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Begs leave through black Avernus to retire;
And view the much-lov'd manes of his fire.
Straight the divining virgin rais'd her eyes ;
And, foaming with a holy rage, replies :
O thou, whose worth thy wondrous works proclaim;
The flames, thy piety; the world, thy fame;
Though great be thy request, yet shalt thou see
Th’ Elysian fields, th' infernal monarchy ;
Thy parene's shade : this arm thy Iteps shall guide :
To fuppliant virtue nothing is denyd.
She spoke, and pointing to the golden bough,
Which in th’ Avernian grove refulgent grew,
Seize that, the bids: he liftens to the maid;
Then views the mournful mansions of the dead;
The shade of great Anchises, and the place
By Fates determin’d to the Trojan race.
As back to upper light the hero came,
He thus falutes the visionary dame :
0, whether some propitious deity,
Or lov'd by those bright rulers of the sky!
With grateful incense I shall stile you one,
And deem no godhead greater than your own.
'Twas you restur'd me from the realms of night,
And gave me to behold the fields of light:
To feel the breezes of congenial air ;
And nature's blef benevolence to share.
THE STORY OF THE SIBYL.
I am no deity, reply'd the Dame,
But mortal; and religious rites disclaiin.
Yet had avoided Death's tyrannic sway,
Had I consented to the God of Day.
With promises he sought my love, and said,
Have all you wish, my fair Cumæan maid.
> paus'd ; then, pointing to a heap of sand,
For every grain, to live a year, demand.
But ah! unmindful of th' effect of time,
Forgot to covenant for youth, and prime.
The smiling bloom, I boasted once, is gone,
And feeble age with lagging limbs creeps on.
Seren centuries have I liv’d; three more fulfil
The period of the years to finish still.
Who 'll think, that Phæbus, drest in youth divine,
Had once believ'd his lustre less than mine?
This wither'd frame (fo Fates have will’d) shall waste
To nothing, but prophetic words, at laft.
The Sibyl mounting now from nether skies,
And the fam'd Ilian prince, at Cuma rise.
He fail'd, and near the place to anchor came,
Since call'd Cajeta, from his nurse's name.
Here did the luckless Macareus, a friend
To wise Ulysses, his long labours end.
Here, wandering, Achæmenides he meets,
And sudden thus his late associate greers.
Whence came you here, Ofriend, and whither bound?
All gave you loft on far Cyclopean ground;
A Greck 's at last aboard a Trojan found.
ADVENTURES OF ACHÆMENIDES.
Thus Achæmenides. With thanks I name
Æneas, and his piety proclaim.
I 'scap'd the Cyclops through the Hero's aid,
Elfe in his maw my mangled limbs had laid.
When first your navy under fail he found,
He rav'd, till Ætna labour'd with the sound.
Raging, he stalk'd along the mountain's fide,
And vented clouds of breath at every stride.
His staff a mountain afh; and in the clouds
Oft', as he walks, his grisly front he fhrowds.
Eyeless he grop'd about with vengeful
And justled promontories, as he pass’d.
Then heav'd a rock’s high summit to the main,
· And bellow'd, like some bursting hurricane :
Oh! could I seize Ulysses in his flight, How unlamented were my loss of sight! These jaws should piece-meal tear each panting vein, Grind every crackling bone, and pound his brain. As thus he rav’d, my joints with horror shook ; The tide of blood my chilling heart forsook. I saw him once disgorge huge morsels, raw, Of wretches undigested in his maw. From the pale breathless trunks whole limbs he tore, His beard all clotted with o’erflowing gore. My anxious hours I pass’d in caves ; my Was foreit fruits, and wildings of the wood.
At length a sail I wafted, and aboard
My fortune found an hospitable lord.
Now, in return, your own adventures tell,
And what, fince first you put to sea, bofel.
Then MacareusThere reign'd a prince of fame O'er Tuscan seas, and Æolus his name. A largess to Ulyffes he confign'd, And in a steer's tough hide inclos'd a wind. Nine days before the swelling gale we ran; The tenth, to make the meeting land, began : When now the merry mariners, to find Imagin'd wealth within, the bag unbind. Forthwith out-rush'd a gust, which backwards bore Our gallies to the Læstrigonian fhore, Whose crown Antiphates the tyrant wore. Some few commillion’d were with speed to treat; We to his court repair, his guards we meet. Two friendly flight preserv'd; the third was doom'd, To be by those curs'd cannibals consumid. Inhumanly our hapless friends they treat ; Our men they murder, and destroy our fleet. In time the wife Ulyffes bore away, And dropp’d his anchor in yon faithless bay. The thoughts of perils past we fiill retain, And fear to land, till lots appoint the men.
Polites true, Elpenor given to wine,
Eurylochus, myself, the lots assign.
Design'd for dangers, and resolv'd to dare,
To Circe's fatal palace we repair.
Before the spacious front, a herd we find
Of bcasts, the fiercest of the savage kind.
Our trembling steps with blandishments they meet,
And fawn, unlike their species, at our feet.
Within upon a suinptuous throne of state,
On golden columns rais’d, th’ Enchantress sate.
Rich was her robe, and amiable her mien,
Her aspect awful, and she look'd a queen.
Her inaids not mind the loom, nor houshold care,
in needle-work a Scythian war;
But cull in canisters disastrous flowers,
And plants from haunted heaths, and fairy bowers,
With brazen sickles reap'd at planetary hours.
Each dose the Goddess weigris with watchful eye ;
So nice her art in iinpious pharmacy!
Entering she greets us with a gracious look,
And airs, that future amity bespoke.
Her ready Nymphs serve up a rich repast;
The bowl she dashes first, then gives to taste.
Quick, to our own undoing, we comply;
Her power we prove, and thew the forcery.