Too weakly indolent to strive with pain, 165
And bravely by resisting conquer Fate,
Try Circe’s arts; and in the tempting bowl
Of poison’d Nectar sweet oblivion drink.
Struck by the powerful charm, the gloom dissolves
In empty air; Elysium opens round. 170
A pleasing phrenzy buoys the lighten’d soul,
And sanguine hopes dispel your fleeting care;
And what was difficult, and what was dire,
Yields to your prowess and superior stars: