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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Your vests have sweeping sleeves; with female pride Your turbants underneath your chins are tied. Go, Phrygians, to your Dindymus again! Go, less than women, in the shapes of men! Go, mix'd with eunuchs, in the Mother's rites, Where with unequal sound the flute invites; Sing, dance, and howl, by turns, in Ida's shade: Resign the war to men, who know the martial trade!" This foul reproach Ascanius could not hear With patience, or a vow'd revenge forbear. At the full stretch of both his hands he drew, And almost join'd the horns of the tough yew. But, first, before the throne of Jove he stood, And thus with lifted hands invok'd the god: "My first attempt, great Jupiter, succeed! An annual off'ring in thy grove shall bleed; A snow-white steer, before thy altar led, Who, like his mother, bears aloft his head, Butts with his threat'ning brows, and bellowing stands, And dares the fight, and spurns the yellow sands." Jove bow'd the heav'ns, and lent a gracious ear, And thunder'd on the left, amidst the clear. Sounded at once the bow; and swiftly flies The feather'd death, and hisses thro' the skies. The steel thro' both his temples forc'd the way: Extended on the ground, Numanus lay. "Go now, vain boaster, and true valor scorn! The Phrygians, twice subdued, yet make this third return." Ascanius said no more. The Trojans shake The heav'ns with shouting, and new vigor take. Apollo then bestrode a golden cloud, To view the feats of arms, and fighting crowd; And thus the beardless victor he bespoke aloud: "Advance, illustrious youth, increase in fame, And wide from east to west extend thy name; Offspring of gods thyself; and Rome shall owe To thee a race of demigods below. This is the way to heav'n: the pow'rs divine From this beginning date the Julian line. To thee, to them, and their victorious heirs, The conquer'd war is due, and the vast world is theirs. Troy is too narrow for thy name." He said, |