'Th' Assistance, Roman, which you here implore,
'Seek from another, and a nearer Shore;
'Relief must be implor'd, and Succour won,
'Not from Apollo, but Apollo's Son;
'My Son, to Latium born, shall bring Redress:
'Go, with good Omens, and expect Success.
When these clear Oracles the Senate knew;
The sacred Tripod's Counsels they pursue,
Depute a Pious and a chosen Band,
Who sail to Epidaurus' neighb'ring Land:
Before the Græcian Elders when they stood,
They pray 'em to bestow the healing God:
'Ordain'd was he to save Ausonia's State;
'So promis'd Delphi, and unerring Fate.
Opinions various their Debates enlarge:
Some plead to yield to Rome the sacred Charge;
Others, tenacious of their Country's Wealth,
Refuse to grant the Pow'r, who guards it's Health.
While dubious they remain'd, the wasting Light
Withdrew before the growing Shades of Night;
Thick Darkness now obscur'd the dusky Skies:
Now, Roman, clos'd in Sleep were mortal Eyes,
When Health's auspicuous God appears to thee,
And thy glad Dreams his Form celestial see:
In his left Hand, a rural Staff preferr'd,
His Right is seen to stroke his decent Beard.
'Dismiss, said he, with Mildness all divine,
'Dismiss your Fears; I come, and leave my Shrine;
'This Serpent view, that with ambitious Play
'My Staff encircles, mark him ev'ry way;
'His Form, tho' larger, nobler, I'll assume,
'And chang'd, as Gods should be, bring Aid to Rome.
Here fled the Vision, and the Vision's flight
Was follow'd by the chearful Dawn of Light.
Now was the Morn with blushing Streaks o'er-spread,
And all the starry Fires of Heav'n were fled;
The