Page:The Works of Alexander Pope (1717).djvu/361

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Haste then, Cyllenius, thro' the liquid air;Go mount the winds, and to the shades repair;Bid hell's black monarch my commands obey,And give up Laius to the realms of day,Whose ghost, yet shiv'ring on Cocytus' sand,Expects its passage to the farther strand:Let the pale fire revisit Thebes, and bearThese pleasing orders to the Tyrant's ear;That, from his exil'd brother, swell'd with prideOf foreign forces, and his Argive bride,Almighty Jove commands him to detainThe promis'd empire, and alternate reign:Be this the cause of more than mortal hate;The rest, succeeding times shall ripen into fate,The God obeys, and to his feet appliesThose golden wings that cut the yielding skies;His ample hat his beamy locks o'erspread,And veil'd the starry glories of his head:He seiz'd his wand that causes sleep to fly,Or in soft slumbers seals the wakeful eye;

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