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The monarch own'd that first of crimes unjust,
The wanton revels of adulterous lust:
Such was his rage for beauteous Leonore,
Her from her husband's widow'd arms he tore:
Then with unblest, unhallowed nuptials stained
The sacred altar, and its rites profaned.
Alas! the splendor of a crown how vain,
From heaven's dread eye to veil the dimmest stain!
To conquering Greece, to ruin'd Troy, what woes,
What ills on ills, from Helen's rape arose!
Let Appius own, let banish'd Tarquin tell
On their hot rage what heavy vengeance fell.
One female ravish'd Gibeah's streets beheld,
O'er Gibeah's streets the blood of thousands swell'd
In vengeance of the crime; and streams of blood
The guilt of Zion's sacred bard pursued.
Yet
