Quick, blushing as abash'd, she half withdrew: One hand a bough of flowering myrtle waved. One graceful spread, where, scarce conceal'd from view, Soft through the parting robe her bosom heaved. 30 "Offspring of Jove supreme! beloved of Heaven! Attend." Thus spoke the Empress of the Skies. "For know, to thee, high-fated prince, 'tis given Through the bright realms of Fame sublime to rise, 31 Beyond man's boldest hope; if nor the wiles Of Pallas triumph o'er the ennobling thought; Nor Pleasure lure with artificial smiles To quaff the poison of her luscious draught. 32 When Juno's charms the prize of beauty claim, Shall aught on earth, shall aught in heaven contend? Whom Juno calls to high triumphant fame, Shall he to meaner sway inglorious bend? 33 Yet lingering comfortless in lonesome wild, Where Echo sleeps 'mid cavern'd vales profound, The pride of Troy, Dominion's darling child, Pines while the slow hour stalks in sullen round. 34 Hear thou, of Heaven unconscious! From the blaze Of glory, stream'd from Jove's eternal throne, Thy soul, O mortal, caught the inspiring rays That to a god exalt Earth's raptured son. 35 Hence the bold wish, on boundless pinion borne, That fires, alarms, impels the maddening soul; The hero's eye, hence, kindling into scorn, Blasts the proud menace, and defies control. 36 But, unimproved, Heaven's noblest boons are vain, No sun with plenty crowns the uncultured vale: Where green lakes languish on the silent plain, Death rides the billows of the western gale. 37 Deep in yon mountain's womb, where the dark cave Howls to the torrent's everlasting roar, Does the rich gem its flashy radiance wave? Or flames with steady ray the imperial ore? 38 Toil deck'd with glittering domes yon champaign wide, And wakes yon grove-embosom'd lawns to joy, And rends the rough ore from the mountain's side, Spangling with starry pomp the thrones of Troy. 39 Fly these soft scenes. Even now, with playful art, Love wreathes the flowery ways with fatal snare; And nurse the ethereal fire that warms thy heart, That fire ethereal lives but by thy care. 40 Lo! hovering near on dark and dampy wing, Sloth with stern patience waits the hour assign'd, From her chill plume the deadly dews to fling, That quench Heaven's beam, and freeze the cheerless mind. 41 Vain, then, the enlivening sound of Fame's alarms, For Hope's exulting impulse prompts no more: Vain even the joys that lure to Pleasure's arms, The throb of transport is for ever o'er. 42 O who shall then to Fancy's darkening eyes Recall the Elysian dreams of joy and light? Dim through the gloom the formless visions rise, Snatch'd instantaneous down the gulf of night. 43