asses all in speed,
A nobler prey his youthful vows implore,
The tawny lion or the foaming boar.

But murky clouds are gath'ring round the pole-,
In hollow murmur distant thunders roll;
205 The hail, the rain a mingled tempest pour,
Whole rivers swelling down the mountain roar,
The trembling youths of Troy, the Tyrian train,
Cytherea's grandson, scatter'd o'er the plain,
All fly the storm, and in one dark retreat
210 The Tyrian Queen and Trojan Hero meet.
Strait nuptial Juno, gives the fatal sign;
Pale flames the torch, and trembling Earth the shrine:
Night spread the veil;--and to the vow they swore
The murmuring air, ill omen'd witness bore.
215 The frighted Nymphs along the mountain height,
In doleful cries proclaim the genial rite.
That hour her death and all her sorrows wrought;
Then fame and honor vanish'd from her thought;
No more she struggles with a secret flame,
220 The crime is veil'd in wedlock's specious name.

Soon thro' the Lybian towns, Fame blew the deed;
Fame, that outstrips all other ills in speed,
That feeds on motion, strengthens as she flies,
225 Weak, timid first, but soon of monstrous size,
Her feet on earth, amid the clouds her head.

With Heav'n incens'd, her mother Earth 'tis said,
This sister added to the Giant brood,
With wings, with feet, with dreadful speed endu'd.
Huge horrid monster!----Ev'ry plume she wears
230 A watching eye conceal'd beneath it bears,
And strange to tell--on ev'ry feather hung
A gaping ear--a never ceasing tongue.
Sleep never enter'd yet those glaring eyes;
All night 'twixt earth and heav'n she buzzing flies;
235 All day sits watchful on the turrets height,
Or palace roof, the babbling town to fright.
Falsehood and truth, she spreads with equal real,
To gaping crouds rejoicing to reveal
What is, what was, and what has never been.
240 AEneas fled from Troy;--The Tyrian queen,
Her bed, her sceptre, with an exile shares;
And now forgetful of all other cares,
With shameful passion blindly led astray,
In love and joy they waste the hours away.

245 This, all around Fame glories to diffuse,
And to Iarba next her flight pursues,
To fan the flame that in his bosom glows.
To Jove himself, his birth the monarch owes