This, long revolv'd in his paternal breast,
Sate heavy on his heart, and broke his rest ;
This, great Amphiaraus, lay hid from thee,
Tho' skill'd in fate and dark futurity.
The father's care and prophet's art were vain,
For thus did the predicting God ordain.
Lo hapless Tydeus, whofe ill-fated hand
Had flain his brother, leaves his native land,
And feiz'd with horror, in the fhades of night,
Thro' the thick defarts headlong urg'd his flight':
Now by the fury of the tempefts driv❜n
He feeks a fhelter from th' inclement heav'n,
Till led by fate, the Theban's fteps he treads,
And to fair Argos' open court fücceeds.1 ··
When thus the chiefs from diff'rent lands refort
T'Adraftus realms, and hospitable court,
The King furveys his guests with curious eyes,
And views their arms and habit with furprize.
A lion's yellow skin the Theban wears,
Horrid his mane, and rough with curling hairs;
Such once employ'd Alcider' youthful toils,
E're yet adorn'd with Nemea's dreadful fpoils.
Kkkk
A boar's
A boar's stiff hide, of Calydonian breed,
Oenides' manly shoulders overfpread,
Oblique his tusks, erect his bristles ftood,
Alive, the pride, and terror of the wood.
Struck with the fight, and fix'd in deep amaze,
The King th' accomplish'd oracle furveys,
Reveres Apollo's vocal caves, and owns
The guiding Godhead, and his future fons.
O'er all his bofom fecret tranfports reign,
And a glad horror fhoots thro' ev'ry vein:
To heav'n he lifts his hands, erects his fight,
And thus invokes the filent Queen of night.
Goddess of fhades, beneath whofe gloomy reign
Yon' fpangled arch glows with the starry train,
You who the cares of heav'n and earth allay,
Till nature, quickned by th' infpiring ray,
Wakes to new vigour with the rifing day.
Oh thou, who freeft me from my doubtful state,
Long loft and wilder'd in the maze of fate!
Be present still, oh Goddefs! in our aid;
Proceed, and firm thofe Omens thou haft made!
We to thy name our annual rites will pay,
And on thy altars facrifices lay;
The fable flock fhall fall beneath the stroke,
And fill thy temples with a grateful smoke:
Hail, faithful Tripos! hail, ye dark abodes
Of awful Phoebus: I confefs the Gods!
Thus, feiz'd with facred fear, the Monarch pray'd;
Then to his inner court the guests convey'd ;
Where yet thin fumes from dying fparks arise,
And duft yet white upon each altar lies;
The relicks of a former facrifice.
The King once more the folemn rites requires,
And bids renew the feafts, and wake the fires.
His train obey, while all the courts around
With noify care and various tumult found.
Embroider'd purple cloaths the golden beds;
This flave the floor, and that the table spreads;
A third difpels the darkness of the night,
And fills depending lamps with beams of light;
Here loaves in canisters are pil'd on high,
And there, in flames the flaughter'd victims fry.
Sublime in regal state, Adraftus fhone,
Stretch'd on rich carpets, on his iv'ry throne;
A lofty couch receives each princely guest;
Around, at awful diftance, wait the reft.
And now the King, his royal feast to grace,
Aceftis calls, the guardian of his race,
Who first their youth in arts of virtue train'd,
And their ripe years in modest grace maintain❜d.
Then foftly whisper'd in her faithful ear,
And bade his daughters at the rites appear.
When from the clofe apartments of the night,
The royal nymphs approach'd divinely bright;
Such was Diana's, fuch Minerva's face;
Nor fhine their beauties with fuperior grace,
But that in thefe a milder charm endears,
And lefs of terror in their looks appears.
As on the heroes firft they caft their eyes,
O'er their fair cheeks the glowing blushes rise,
Their down-caft looks a decent fhame confeft,
Then, on their father's rev'rend features reft.
The banquet done, the Monarch gives the fign,
To fill the goblet high with sparkling wine,
Which Danaus us'd in facred rites of old,
With sculpture grac'd, and rough with rising gold.
Here to the clouds victorious Perfeus flies;
Medusa feems to move her languid eyes,
And ev❜n in gold, turns paler as she dies.
There from the chace Jove's tow'ring eagle bears
On golden wings, the Phrygian to the stars;
Still as he rifes in th' æthereal height,
His native mountains leffen to his fight;
While all his fad companions upward gaze,
Fix'd on the glorious fcene in wild amaze,
And the swift hounds, affrighted as he flies,
Run to the fhade, and bark against the skies.
This golden bowl with gen'rous juice was crown'd, The first libations fprinkled on the ground: By turns on each celestial pow'r they call With Phoebus' name refounds the vaulted hall. The courtly train, the strangers, and the rest, Crown'd with chafte lawrel, and with garlands drest, (While with rich gums the fuming altars blaze) Salute the God in num'rous hymns of praise.
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