Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 2) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/298

No Victim can attone the impious Age,
No Sacrifice the wrathful Gods assuage,
Dire Wars and civil Fury threat the State;
And every Omen points out Cæsar's Fate:
Around each hallow'd Shrine, and sacred Dome,
Night-howling Dogs disturb the peaceful Gloom;
Their silent Seats the wandring Shades forsake,
And fearful Tremblings the rock'd City shake.
Yet could not, by these Prodigies, be broke
The plotted Charm, or staid the fatal Stroke;
Their Swords th' Assassins in the Temple draw;
Their murth'ring Hands nor Gods nor Temples awe;
This sacred Place their bloody Weapons stain,
And Virtue falls, before the Altar slain.
'Twas now fair Cypria, with her Woes opprest,
In raging Anguish smote her heav'nly Breast;
Wild with distracting Fears, the Goddess try'd
Her Hero in th' etherial Cloud to hide,
The Cloud, which youthful Paris did conceal,
When Menelaus urg'd the threatning Steel;
The Cloud, which once deceiv'd Tydides' Sight,
And sav'd Æneas in th' unequal Fight.
When Jove—In vain, fair Daughter, you assay
To o'er-rule Deftiny's unconquer'd Sway:
Your Doubts to banish, enter Fate's Abode;
A Privilege to heav'nly Powers allow'd;
There shall you see the Records grav'd, in length,
On Ir'n and solid Brass, with mighty Strength;
Which Heav'n's, and Earth's Concussion shall endure;
Maugre all Shocks, eternal, and secure:
There, on perennial Adamant design'd,
The various Fortunes of your Race you'll find:
Well I have marked 'em, and will now relate
To thee the settled Laws of future Fate.
He, Goddess, for whose Death the Fates you blame,
Has finish'd his determin'd Course with Fame:

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