human
O Jove! good Jove! he cries, o'erwhelmed with shame, And must not Jove himself, _O Jove!_ exclaim? 40 Or dost thou think the impious wish forgiven, Because, when thunder shakes the vault of heaven, The bolt innoxious flies o'er thee and thine, To rend the forest oak and mountain pine? --Because, yet livid from the lightning's seath, 45 Thy mouldering corpse (a monument of wrath) Lies in no blasted grove, for public care To expiate with sacrifice and prayer; Must, therefore, Jove, unsceptred and unfeared, Give to thy ruder mirth his foolish beard? 50 What bribe hast thou to win the Powers divine, Thus, to thy nod? The lungs and lights of swine. Lo! from his little crib, the grandam hoar, Or aunt, well versed in superstitious lore, Snatches the babe; in lustral spittle dips 55 Her middle finger, and anoints his lips And forehead:--
gpt
Charms of potency, she cries,
human
To break the influence of evil eyes! The spell complete, she dandles high in air Her starveling hope; and breathes a humble prayer, 60 That heaven would only tender to his hands All Crassus' houses, all Licinius' lands!--
gpt
Let every gazer by his charms be won, And kings and queens aspire to call him son: Contending virgins fly his smiles to meet, 65 And roses spring where'er he sets his feet! Insane of soul--but I, O Jove, am free. Thou knowest, I trust no nurse with prayers for me: In mercy, then, reject each fond demand, Though, robed in white, she at thy altar stand. 70 This begs for nerves to pain and sickness steeled, A frame of body that shall slowly yield To late old age:--'Tis well, enjoy thy wish.-- But the huge platter, and high-seasoned dish, Day after day the willing gods withstand, 75 And dash the blessing from their opening hand. That sues for wealth: the laboring ox is slain, And frequent victims woo the
human
gpt
O crown my hearth with plenty and with peace, And give my flocks and herds a large increase! 80 Madman! how can he, when, from day to day, Steer after steer in offerings melt away?-- Still he persists; and still new hopes arise, With harslet and with tripe, to storm the skies.
human
Now swell my harvests! now my fields! now, now, 85 It comes--it comes--auspicious to my vow!