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Retire to yon' steep Mount, with groves o’er-spread, Which with an awful gloom his temple shade.

With fear the modeft matron lifts her eyes,
And to the bright Ambassadress replies :

O Goddess, yet to mortal eyes unknown !
But sure thy various charms confess thee one :
O quick to Romulus thy votress bear!
With looks of love he'll smile away my care;
In whate'er orb he thines, my Heaven is there.
Then hastes with Iris to the holy grove,
And, up the Mount Quirinal as they move,
A lambent flame glides downward through the air,
And brightens with a blaze Hersilia's hair.
Together on the bounding ray they rise,
And shoot a gleam of light along the skies.
With opening arms Quirinus met his bride,
Now Ora nam’d, and press’d her to his fide,

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R as when Cippus in the current view'd

The shooting horn that on his forehead food,
His temples first he feels, and with surprize
His touch confirms th' assurance of his eyes;
Straight to the skies his horned front he rears,
And to the Gods directs these pious prayers :

If this portent be prosperous, o decree
To Rome th'event; if otherwise, to me.
An altar then of turf he halies to raise,
Rich gums in fragrant exhalations blaze ;
The panting entrails crackle as they fry,
And boding fumes pronounce a mystery.
Coon as the augur saw the holy fire,
And victiins with presaging ligns expire,
To Cippus then he turns his eyes with speed,
And views the horny honours of his head:
Then cry’d, Hail, conqueror ! thy call obey,
*Those omens I behold prefage thy sway.

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Rome waits thy nod, unwilling to be free,
And owns thy sovereign power as Fate's decree.

He said and Cippus, starting at th' event,.
Spoke in these words his pious discontent:

Far hence, ye Gods, this execration fend,
And the great race of Romulus defend.
Better that I in exile live orr
Than e'er the capitol should stile me lord.

This spoke, he hides with leaves his omen'd head; Then prays, the senate next convenes, and said:

If augurs can forefee, a wretch is come,
Design’d by destiny the bane of Rome.
Two horns (most strange to tell) his temples crown;
If e'er he pass the walls, and gain the town,
Your laws are forfeit that ill-fated hour,
And liberty must yield to lawless power.
Your gates he might have enter'd; but this arm
Seiz'd the usurper, and with-held the harm.
Haste, find the monster out, and let him be
Condemn'd to all the senate can decree;
Or tyd in chains, or into exile thrown";
Or by the tyrant's death prevent your own.

The crowd such murmurs utter as they stand,
As swelling surges breaking on the strand :
Or as when gathering gales fweep o'er the grove,
And their tall heads the bending cedars move.
Each with confusion gaz'd, and then began
To feel his fellow's brows, and find the man,
Cippus then shakes his garland off, and cries,
The wretch you want, 1 offer to your eyes.

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The anxious throng look'd down, and, sad in thought, All wish'd they had not found the sign they fought : In haste with laurel-wreaths his head they bind; Such honour to such virtue was assign'd. Then thus the fenate : Hear, O Cippus, hear ; So God-like is thy tutelary care, That, since in Rome thyself forbids thy stay, For thy abode those acres we convey The plough-share can surround, the labour of a day. In deathless records thou shalt stand inrollid, And Rome's rich posts shall shine with horns of gold.

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COULD he whom my dissembled rigour grieves

, But know what torment to my soul it gives; He'd find how fondly I return his flame,

And want myself the pity he would claim. Immortal gods! why has your doom decreed Two wounded hearts with equal pangs should bleed? Since that great law, which your tribunal guides, Has join'd in love whom destiny divides ; Repent, ye powers, the injuries you cause, Or change our natures, or reform

your

laws.
Unhappy partner of my killing pain,
Think what I feel the moment you complain.
Each figh you utter wounds my tenderest part,
So much my lips misrepresent my heart.
When from your eyes the falling drops distil,
My vital blood in every tear you spill:
And all those mournful agonies I hear,
Are but the echoes of my own despair.

AN

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