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POPE.
45
Phœbus himself the dire debate procur'd,
fierce
T'avenge the wrongs his injur'd priest endur'd;
For this the God a dire infection spread,
And heap'd the camp with millions of the dead:
The King of Men the Sacred Sire defy'd,
And for the King's offence the people dy'd.
fierce
T'avenge the wrongs his injur'd priest endur'd;
For this the God a dire infection spread,
And heap'd the camp with millions of the dead:
The King of Men the Sacred Sire defy'd,
And for the King's offence the people dy'd.
For Chryses sought with costly gifts to gain
His captive daughter from the Victor's chain;
Suppliant the venerable Father stands,
Apollo's awful ensigns grace his hands;
By these he begs, and, lowly bending down,
Extends the sceptre and the laurel crown.
For Chryses sought by presents to regain
costly gifts to gain
His captive daughter from the Victor's chain;
Suppliant the venerable father stands,
Apollo's awful ensigns grac'd his hands.
By these he begs, and lowly bending down
The golden sceptre and the laurel crown,
Presents the sceptre
For these as ensigns of his God he bare,
The God that sends his golden shafts afar;
The low on earth, the venerable man,
Suppliant before the brother kings began.
costly gifts to gain
His captive daughter from the Victor's chain;
Suppliant the venerable father stands,
Apollo's awful ensigns grac'd his hands.
By these he begs, and lowly bending down
The golden sceptre and the laurel crown,
Presents the sceptre
For these as ensigns of his God he bare,
The God that sends his golden shafts afar;
The low on earth, the venerable man,
Suppliant before the brother kings began.
He sued to all, but chief implor'd for grace,
The brother kings of Atreus' royal race;
Ye kings and warriours, may your vows be crown'd,
And Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground,
May Jove restore you, when your toils are o'er,
Safe to the pleasures of your native shore.
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