Page:The Works of Alexander Pope (1717).djvu/358

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The FIRST BOOK of
Yet I can pardon those obscurer rapes,Those bashful crimes disguis'd in borrow'd shapes;But Thebes, where shining in cœlestial charmsThou cam'st triumphant to a mortal's arms,When all my glories o'er her limbs were spread,And blazing lightnings danc'd around her bed;Curs'd Thebes the vengeance it deserves, may prove,———Ah why shou'd Argos feel the rage of Jove?Yet since thou wilt thy sister-Queen controul,Since still the lust of discord fires thy soul,Go, rase my Samos, let Mycenè fall,And level with the dust the Spartan wall:No more let mortals Juno's pow'r invoke,Her fanes no more with eastern incense smoke,Nor victims sink beneath the sacred stroke;But to your Isis all my rites transfer,Let altars blaze and temples smoke for her;For her, thro' Ægypt's fruitful clime renown'd,Let weeping Nilus hear the timbrel sound.

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