Page:The Works of Alexander Pope (1717).djvu/378

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The FIRST BOOK of
Demands their lives by whom his monster fell,And dooms a dreadful sacrifice to hell.Bless'd be thy dust, and let eternal fameAttend thy Manes, and preserve thy name;Undaunted Hero! who, divinely brave,In such a cause disdain'd thy life to save;But view'd the shrine with a superior look,And its upbraided Godhead thus bespoke.With piety, the soul's securest guard,And conscious virtue, still its own reward,Willing I come, unknowing how to fear;Nor shalt thou, Phœbus, find a suppliant here.Thy monster's death to me was ow'd alone,And 'tis a deed too glorious to disown.Behold him here, for whom, so many days,Impervious clouds conceal'd thy sullen rays;For whom, as Man no longer claim'd thy care,Such numbers fell by pestilential air!But if th' abandon'd race of human-kindFrom Gods above no more compassion find,

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