hosts o'erturns. Swift at the scourge the ethereal coursers fly, While the smooth chariot cuts the liquid sky. Heaven's gates spontaneous open to the powers,(155) Heaven's golden gates, kept by the winged Hours;(156) Commission'd in alternate watch they stand, The sun's bright portals and the skies command, Involve in clouds the eternal gates of day, Or the dark barrier roll with ease away. The sounding hinges ring on either side The gloomy volumes, pierced with light, divide. The chariot mounts, where deep in ambient skies, Confused, Olympus' hundred heads arise; Where far apart the Thunderer fills his throne, O'er all the gods superior and alone. There with her snowy hand the queen restrains The fiery steeds, and thus to Jove complains: "O sire! can no resentment touch thy soul? Can Mars rebel, and does no thunder roll? What lawless rage on yon forbidden plain, What rash destruction! and what heroes slain! Venus, and Phoebus with the dreadful bow, Smile on the slaughter, and enjoy my woe. Mad, furious power! whose unrelenting mind No god can govern, and no justice bind. Say, mighty father! shall we scourge this pride, And drive from fight the impetuous homicide?" To whom assenting, thus the Thunderer said: "Go! and the great Minerva be thy aid. To tame the monster-god Minerva knows, And oft afflicts his brutal breast with woes." He said; Saturnia, ardent to obey, Lash'd her white steeds along the aerial way Swift down the steep of heaven the chariot rolls, Between the expanded earth and starry poles Far as a shepherd, from some point on high,(157) O'er the wide main extends his boundless eye, Through such a space of air, with thundering sound, At every leap the immortal coursers bound Troy now they reach'd and touch'd those banks divine, Where silver Simois and Scamander join There Juno stopp'd, and (her fair steeds unloosed) Of air condensed a vapour circumfused For these,