memorization

memorization

Item No. comdagen-6602032538167932349
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nervous arms, No more they sigh, inglorious, to return, But breathe revenge, and for the combat burn. As on some mountain, through the lofty grove, The crackling flames ascend, and blaze above; The fires expanding, as the winds arise, Shoot their long beams, and kindle half the skies: So from the polish'd arms, and brazen shields, A gleamy splendour flash'd along the fields. Not less their number than the embodied cranes, Or milk-white swans in Asius' watery plains. That,

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rites, and hospitable fare; While I the labours of the forge forego, And bid the roaring bellows cease to blow." Then from his anvil the lame artist rose; Wide with distorted legs oblique he goes, And stills the bellows, and (in order laid) Locks in their chests his instruments of trade. Then with a sponge the sooty workman dress'd His brawny arms embrown'd, and hairy breast. With his huge sceptre graced, and red attire, Came halting forth the sovereign of the fire: The monarch's steps two female forms uphold, That moved and breathed in animated gold; To whom was voice, and sense, and science given Of works divine (such wonders are in heaven!) On these supported, with unequal gait, He reach'd the throne where pensive Thetis sate; There placed beside her on the shining frame, He thus address'd the silver-footed dame: "Thee, welcome, goddess! what occasion calls (So long a stranger) to these honour'd walls? 'Tis thine, fair Thetis, the command to lay, And Vulcan's joy and duty to obey." [Illustration: VULCAN AND CHARIS RECEIVING THETIS.] VULCAN AND CHARIS RECEIVING THETIS. To whom the mournful mother thus replies: (The crystal drops stood trembling in her eyes:) "O Vulcan! say, was ever breast divine So pierced with sorrows, so o'erwhelm'd as mine? Of all the goddesses, did Jove prepare For Thetis only such a weight of care? I, only I, of all the watery race By force subjected to a man's embrace, Who, sinking now with age and sorrow, pays The mighty fine imposed on length of days. Sprung from my bed, a godlike hero came, The bravest sure that ever bore the name; Like some fair plant beneath my careful hand He grew, he flourish'd, and he graced the land: To Troy I sent him! but his native shore Never, ah never, shall receive him more; (Even while he lives, he wastes with secret woe;) Nor I, a goddess, can retard the blow! Robb'd of the prize the Grecia