BOOK XXI.-3

1583 Words

(Forgetful of my wrongs, and of thy own,) And guard the race of proud Laomedon! Hast thou forgot, how, at the monarch's prayer, We shared the lengthen'd labours of a year? Troy walls I raised (for such were Jove's commands), And yon proud bulwarks grew beneath my hands: Thy task it was to feed the bellowing droves Along fair Ida's vales and pendant groves. But when the circling seasons in their train Brought back the grateful day that crown'd our pain, With menace stern the fraudful king defied Our latent godhead, and the prize denied: Mad as he was, he threaten'd servile bands, And doom'd us exiles far in barbarous lands.273 [pg 386] Incensed, we heavenward fled with swiftest wing, And destined vengeance on the perjured king. Dost thou, for this, afford proud Ilion grace,

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