To yours, O Venus, and your Son's control,
Whose glittering pinions speed his flight,
The Gods incline their stubborn soul,
And mortals yielding to resistless might.
For o'er land, and stormy main,
Love, is borne, who can restrain
By more than magic art
Each furious impulse of the heart:
Savage whelps on mountains bred,
Monsters in the ocean fed,
All who on earth behold the solar ray,
And man, his mild behests obay.
For you, O Venus, you alone
Sit on an unrivall'd throne,
By each duteous votary fear'd,
As a mighty Queen rever'd.