And not returning till the northern star
Had rolled through dusky air and lost its sheen,
Her mother made excuses quite provoking,
Knitting at the time, a worsted stocking.
Juno-Lucina did not go--and why?
She anxious wished to wash her sacred head.
Menippus, Jove's chief taster, standing by
For the disastrous Fates excuses made.
They had much tow to spin, and lint to dry,
And they were also busy baking bread.
The cellarman, Silenus, kept away,
To water the domestics' wine, that day.
On starry benches sit the famous warriors
Of the immortal kingdom, in a ring;
Now drums and cymbals, echoing to the barriers,
Announce the coming of the gorgeous king;
A hundred pages, valets, napkin-carriers
Attend, and their peculiar offerings bring.
And after them, armed with his club so hard,
Alcides, captain of the city guard.
With Jove's broad hat and spectacles arrived
The light-heeled Mercury; in his hand he bore
A sack, in which, of other means deprived,
He damned poor mortals' prayers, some million score;
Those he disposed in vessels, well contrived,
Which graced his father's cabinet of yore;
And, wont attention to all claims to pay,
He regularly signed them twice a day.
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