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204 POEMS.
I would not foil thefe pure ambrofial weeds
With the rank vapours of this fin-worn mould.
But to my talk. Neptune befides the fvvay
Of every fait flood, and each ebbing ftream,
Took in by lot 'twixt high and nether Jove
Imperial rule of all the fea-girt ifles,
That like to rich and various gems inlay
The unadorned bofom of the deep,
Which he to grace his tributary Gods
By courfe commits to feveral government,
And gives them leave to wear their faphire crowns,
And wield their little tridents : but this Ifle,
The greater! and the bell of all the main,
He quarters to his blue-hair'd deities j
And all this trat that fronts the falling fun
A noble Peer of mickle truft and power
Has in his charge, with temper'd awe to guide
An old, and haughty nation proud in arms:
Where his fair offspring nurs'd in princely lore
Are coming to attend their father's ftate,
And new-intrufted fceptrej but their way
Lies through the perplex'd paths of this drear wood,
The nodding horrour of whofe fhady brows
Threats the forlorn and wand'ring palfengerj
And here their tender age might furfer peril,
But that by quick command from fovereign Jove
I was difpatch'd for their defence and guard j
And liften why, for I will tell you now
What never yet was heard in tale or fong,
From old or modern bard, in hall or bower.
Bacchus, that firft from out the purple grape