der and dismay
They mark the eyes, late terrible with ire,
The face, the bristly breast, the jaw's extinguished fire.

XXXVI. "Henceforth they solemnise this day divine,
Their glad posterity from year to year,
Potitius first, and the Pinarian line,
Preserve the praise of Hercules; and here
This altar named 'the Greatest' did they rear.
(Greatest 'twill be for ever). Come then, all,
And give such worth due honour. Wreathe your hair,
And pass the wine-bowl merrily, and call
Each on our common God, the guardian of us all."

XXXVII. He spake; the God's own poplar, fleckt with white,
Hung, twining o'er his brows. His right hand bore
The sacred bowl. All, gladdening, hail the rite,
And pour libations, and the Gods adore.
'Twas evening, and the Western star once more
Sloped towards Olympus. Forth Potitius came,
Leading the priests, girt roughly, as of yore,
With skins of beasts, and bearing high the flame.
Fresh, dainty gifts they bring, the second course to frame.

XXXVIII. Next came the Salians, dancing as they sung
Around the blazing altars. Poplar crowned
Their brows; a double chorus, old and young,
Chant forth the glories and the deeds renowned
Of Hercules; how, potent to confound
His stepdame's hate, he crushed the serpents twain;
What towns in war he levelled to the ground,
Troy and OEchalia; how with infinite pain
Eurystheus' tasks he sped, and Juno's fates were vain:

XXXIX. "Oh thou, unconquered, whose resistless hand
Smote the twin giants of the cloud-born crew,
Pholus, Hylaeus; and the Cretan land
Freed from its monster; and in Nemea slew
The lion! Styx hath trembled at thy view,
And Cerberus, when, smeared with gore, he lay
On bones half-mumbled in his darksome mew.
Thee not Typhoeus, when in armed array
He towered erect, could daunt, nor grisly shapes dismay.

XL. "Prompt was thy wit, when, powerless to prevail,
Around thee twined, the beast of Lerna's fen
Hissed with the legion of its heads. O hail,
True son of Jove, the praise of mortal men,
And Heaven's new glory. Hither turn thy ken,
And cheer thy votaries." So with heart and will
They chant his praise, nor less the monster's den,
And Cacus, breathing flames. The loud notes fill
The sacred grove around, and echo to the hill.

XLI. The rites thus ended, to the town they fare.
In front, the good Ev