IRON AGE

COme forth, come forth, do we not hear What purpose, and, how worth our fear, The King of gods hath on us? He is not of the iron breed That would, though Fate did help the deed Let shame in so upon us. Rise, rise then up, thou Grandame vice Of all my issue, Avarice, Bring with thee fraud and slander, Corruption with the golden hands Or any subtle ill, that stands To be a more commander. Thy boys, Ambition, Pride, and Scorn, Force, Rapine, and thy babe last born, Smooth Treachery call hither, Arm Folly forth, and Ignorance, And teach them all our Pyrrhick dance, We may triumph together, Upon this enemy so great, Whom, if our forces can defeat, And but this once bring under, We are the Master's of the skies, Where all the wealth, height, power, lies, The sceptre, and the thunder. Which of you would not in a war Attempt the price of any scar, To keep your own states even? But, here, which of you is that he, Would not himself the weapon be, To ruin JOVE and heaven? About it then, and let him feel, The iron-age is turned to steel, Since he begins to threat her: And though the bodies here are less Then were the Giants; he'll confess Our malice is far greater.