Classic Poem

The gods on thrones celestial seated,
By Jove with bowls of nectar heated,
All on Mount Edgecumbe turn'd their eyes:
“That place is mine,” great Neptune cries;
“Behold how proud o'er all the main
“Those stately turrets seem to reign!
“No views so grand on earth you see!
“The master too belongs to me;
“I grant him my domain to share;
“I bid his hand my trident bear.”
“The sea is your's but mine the land,”
Pallas replies. “By me were plann'd
“Those tow'rs, that hospital, those docks,
“That fort which crowns those island rocks:
“The lady too is of my choir,
“I taught her hand to touch the lyre,
“With ev'ry charm her mind I grac'd,
“I gave her prudence, knowledge, taste.”
“Hold, Madam!” interrupted Venus,
“The lady must be shar'd between us;
“And surely mine is yonder grove,
“So fine, so dark, so fit for love,
“Trees such as in th' Idalian glade
“Or Cyprian lawn my palace shade.”
Then Oreads, Dryads, Naiads, came,
Each nymph alledg'd her lawful claim.
But Jove to finish the debate
Thus spoke, and what he speaks is fate;
“Nor god nor goddess great or small
“That dwelling his or her's may call;
“I made Mount Edgecumbe for you all.”