“Now in the time’s full process forth she brings
Jove’s dread vicegerents in two future kings;
O’er proud Iolcos Pelias stretch’d his reign,
And godlike Neleus ruled the Pylian plain: 
Then, fruitful, to her Cretheus’ royal bed
She gallant Pheres and famed Aeson bred;
From the same fountain Amythaon rose,
Pleased with the din of scar; and noble shout of foes.

“There moved Antiope, with haughty charms,
Who bless’d the almighty Thunderer in her arms: 
Hence sprung Amphion, hence brave Zethus came,
Founders of Thebes, and men of mighty name;
Though bold in open field, they yet surround
The town with walls, and mound inject on mound;
Here ramparts stood, there towers rose high in air,
And here through seven wide portals rush’d the war.

“There with soft step the fair Alcmena trod,
Who bore Alcides to the thundering god: 
And Megara, who charm’d the son of Jove,
And soften’d his stern soul to tender love.

“Sullen and sour, with discontented mien,
Jocasta frown’d, the incestuous Theban queen;
With her own son she join’d in nuptial bands,
Though father’s blood imbrued his murderous hands
The gods and men the dire offence detest,
The gods with all their furies rend his breast;
In lofty Thebes he wore the imperial crown,
A pompous wretch! accursed upon a throne. 
The wife self-murder’d from a beam depends,
And her foul soul to blackest hell descends;
Thence to her son the choicest plagues she brings,
And the fiends haunt him with a thousand stings.

“And now the beauteous Chloris I descry,
A lovely shade, Amphion’s youngest joy! 
With gifts unnumber’d Neleus sought her arms,
Nor paid too dearly for unequall’d charms;
Great in Orchomenos, in Pylos great,
He sway’d the sceptre with imperial state. 
Three gallant sons the joyful monarch told,
Sage Nestor, Periclimenus the bold,
And Chromius last; but of the softer race,
One nymph alone, a myracle of grace. 
Kings on their thrones for lovely Pero burn;
The sire denies, and kings rejected mourn. 
To him alone the beauteous prize he yields,
Whose arm should ravish from Phylacian fields
The herds of Iphyclus, detain’d in wrong;
Wild, furious herds, unconquerably strong! 
This dares a seer, but nought the seer prevails,
In beauty’s cause illustriously he fails;
Twelve moons the foe the captive youth detains
In painful dungeons, and coercive chains;
The foe at last from durance where he lay,
His heart revering, give him back to day;
Won by prophetic knowledge, to fulfil
The steadfast purpose of the Almighty will.

“With graceful port advancing now I spied,
Leda the fair, the godlike Tyndar’s bride: 
Hence Pollux sprung, who wields the furious sway
The deathful gauntlet, matchless in the fray;
And Castor, glorious on the embattled plain,
Curbs the proud steeds, reluctant to the rein: 
By turns they visit this ethereal sky,
And live alternate, and alternate die: 
In hell beneath, on earth, in heaven above,
Reign the twin-gods, the favourite sons of Jove.