  She made the story of the old debate Which she with Neptune did for Athens try: Twelve gods do sit around in royal state, And Jove in midst with awful majesty, To judge the strife between them stirrÉd late; Each of the gods, by his like visnomy Is to be known, but Jove above them all, By his great looks and power imperial. Before them stands the god of seas in place, Claiming that seacoast city as his right; And strikes the rocks with his three-forkÉd mace; Whenceforth issues a warlike steed in sight, That all the gods, which saw his wondrous might, Did surely deem the victory his due; But seldom seen, forejudgment proveth true. Then to herself she gives her Ægide shield, And steel-head spear, and morion on her head Such as she oft is seen in warlike field: Then sets she forth, how with her weapon dread She smote the ground, the which straightforth did yield A fruitful olive tree, with berries spread, That all the gods admired: then, all the story She compassed with a wreath of olives hoary. Amongst these leaves she made a butterfly, With excellent device and wondrous slight, Flutt’ring among the olives wantonly, That seemed to live, so like it was in sight: The velvet nap which on his wings doth lie, The silken down with which his back is dight, His broad outstretchÉd horns, his hairy thighs, His glorious colors, and his glistening eyes. Bas-relief showing Minerva with a young boy and a bearded man
A.B. Thorwaldsen. Minerva, Prometheus, and Man. |
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