Neptune (mythology)

"It is poetically remarked, a thousand times has it been repeated, but history proves it without a metaphor by the experience of centuries, that The Trident of Neptune is the Sceptre of the World."

"Now Neptune's sullen month appears, The angry night cloud swells with tears, And savage storms infuriate driven, Fly howling in the face of heaven! Now, now, my friends, the gathering gloom With roseate rays of wine illume: And while our wreaths of parsley spread Their fadeless foliage round our head, We'll hymn th' almighty power of wine, And shed libations on his shrine!"

"Over the mountains, And over the waves, Over the fountains, And under the graves; Over the floods that are deepest, Which do Neptune obey; Over the rocks that are steepest, Love will find out the way."

"'His nature is too noble for the world': He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for's power to thunder."