Belike, the fates may baffle Juno's aims;
And why could Pallas, with avenging flames,
Burn a whole navy of the Grecian ships,
And whelm the scatter'd Argives in the deeps?
She, for the crime of Ajax, from above
Launch'd through the clouds the fiery bolts of Jove;
Dafh'd wide his fleet, and, as her tempeft flew,
Expos'd the ocean's inmost depths to view.
Then, while transfix'd the blasted wretch expires 60
Flames from his breaft, and fires fucceeding fires,
Snatch'd in a whirlwind, with a fudden fhock,
She hurl'd him headlong on a pointed rock.
But I, who moves fupreme in heaven's abodes,
Jove's fifter-wife, and emprefs of the gods,
With this one nation must a war maintain
For
years on years; and wage that war in vain!
And now what fuppliants will invoke my name,
Adore my pow'r, or bid my altars flame?
Thus fir'd with rage and vengeance, now the flies
To dark Æolia, from the distant skies,
Impregnated with ftorms; whofe tyrant binds
The bluft'ring tempefts, and reluctant winds.
Their
rage imperial Æolus restrains
With rocky dungeons, and enormous chains.
The bellowing brethren, in the mountain pent,
Roar round the cave, and struggle for a vent.
From his high throne, their fury to affwage,
He shakes his fceptre, and controls their rage;
Or down the void their rapid whirls had driv'n
Earth, air, and ocean, and the tow'rs of heaven.
But Jove, the mighty ruin to prevent,
In gloomy caves th' aërial captives pent;
O'er their wild rage the pond'rous rocks he spread, And hurl'd huge heaps of mountains on their head; 85 And gave a king, commiffion'd to restrain
And curb the tempeft, or to loose the rein.
Whom thus the queen addrefs'd: Since mighty Jove, The king of men, and fire of gods above,
Gives thee, great Æolus, the pow'r to raise
Storms at thy fovereign will, or smooth the feas;
A race, I long have labour'd to destroy,
Waft to Hefperia the remains of Troy.
Ev'n now their navy cuts the Tuscan floods,
Charg'd with their exiles, and their vanquish'd gods. 95. Wing all thy furious winds; o'erwhelm the train, Difperfe, or plunge their veffels in the main.
Twice fev'n bright nymphs, of beauteous fhape are mine;
For thy reward the fairest I'll refign,
The charming Deiopeia fhall be thine;
She, on thy bed, long bleffings fhall confer,
And make thee father of a race like her.
"Tis your's, great queen, replies the pow'r, to lay
The task, and mine to liften and obey.
By you, I fit a guest with gods above,
And share the graces and the smiles of Jove :
By you, these realms, this fceptre I maintain,
And wear thefe honours of the stormy reign.
So fpoke th' obfequious god; and, while he spoke, Whirl'd his vaft spear, and pierc'd the hollow rock. 110
The winds, embattled, as the mountain rent,
Flew all at once impetuous thro' the vent;
Earth, in their course, with giddy whirls they sweep,
Rush to the feas, and bare the bofom of the deep:
East, West, and South, all black with tempefts, roar,
And roll vast billows to the trembling shore.
The cordage cracks; with unavailing cries
The Trojans mourn; while fudden clouds arise,
And ravish from their fight the splendors of the skies.
Night hovers o'er the floods; the day retires;
The heav'ns flash thick with momentary fires;
Loud thunders shake the poles; from ev'ry place
Grim death appear'd, and glar'd in ev'ry face.
In horror fix'd the Trojan hero stands,
He groans, and spreads to heav'n his lifted hands. 125
Thrice happy those! whose fate it was to fall
(Exclaims the chief) beneath the Trojan wall.
Oh! 'twas a glorious fate to die in fight,
To die, fo bravely, in their parents' fight!
Oh! had I there, beneath Tydides' hand,
That braveft hero of the Grecian band,
Pour'd out this foul, with martial glory fir'd,
And in that field triumphantly expir'd,
Where Hector fell by fierce Achilles' spear,
And great Sarpedon, the renown'd in war;
Where Simois' streams, incumber'd with the slain, Roll'd fhields, and helms, and heroes to the main. Thus while he mourns, the Northern blast prevails, Breaks all his cars, and rends his flying fails;
The prow turns round; the galley leaves her fide 140
Bare to the working waves, and roaring tide;
While in huge heaps the gathering furges spread,
And hang in wat'ry mountains o'er his head,
These ride on waves fublime; those see the ground
Low in the boiling deeps, and dark profound.
Three shatter'd gallies the ftrong Southern blast
On hidden rocks, with dreadful fury, caft;
Th' Italians call them altars, as they stood
Sublime, and heav'd their backs above the flood.
Three more, fierce Eurus on the Syrtes threw
From the main fea, and (terrible to view)
He dafh'd, and left the veffels, on the land,
Intrench'd with mountains of furrounding fand.
Struck by a billow, in the hero's view,
From prow to stern the shatter'd galley flew
Which bore Orontes, and the Lycian crew:
Swept off the deck, the pilot from the ship,
Stunn'd by the ftroke, fhot headlong down the deep:
The veffel, by the furge toft round and round,
Sunk, in the whirling gulf devour'd and drown'd. 160
Some from the dark abyfs emerge again;
Arms, planks, and treasures, float along the main.
And now thy fhip, Ilioneus, gives way,
Nor thine, Achates, can refift the fea;
Nor old Alethes his ftrong galley faves;
Then Abas yields to the victorious waves:
The ftorm diffolves their well-compacted fides,
Which drink at many a leak the hoftile tides.
Mean time th' imperial monarch of the main
Heard the loud tumults in his watʼry reign,
And faw the furious tempeft wide around
Work up the waters, from the vast profound.
Then for his liquid realms alarm'd, the god
Lifts his high head above the ftormy flood,
Majestic and ferene: he rolls his eyes,
And scatter'd wide the Trojan navy fpies,
Full well he knew his fifter's endless hate,
Her wiles and arts to fink the Trojan ftate.
To Eurus, and the Western blaft, he cry'd,
Does your high birth inspire this boundless pride,
Audacious winds! without a pow'r from me,
To raife, at will, fuch mountains on the fea?
Thus to confound heav'n, earth, the air, and main?
Whom I but first I'll calm the waves again.
But if you tempt my rage a second time,
Know, that fome heavier vengeance waits the crime. Hence; fly with speed; from me, your tyrant tell, That to my lot this wat'ry empire fell.
Bid him his rocks, your darkfome dungeons keep, 190
Nor dare ufurp the trident of the deep.
There, in that gloomy court, difplay his pow'r,
And hear his tempefts round their caverns roar.
He spoke, and speaking chac'd the clouds away,
Hufh'd the loud billows, and reftor'd the day.
Cymothoë guards the veffels in the shock,
And Triton heaves 'em from the pointed rock.
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