There Actian Phoebus, gazing on the scene, Bent his dread bow.

Egypt, Arabia fled, And India turned in terror.

There, the queen Calls to the winds; behold, the sails are spread.
Her, pale with thoughts of dying, through the dead The waves and zephyrs--so the gold expressed-- Bear onward.

Yonder, to his sheltering bed Nile, sorrowing, calls the fugitives to rest, Unfolds his winding robes, and bares his azure breast.
XCIII.

There, Caesar sacred to his gods proclaims Three hundred temples, each a stately fane.
Behold his triple triumph.