears;

705

High on her crown a rising snake appears,
Guards her black front, and hisses in her hairs;
About the realm she walks her dreadful round, 710
When night, with sable wings, o'erspreads the
ground,

Devours young babes before their parents' eyes,
And feeds and thrives on public miseries.

715

But gen'rous rage the bold Chorabus warms, Chorobus! fam'd for virtue as for arms; Some few like him, inspir'd with martial flame, Thought a short life well lost for endless fame;

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