hreshold stepp'd of Semele, nor chas'd
Her darkening veil, till like an ancient dame
She stood display'd. White hairs her temples strew'd;
Deep furrows plough'd her skin; her bending limbs
Quiver'd beneath her weight; her tremulous voice
Exhausted age betray'd: she stood to view
Old Beroe, from Epidaurus come,
The nurse of Semele. With tedious tales
She garrulous amus'd:--when in her turn
Listening, the name of Jupiter she heard
She sigh'd, and said,--"May he be truly Jove!
"But age is still suspicious. Chastest beds
"Have been by these pretended gods defil'd:
"For if the deity supreme he be,
"Why comes he thus disguis'd? If true his love,
"Why prove it not? Urge thou an anxious wish
"To clasp him in his might, in such a sort,
"As lofty Juno he embraces;--round
"Begirt with all the ensigns of his power."
Thus Juno artful, Semele's desires
Apt moulded to her mind. From Jove she prays
A nameless boon: the ready god consents;--
"Chuse what thou wilt, nor least denial dread:
"To prove my faith, I call the Stygian streams
"To witness, terror of the god of gods."
Joy'd at her fatal prayer's too large success;
And by her lover's prompt compliance, doom'd
To sure destruction;--"This," said she, "I wish;--
"When with me next you love's delights enjoy,
"Appear as when Saturnia fills your arms."
Fain would the god have stopp'd her mouth:--too soon
The hasty words found entrance to his ears.
Deep mourn'd he. Equal now the fates forbid,
The wish retracted, or the oath absolv'd.
Sorrowing he seeks the lofty heaven: his nod
Dark rolling clouds collects: here form black showers;
And hurricanes; and flashing lightenings mixt;
Thunders; and his inevitable bolt:
Anxious he strives with all his power to damp,
The fierceness of his flames: nor arm'd him now,
With those dread fires that to the earth dash'd down
The hundred-handed foe:--too powerful they.
He chose a milder thunder;--less of rage,
Of fire, and fury, had the Cyclops given
The mass when forg'd; a second-rated bolt.
Clad in mild glory thus, the dome he seeks
Of Semele;--her mortal frame too weak,
To bear th' ethereal shock, fierce scorcht she sunk,
Beneath the nuptial grant. Th' imperfect babe,
Snatcht from his mother's smoking womb, was sew'd
(If faith the tale deserves) within his thigh;
There to complete the period of his growth.
Ino, his aunt maternal, then r