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Olympus' gate unfolds:

The almighty Sire a council holds

In heaven's sidereal hall,

Whence earth lies open to his view,

The camp of Troy, the Latian crew:

The gods obey his call,

And range them on their golden seats:

Himself the high occasion treats:

'Great powers of heaven, what change has wrought

Such dire revulsion in your thought?

Whence comes this madness of debate,

These passions flaming into hate?

My nod forbade the Italian folk

'Gainst Teucer's sons to strike a stroke:

What mean your strifes that break my law?

What wild alarm could sway

Or these or those the sword to draw

And wake the sleeping fray?

The battle-day at length shall come

(Let none foredate the hour of doom)

When Carthage town shall roll

On Rome's seven hills the stormy tide,

And through the Alps cleave passage wide

To her predestined goal: