Page:The Works of Alexander Pope (1717).djvu/370
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
334
The FIRST BOOK of
The sable flock shall fall beneath the stroke,
And fill thy temples with a grateful smoke:
Hail, faithful Tripos! hail, ye dark abodes
Of awful Phœbus: I confess the Gods!
Thus, seiz'd with sacred fear, the Monarch pray'd;
Then to his inner court the guests convey'd;
Where yet thin fumes from dying sparks arise,
And dust yet white upon each altar lies;
The relicks of a former sacrifice.
The King once more the solemn rites requires,
And bids renew the feasts, and wake the fires.
His train obey, while all the courts around
With noisy care and various tumult sound.
Embroider'd purple cloaths the golden beds;
This slave the floor, and that the table spreads;
A third dispels 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 slaughter'd victims fry.
And fill thy temples with a grateful smoke:
Hail, faithful Tripos! hail, ye dark abodes
Of awful Phœbus: I confess the Gods!
Thus, seiz'd with sacred fear, the Monarch pray'd;
Then to his inner court the guests convey'd;
Where yet thin fumes from dying sparks arise,
And dust yet white upon each altar lies;
The relicks of a former sacrifice.
The King once more the solemn rites requires,
And bids renew the feasts, and wake the fires.
His train obey, while all the courts around
With noisy care and various tumult sound.
Embroider'd purple cloaths the golden beds;
This slave the floor, and that the table spreads;
A third dispels 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 slaughter'd victims fry.
Sublime