From blacken’d brakes,[[65]] the choak’d winds toss
The ashes of the golden goss;
While great with power, yon Wretch[[66]] derides
And boasts the mischief, which he guides.
Thus, when, in unsuspecting peace,
Rush’d Scythia’s hordes on fertile Greece,
Mars, their grim god, whom heaven abhors,
Urg’d with fell taunts to wasteful wars.
Valley! where Marebrook, all unveil’d,[[67]]
Her slender line, far shining, trail’d,