fever'd Jealousy with livid hue,
And falt'ring steps unwinds Suspicion's clew;
Arm'd with the blood-stain'd instruments of death,
There, Rage and Hatred spread their poison'd breath;
55 While Malice, brooding over secret guile,
Repays their labour with a treach'rous smile;
Remorse, that never sleeps, brings up the rear,
Hates his own deed, and drops a barren tear.
There, Love, capricious child, had chose to reign,
60 And pains and pleasures were his motely train;
Cruel and kind by turns, but ever blind,
The dear delight, the torment of mankind,
Thro' ev'ry camp, thro' ev'ry senate glides,
Commands the warrior, o'er the judge presides;
65 Still welcome to the heart, he still deceives,
Pants in each bosom, thro' all nature lives.

High on a throne of endless conquest vain,
Love bids the monarch drag his servile chain;
And glorying less to please, than to destroy,
70 In scenes of woe exults with savage joy.

Him, Discord sought, by Rage relentless led,
The timid pleasures knew the fiend and fled;
Her eyes were fire, fresh blood her forehead dy'd,
Around she whirl'd her flaming torch, and cry'd:
75 "Why sleeps my brother o'er the poison'd dart?
His pow'r forgetting o'er the human heart?
Did ever Love the flames of Discord waft,
Or Discord's venom tinge Love's deadly shaft?
Did I for Love, bid madd'ning worlds engage?
80 Rise then--avenge my insult, serve my rage;
Behold a conqu'ring king my pow'r defy!
Crush'd by his hand, behold my serpents die!
See dove-ey'd Mercy smiling by his side,
Thro' fields of civil rage his faithful guide;
85 See to his standard ev'ry heart return,
While I my falling empire vainly mourn:
Let him, with her, obtain one conquest more,
Paris is his, and Discord's reign is o'er:
Her smiles will gild the triumph which he gains,
90 Then what is left for me but hopeless chains!
But Love shall wind this torrent from its course,
And soil his glories in their limpid sourse;
Spite of the virtues which adorn his mind,
In am'rous chains that haughty spirit bind.
95 Can you forget what heroes once you charm'd,
Whom at her feet fair Omphale disarm'd?
Whose purple sail before Augustus flew,
Who lost the world for Egypt's queen and you?
To these