And now th' almighty Father of the gods Convenes a council in the bless'd abodes. Far in the bright recesses of the skies, High o'er the rolling heavens, a mansion lies, Whence, far below, the gods at once survey The realms of rising and declining day, And all th' extended space of earth, and air, and sea. Full in the midst, and on a starry throne, 280 The Majesty of heaven superior shone: Serene he look'd, and gave an awful nod, And all the trembling spheres confess'd the god. At Jove's assent the deities around In solemn state the consistory crown'd. Next a long order of inferior powers Ascend from hills, and plains, and shady bowers; Those from whose urns the rolling rivers flow, And those that give the wandering winds to blow: Here all their rage and ev'n their murmurs cease, 290 And sacred silence reigns, and universal peace. A shining synod of majestic gods Gilds with new lustre the divine abodes: Heaven seems improved with a superior ray, And the bright arch reflects a double day. The monarch then his solemn silence broke, The still creation listen'd while he spoke; Each sacred accent bears eternal weight, And each irrevocable word is fate. 'How long shall man the wrath of Heaven defy, 300 And force unwilling vengeance from the sky? O race confederate into crimes, that prove Triumphant o'er th' eluded rage of Jove! This wearied arm can scarce the bolt sustain, And unregarded thunder rolls in vain: Th' o'erlabour'd Cyclops from his task retires, Th' AEolian forge exhausted of its fires. For this, I suffer'd Phoebus' steeds to stray, And the mad ruler to misguide the day, When the wide earth to heaps of ashes turn'd, 310 And Heaven itself the wandering chariot burn'd: For this my brother of the watery reign Released the impetuous sluices of the main; But flames consumed, and billows raged in vain. Two races now, allied to Jove, offend; To punish these, see Jove himself descend. The Theban kings their line from Cadmus trace, From godlike Perseus those of Argive race. Unhappy Cadmus' fate who does not know, And the long series of succeeding woe? 320 How oft the Furies, from the deeps of night, Arose, and mix'd with men in mortal fight; Th' exulting mother stain'd with filial blood, The savage hunter and the haunted wood? The direful banquet why should I proclaim, And crimes that grieve the trembling gods to name? Ere I recount the sins of these profane, The sun would sink into the western main, And, rising, gild the radiant east again. Have we not seen (the blood of Laius shed) 330 The murdering son ascend his parent's bed, Through violated nature force his way, And stain the sacred womb where once he lay? Yet now in darkness and despair he groans, And for the crimes of guilty fate atones; His sons with scorn their eyeless father view, Insult his wounds, and make them bleed anew. Thy curse, O OEdipus! just Heaven alarms, And sets th' avenging Thunderer in arms.