Page:The Poetical Works of Thomas Parnell (1833).djvu/184

56 And tapering sea-reeds for the polish'd spear, With upright order pierc'd the ambient air. Thus dress'd for war, they take th' appointed height, Poize the long arms, and urge the promis'd fight.

But now, where Jove's irradiate spires arise, With stars surrounded in ethereal skies, (A solemn council call'd) the brazen gates Unbar; the gods assume their golden seats: The sire superior leans, and points to show What wondrous combats mortals wage below: How strong, how large, the numerous heroes stride; What length of lance they shake with warlike pride; What eager fire, their rapid march reveals; So the fierce Centaurs ravag'd o'er the dales; And so confirm'd, the daring Titans rose, Heap'd hills on hills, and bid the gods be foes.

This seen, the power his sacred visage rears, He casts a pitying smile on worldly cares, And asks what heavenly guardians take the list, Or who the mice, or who the frogs assist?

Then thus to Pallas. If my daughter's mind Have join'd the mice, why stays she still behind? Drawn forth by savoury steams they wind their way, And sure attendance round thine altar pay, Where while the victims gratify their taste, They sport to please the goddess of the feast. Thus spake the ruler of the spacious skies;