Then call’d a general council of the gods, Who, summon’d, issue from their bless’d abodes, And fill the assembly with a shining train. A way there is in heaven’s expanded plain, Which, when the skies are clear, is seen below, And mortals by the name of milky know; The groundwork is of stars; through which the road Lies open to the Thunderer’s abode; The gods of greater nations dwell around, And, on the right and left, the palace bound; The commons where they can; the nobler sort, With winding doors wide open, front the court. This place, as far as earth with heaven may vie, I dare to call the Louvre of the sky. When all were placed in seats distinctly known, And he, their father, had assumed the throne, Upon his ivory sceptre first he lean’d, Then shook his head, that shook the firmament: Air, earth, and seas, obey’d the almighty nod, And, with a general fear, confess’d the god; At length, with indignation, thus he broke His awful silence, and the powers bespoke: