Page:The Works of Alexander Pope (1717).djvu/344

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The FIRST BOOK of
If you receiv'd me from Jocasta's womb,And nurs'd the hope of mischiefs yet to come:If leaving Polybus, I took my wayTo Cyrrha's temple on that fatal day,When by the son the trembling father dy'd,Where the three roads the Phocian fields divide:If I the Sphynxe's riddles durst explain,Taught by thy self to win the promis'd reign:If wretched I, by baleful furies led,With monstrous mixture stain'd my mother's bed,For hell and thee begot an impious brood,And with full lust those horrid joys renew'd:Then self-condemn'd to shades of endless night,Forc'd from these orbs the bleeding balls of sight.Oh hear, and aid the vengeance I require,If worthy thee, and what thou might'st inspire!My sons their old, unhappy sire despise,Spoil'd of his kingdom, and depriv'd of eyes;Guideless I wander, unregarded mourn,While these exalt their scepters o'er my urn;

These

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