Tempe girt by her belts of greenwood ever impending,Left for the Mamonides with frequent dances to worship—Nor is he empty of hand, for bears he tallest of beechesDeracinate, and bays with straight boles lofty and stately,Not without nodding plane-tree nor less the flexible sisterFire-slain Phaëton left, and not without cypresses airy.These in a line wide-broke set he, the Mansion surrounding,So by the soft leaves screened, the porch might flourish in verdure.Follows hard on his track with active spirit Prometheus,Bearing extenuate sign of penalties suffer'd in by-gones.Paid erewhiles what time fast-bound as to every member,Hung he in carkanet slung from the Scythian rocktor.Last did the Father of Gods with his sacred spouse and his offspring,Proud from the Heavens proceed, thee leaving (Phoebus) in loneness,Lone wi' thy sister twin who haunteth mountains of Idrus:For that the Virgin spurned as thou the person of Peleus,Nor Thetis' nuptial torch would greet by act of her presence.