Page:The Works of Alexander Pope (1717).djvu/352
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316
The FIRST BOOK of
Thou Sire of Gods and men, imperial Jove!
Is this th' eternal doom decreed above?
On thy own offspring hast thou fix'd this fate,
From the first birth of our unhappy state;
When banish'd Cadmus wand'ring o'er the main,
For lost Europa search'd the world in vain,
And fated in Bœotian fields to found
A rising empire on a foreign ground,
First rais'd our walls on that ill-omen'd plain,
Where earth-born brothers were by brothers slain?
What lofty looks th' unrival'd monarch bears!
How all the tyrant in his face appears!
What sullen fury clouds his scornful brow!
Gods! how his eyes with threatning ardour glow!
Can this imperious Lord forget to reign,
Quit all his state, descend, and serve again?
Yet who, before, more popularly bow'd,
Who more propitious to the suppliant crowd,
Patient of right, familiar in the throne?
What wonder then? he was not then alone.
Is this th' eternal doom decreed above?
On thy own offspring hast thou fix'd this fate,
From the first birth of our unhappy state;
When banish'd Cadmus wand'ring o'er the main,
For lost Europa search'd the world in vain,
And fated in Bœotian fields to found
A rising empire on a foreign ground,
First rais'd our walls on that ill-omen'd plain,
Where earth-born brothers were by brothers slain?
What lofty looks th' unrival'd monarch bears!
How all the tyrant in his face appears!
What sullen fury clouds his scornful brow!
Gods! how his eyes with threatning ardour glow!
Can this imperious Lord forget to reign,
Quit all his state, descend, and serve again?
Yet who, before, more popularly bow'd,
Who more propitious to the suppliant crowd,
Patient of right, familiar in the throne?
What wonder then? he was not then alone.
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