Chapter XXIX

The _Stoick_ felt the deadly stroke,
At first assault their courage was not broke,
They call’d to all the Cobweb aid,
Of rules and precepts, which in store they had,
They bid their hearts stand out,
Bid them be calm and stout;
But all the strength of precepts will not do’t.
They cannot the storms of passions now asswage,
As common men are angry, grieve, and rage.
The Gods are called upon in vain,
The Gods gave no release unto their pain,
The Gods to fear even for themselves began.
For now the sick unto the Temples came,
And brought more than a holy flame,
There at the Altars made their prayer,
They sacrific’d and died there,
A sacrifice not seen before;
That Heaven, onely us’d unto the gore
Of Lambs or Bulls, should now
Loaded with Priests see its own Altars too.