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The bulls, redeem'd, breathe open air again.



Next, by the feet, they drag him from his den.

The wond'ring neighborhood, with glad surprise,



Behold his shagged breast, his giant size,

His mouth that flames no more, and his extinguish'd eyes.



From that auspicious day, with rites divine,

We worship at the hero's holy shrine.



Potitius first ordain'd these annual vows:

As priests, were added the Pinarian house,



Who rais'd this altar in the sacred shade,

Where honors, ever due, for ever shall be paid.



For these deserts, and this high virtue shown,

Ye warlike youths, your heads with garlands crown:



Fill high the goblets with a sparkling flood,

And with deep draughts invoke our common god."



This said, a double wreath Evander twin'd,

And poplars black and white his temples bind.



Then brims his ample bowl. With like design

The rest invoke the gods, with sprinkled wine.



Meantime the sun descended from the skies,

And the bright evening star began to rise.



And now the priests, Potitius at their head,

In skins of beasts involv'd, the long procession led;



Held high the flaming tapers in their hands,

As custom had prescrib'd their holy bands;



Then with a second course the tables load,

And with full chargers offer to the god.



The Salii sing, and cense his altars round

With Saban smoke, their heads with poplar bound-



One choir of old, another of the young,

To dance, and bear the burthen of the song.



The lay records the labors, and the praise,

And all th' immortal acts of Hercules:



First, how the mighty babe, when swath'd in bands,

The serpents strangled with his infant hands;



Then, as in years and matchless force he grew,

Th' Oechalian walls, and Trojan, overthrew.



Besides, a thousand hazards they relate,

Procur'd by Juno's and Eurystheus' hate:



"Thy hands, unconquer'd hero, could subdue

The cloud-born Centaurs, and the monster crew:



Nor thy resistless arm the bull withstood,

Nor he, the roaring terror of the wood.



The tripleporter of the Stygian seat,

With lolling tongue, lay fawning at thy feet,



And, seiz'd with fear, forgot his mangled meat.

Th' infernal waters trembled at thy sight;



Thee, god, no face of danger could affright;

Not huge Typhoeus, nor th' unnumber'd snake,



Increas'd with hissing heads, in Lerna's lake.

Hail, Jove's undoubted son! an added grace



To heav'n and the great author of thy race!

Receive the grateful off'rings which we pay,



And smile propitious on thy solemn day!"

In numbers thus they sung; above the rest,



The den and death of Cacus crown the feast.

The woods to hollow vales convey the sound,



The vales to hills, and hills the notes rebound.

The rites perform'd, the cheerful train retire.



Betwixt young Pallas and his aged sire,

The Trojan pass'd, the city to survey,



And pleasing talk beguil'd the tedious way.

The stranger cast around his curious eyes,



New objects viewing still, with new surprise;

With greedy joy enquires of various things,



And acts and monuments of ancient kings.

Then thus the founder of the Roman tow'rs:



"These woods were first the seat of sylvan pow'rs,

Of Nymphs and Fauns, and salvage men, who took



Their birth from trunks of trees and stubborn oak.




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