304
VIRGIL's
Æn. I.
With Whirlwinds from beneath she toss'd the Ship,
And bare expos'd the Bosom of the deep:65
Then, as an Eagle gripes the trembling Game,
The Wretch yet hissing with her Father's Flame,
She strongly seiz'd, and with a burning Wound,
Transfix'd and naked, on a Rock she bound.
But I, who walk in awful State above,70
The Majesty of Heav'n, the Sister-wife of Jove;
For length of Years, my fruitless Force employ
Against the thin remains of ruin'd Troy.
What Nations now to Juno's Pow'r will pray,
Or Off'rings on my slighted Altars lay?75
Thus rag'd the Goddess, and with Fury fraught,
The restless Regions of the Storms she sought.
Where in a spacious Cave of living Stone,
The Tyrant Æolus from his Airy Throne,
With Pow'r Imperial curbs the strugling Winds,80
And sounding Tempests in dark Prisons binds.
This Way, and that, th' impatient Captives tend,
And pressing for Release, the Mountains rend;
High in his Hall, th' undaunted Monarch stands,
And shakes his Scepter, and their Rage commands:85
Which did he not, their unresisted Sway
Wou'd sweep the World before them, in their Way:
Earth, Air, and Seas through empty Space wou'd rowl,
And Heav'n would fly before the driving Soul.
In fear of this, the Father of the Gods 90
Confin'd their Fury to those dark Abodes,
And lock'd' em safe within, oppress'd with Mountain loads:
And bare expos'd the Bosom of the deep:65
Then, as an Eagle gripes the trembling Game,
The Wretch yet hissing with her Father's Flame,
She strongly seiz'd, and with a burning Wound,
Transfix'd and naked, on a Rock she bound.
But I, who walk in awful State above,70
The Majesty of Heav'n, the Sister-wife of Jove;
For length of Years, my fruitless Force employ
Against the thin remains of ruin'd Troy.
What Nations now to Juno's Pow'r will pray,
Or Off'rings on my slighted Altars lay?75
Thus rag'd the Goddess, and with Fury fraught,
The restless Regions of the Storms she sought.
Where in a spacious Cave of living Stone,
The Tyrant Æolus from his Airy Throne,
With Pow'r Imperial curbs the strugling Winds,80
And sounding Tempests in dark Prisons binds.
This Way, and that, th' impatient Captives tend,
And pressing for Release, the Mountains rend;
High in his Hall, th' undaunted Monarch stands,
And shakes his Scepter, and their Rage commands:85
Which did he not, their unresisted Sway
Wou'd sweep the World before them, in their Way:
Earth, Air, and Seas through empty Space wou'd rowl,
And Heav'n would fly before the driving Soul.
In fear of this, the Father of the Gods 90
Confin'd their Fury to those dark Abodes,
And lock'd' em safe within, oppress'd with Mountain loads:
