4
Behold, in triple majesty sublime
Arises Hecatē; and in his prime
Mild Bacchus, with the ringlets ivy-crowned;
The Parthian tiger's hide his limbs hath bound,
Clasp' d by the golden claws that o'er it meet:
Mæonia's Thyrsus guides his staggering feet.
Ye, on whose bidding wait the listless crew
Of vast Avernus—to whose stores are due
The perish'd things of earth—dark powers, who fix
Your sullen residence by livid Styx,
Or where, mid smoke and fiery spray, whirl on
The panting waves of eddying Phlegethon—
Uplift the veil of mystery—proclaim
The secrets of your heaven—how glow'd Love's flame
In Pluto's breast—by what compulsion led,
(Chaos her dower) coy Proserpine was wed:
Far o'er how many lands her Mother stray'd,
And sought, with anxious quest, the stolen maid:
Whence laws the nations gain'd, and pleased forsook
For new-discover'd corn Dodona's oak.
Dire was the burst of swelling wrath, that drove
Hell's Lord with war to menace Heaven above.
He could not brook a solitary throne,
Condemn'd to waste his sterile years alone,
