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lies dead.
XXXV. "Then suddenly, as back the doors are torn,
The gloomy den stands open, and the prey,
The stolen oxen, and the spoils forsworn,
Are bared to heaven, and by the heels straightway
He drags the grisly carcase to the day.
All, thronging round, with hungry gaze admire
The monster. Lost in wonder and dismay
They mark the eyes, late terrible with ire,
The face, the bristly breast, the jaw's extinguished fire.
XXXVI. "Henceforth they solemnise this day divine,
Their glad posterity from year to year,
Potitius first, and the Pinarian line,
Preserve the praise of Hercules; and here
This altar named 'the Greatest' did they rear.
(Greatest 'twill be for ever). Come then, all,
And give such worth due honour. Wreathe your hair,
And pass the wine-bowl merrily, and call
Each on our common God, the guardian of us all."
XXXVII. He spake; the God's own poplar, fleckt with white,
Hung, twining o'er his brows. His right hand bore
The sacred bowl. All, gladdening, hail the rite,
And pour libations, and the Gods adore.
'Twas evening, and the Western star once more
Sloped towards Olympus. Forth Potitius came,
Leading the priests, girt roughly, as of yore,
With skins of beasts, and bearing high the flame.
Fresh, dainty gifts they bring, the second course to frame.
XXXVIII. Next came the Salians, dancing as they sung
Around the blazing altars. Poplar crowned
Their brows; a double chorus, old and young,
Chant forth the glories and the deeds renowned
Of Hercules; how, potent to confound
His stepdame's hate, he crushed the serpents twain;
What towns in war he levelled to the ground,
Troy and OEchalia; how with infinite pain
Eurystheus' tasks he sped, and Juno's fates were vain:
XXXIX. "Oh thou, unconquered, whose resistless hand
Smote the twin giants of the cloud-born crew,
Pholus, Hylaeus; and the Cretan land
Freed from its monster; and