adorn'd, with art diversified, (The laboured veil her heavenly fingers wove,) Flows on the pavement of the court of Jove. Now heaven's dread arms her mighty limbs invest, Jove's cuirass blazes on her ample breast; Deck'd in sad triumph for the mournful field, O'er her broad shoulders hangs his horrid shield, Dire, black, tremendous! Round the margin roll'd, A fringe of serpents hissing guards the gold: Here all the terrors of grim War appear, Here rages Force, here tremble Flight and Fear, Here storm'd Contention, and here Fury frown'd, And the dire orb portentous Gorgon crown'd. The massy golden helm she next assumes, That dreadful nods with four o'ershading plumes; So vast, the broad circumference contains A hundred armies on a hundred plains. The goddess thus the imperial car ascends; Shook by her arm the mighty javelin bends, Ponderous and huge; that when her fury burns, Proud tyrants humbles, and whole 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