Then will I mount the brazen dome, and

And, pleas'd, dispense the flowing bowls around.

With hymns divine the joyous banquet ends,

The Pæans lengthen'd till the sun descends:

The Greeks, restor'd, the grateful notes prolong:

620

Apollo listens, and approves the song. T was night; the chiefs beside their vessel lie,

Till rosy morn had purpled o'er the sky: Then launch, and hoist the mast; indulgent gales,

Supplied by Phoebus, fill the swelling sails; The milk-white canvas bellying as they blow,

The parted ocean foams and roars below: Above the bounding billows swift they flew,

Till now the Grecian camp appear'd in view.

Far on the beach they haul their barks to land, 630

(The crooked keel divides the yellow sand),

Then part, where stretch'd along the wind

ing bay

The ships and tents in mingled prospect

lay.

Who rolls the thunder o'er the vaulted skies:

'What hast thou ask'd? Ah, why should Jove engage

In foreign contests, and domestic rage, The Gods' complaints, and Juno's fierce alarms,

While I, too partial, aid the Trojan arms?
Go, lest the haughty partner of my sway
With jealous eyes thy close access survey;
But part in peace, secure thy prayer is sped:
Witness the sacred honours of our head,
The nod that ratifies the will divine,
The faithful, fix'd, irrevocable sign;
This seals thy suit, and this fulfils thy

VOWS

680