“There Tantalus along the Stygian bounds Pours out deep groans (with groans all hell resounds); E’en in the circling floods refreshment craves, And pines with thirst amidst a sea of waves; When to the water he his lip applies, Back from his lip the treacherous water flies. Above, beneath, around his hapless head, Trees of all kinds delicious fruitage spread; There figs, sky-dyed, a purple hue disclose, Green looks the olive, the pomegranate glows. There dangling pears exalting scents unfold. And yellow apples ripen into gold; The fruit he strives to seize; but blasts arise, Toss it on high, and whirl it to the skies. “I turn’d my eye, and as I turn’d survey’d A mournful vision! the Sisyphian shade; With many a weary step, and many a groan, Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone; The huge round stone, resulting with a bound, Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground. Again the restless orb his toil renews, Dust mounts in clouds, and sweat descends in dews. “Now I the strength of Hercules behold, A towering spectre of gigantic mould, A shadowy form! for high in heaven’s abodes Himself resides, a god among the gods; There in the bright assemblies of the skies. He nectar quaffs, and Hebe crowns his joys. Here hovering ghosts, like fowl, his shade surround, And clang their pinions with terrific sound; Gloomy as night he stands, in act to throw The aërial arrow from the twanging bow. Around his breast a wondrous zone is roll’d, Where woodland monsters grin in fretted gold; There sullen lions sternly seem to roar, The bear to growl to foam the tusky boar; There war and havoc and destruction stood, And vengeful murder red with human blood. Thus terribly adorned the figures shine, Inimitably wrought with skill divine. The mighty good advanced with awful look, And, turning his grim visage, sternly spoke: “‘O exercise in grief! by arts refined; O taught to bear the wrongs of base mankind! Such, such was I! Still toss’d from care to care, While in your world I drew the vital air! E’en I, who from the Lord of Thunders rose, Bore toils and dangers, and a weight of woes; To a base monarch still a slave confined, (The hardest bondage to a generous mind!) Down to these worlds I trod the dismal way, And dragg’d the three-mouth’d dog to upper day E’en hell I conquer’d, through the friendly aid Of Maia’s offspring, and the martial maid. “Thus he, nor deign’d for our reply to stay, But, turning, stalk’d with giant-strides away.