reply
  Framed artful.  Oh unreasonable haste! 395
  What speaks the Thunderer?  If on Ida’s heights. 
  Where all is open and to view exposed
  Thou wilt that we embrace, what must betide,
  Should any of the everlasting Gods
  Observe us, and declare it to the rest? 400
  Never could I, arising, seek again,
  Thy mansion, so unseemly were the deed. 
  But if thy inclinations that way tend,
  Thou hast a chamber; it is Vulcan’s work,
  Our son’s; he framed and fitted to its posts 405
  The solid portal; thither let us his,
  And there repose, since such thy pleasure seems. 
    To whom the cloud-assembler Deity. 
  Fear thou not, Juno, lest the eye of man
  Or of a God discern us; at my word 410
  A golden cloud shall fold us so around,
  That not the Sun himself shall through that veil
  Discover aught, though keenest-eyed of all. 
    So spake the son of Saturn, and his spouse
  Fast lock’d within his arms.  Beneath them earth 415
  With sudden herbage teem’d; at once upsprang
  The crocus soft, the lotus bathed in dew,
  And the crisp hyacinth with clustering bells;
  Thick was their growth, and high above the ground
  Upbore them.  On that flowery couch they lay, 420
  Invested with a golden cloud that shed
  Bright dew-drops all around.[11] His heart at ease,
  There lay the Sire of all, by Sleep and Love
  Vanquish’d on lofty Gargarus, his spouse
  Constraining still with amorous embrace. 425
  Then, gentle Sleep to the Achaian camp
  Sped swift away, with tidings for the ear
  Of earth-encircler Neptune charged; him soon
  He found, and in wing’d accents thus began. 
    Now Neptune, yield the Greeks effectual aid, 430
  And, while the moment lasts of Jove’s repose,
  Make victory theirs; for him in slumbers soft
  I have involved, while Juno by deceit
  Prevailing, lured him with the bait of love. 
    He said, and swift departed to his task 435
  Among the nations; but his tidings urged
  Neptune with still more ardor to assist
  The Danai; he leap’d into the van
  Afar, and thus exhorted them aloud. 
    Oh Argives! yield we yet again the day 440
  To Priameian Hector?  Shall he seize
  Our ships, and make the glory all his own? 
  Such is his expectation, so he vaunts,
  For that Achilles leaves not yet his camp,
  Resentful; but of him small need, I judge, 445
  Should here be felt, could once the rest be roused
  To mutual aid.  Act, then, as I advise. 
  The best and broadest bucklers of the host,
  And brightest helmets put we on, and arm’d
  With longest spears, advance; myself will lead; 450