Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/50

48 He spoke, and awful bends his sable brows,

Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod;

The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god:

High heaven with trembling the dread signal took,

And all Olympus to the centre shook.

Swift to the seas profound the goddess flies,

Jove to his starry mansion in the skies.

The shining synod of the immortals wait

The coming god, and from their thrones of state

Arising silent, rapt in holy fear,

Before the majesty of heaven appear.

Trembling they stand, while Jove assumes the throne,

All, but the god's imperious queen alone:

Late had she viewed the silver-footed dame,

And all her passions kindled into flame.

"Say, artful manager of heaven," she cries,

"Who now partakes the secrets of the skies?

Thy Juno knows not the decrees of fate,

In vain the partner of imperial state.

What favourite goddess then those cares divides,

Which Jove in prudence from his consort hides?"

To this the Thunderer: "Seek not thou to find

The sacred counsels of almighty mind:

Involved in darkness lies the great decree,

Nor can the depths of fate be pierced by thee.

What fits thy knowledge, thou the first shalt know:

The first of gods above and men below:

But thou, nor they, shall search the thoughts that roll

Deep in the close recesses of my soul."

Full on the sire, the goddess of the skies

Rolled the large orbs of her majestic eyes,

And thus returned: "Austere Saturnius, say,

From whence this wrath, or who controls thy sway?

Thy boundless will, for me, remains in force,

And all thy counsels take the destined course.

But 'tis for Greece I fear: for late was seen

In close consult the silver-footed queen.

Jove to his Thetis nothing could deny,

Nor was the signal vain that shook the sky.

What fatal favour has the goddess won,

To grace her fierce inexorable son?

Perhaps in Grecian blood to drench the plain,

And glut his vengeance with my people slain."

Then thus the god: "O restless fate of pride,

That strives to learn what heaven resolves to hide;

Vain is the search, presumptuous and abhorred,

Anxious to thee, and odious to thy lord.

Let this suffice: the immutable decree

No force can shake: what is, that ought to be.

Goddess submit, nor dare our will withstand,