My noble steeds, affrighted, too,

Like lightning, through the billows, flew;

Nor could, the hellish note, divine,

That creak'd, terrific, o'er the brine;

And, even, I, myself, was shock'd,

And from my chariot, nearly knock'd

Into the boisterous, boiling sea,

By that astounding minstrelsy.

And, now, by all the gods above,

By all that men or angels love,

I call for thunderbolts or fire,

To dash this scoundrel and his lyre!"

Great Jupiter, with horror struck,

In wrath, the heavenly mansion shook;

And order'd Vulcan, quick, to forge

A thunderbolt, tremendous large,

[Pg 15]

With which he smote the venal ghost,

And cast him into hell, to roast!

Now, aught —— —— ever wrote,

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