But dread the power of this avenging hand;
The united strength of all the gods above
In vain resists the omnipotence of Jove."
The Thunderer spoke, nor durst the queen reply;
A reverend horror silenced all the sky.
The feast disturbed, with sorrow Vulcan saw
His mother menaced, and the gods in awe;
Peace at his heart, and pleasure his design,
Thus interposed the architect divine:
"The wretched quarrels of the mortal state
Are far unworthy, gods! of your debate:
Let men their days in senseless strife employ,
We, in eternal peace, and constant joy.
Thou, goddess-mother, with our sire comply,
Nor break the sacred union of the sky:
Lest, roused to rage, he shake the blest abodes,
Launch the red lightning, and dethrone the gods.
If you submit, the Thunderer stands appeased;
The gracious power is willing to be pleased."
Thus Vulcan spoke; and, rising with a bound,
The double bowl[1] with sparkling nectar crowned,
Which held to Juno in a cheerful way,
"Goddess," he cried, "be patient and obey.
Dear as you are, if Jove his arm extend,
I can but grieve, unable to defend.
What god so daring in your aid to move,
Or lift his hand against the force of Jove?
Once in your cause I felt his matchless might,
Hurled headlong downward from the ethereal height;
Tossed all the day in rapid circles round;
Nor, till the sun descended, touched the ground:
Breathless I fell, in giddy motion lost;
The Sinthians raised me on the Lemnian coast."
He said, and to her hands the goblet heaved,
Which, with a smile, the white-armed queen received.
Then to the rest he filled; and, in his turn,
Each to his lips applied the nectared urn.
Vulcan with awkward grace his office plies,
And unextinguished laughter shakes the skies.
Thus the blest gods the genial day prolong,
In feasts ambrosial, and celestial song.
Apollo tuned the lyre; the muses round
With voice alternate aid the silver sound.
Meantime the radiant sun, to mortal sight
Descending swift, rolled down the rapid light.
Then to their starry domes the gods depart,
The shining monuments of Vulcan's art:
Jove on his couch reclined his awful head,
And Juno slumbered on the golden bed.
- ↑ Double-handled, not a double cup.
