The fatal day, th’ appointed hour, is come, When wrathful Jove’s irrevocable doom Transfers the Trojan state to Grecian hands.
But we, descended from your sacred line, Entitled to your heav’n and rites divine, Are banish’d earth; and, for the wrath of one, Remov’d from Latium and the promis’d throne.
For twice five days the good old seer withstood Th’ intended treason, and was dumb to blood, Till, tir’d, with endless clamors and pursuit Of Ithacus, he stood no longer mute; But, as it was agreed, pronounc’d that I Was destin’d by the wrathful gods to die.
But now the prince, who saw the wild increase Of wounds, commands the combatants to cease, And bounds Entellus’ wrath, and bids the peace.
He, for my sake, the raging ocean tried, And wrath of Heav’n, my still auspicious guide, And bore beyond the strength decrepid age supplied.
Nor with less rage Euryalus employs The wrathful sword, or fewer foes destroys; But on th’ ignoble crowd his fury flew; He Fadus, Hebesus, and Rhoetus slew.
The wrathful god then plunges from above, And, where in thickest waves the sparkles drove, There lights; and wades thro’ fumes, and gropes his way, Half sing’d, half stifled, till he grasps his prey.
Wake, son of Venus, from thy pleasing dreams; And, when the setting stars are lost in day, To Juno’s pow’r thy just devotion pay; With sacrifice the wrathful queen appease: Her pride at length shall fall, her fury cease.
Wrath, Terror, Treason, Tumult, and Despair (Dire faces, and deform’d) surround the car; Friends of the god, and followers of the war.
Latinus, sunk in sorrow, finds too late, A foreign son is pointed out by fate; And, till Aeneas shall Lavinia wed, The wrath of Heav’n is hov’ring o’er his head.
Love, anguish, wrath, and grief, to madness wrought, Despair, and secret shame, and conscious thought Of inborn worth, his lab’ring soul oppress’d, Roll’d in his eyes, and rag’d within his breast.
In heav’n the Dirae call’d, and still at hand, Before the throne of angry Jove they stand, His ministers of wrath, and ready still The minds of mortal men with fears to fill, Whene’er the moody sire, to wreak his hate On realms or towns deserving of their fate, Hurls down diseases, death and deadly care, And terrifies the guilty world with war.
Mars could in mutual blood the Centaurs bathe, And Jove himself gave way to Cynthia’s wrath, Who sent the tusky boar to Calydon; (What great offense had either people done?
Then thus he call’d aloud, inflam’d with wrath: "Mortal, whate’er, who this forbidden path In arms presum’st to tread, I charge thee, stand, And tell thy name, and bus’ness in the land.
This comfort of thy dire misfortune take: The wrath of Heav’n, inflicted for thy sake, With vengeance shall pursue th’ inhuman coast, Till they propitiate thy offended ghost, And raise a tomb, with vows and solemn pray’r; And Palinurus’ name the place shall bear."
The wrathful youth, disdaining the relief, With intermitting sobs thus vents his grief: "The care, O best of fathers, which you take For my concerns, at my desire forsake.
Then, groaning from the bottom of his breast, He heav’d for wind, and thus his wrath express’d: "You, Drances, never want a stream of words, Then, when the public need requires our swords.
Then, rous’d anew to wrath, he loudly cries (Flames, while he spoke, came flashing from his eyes) "Traitor, dost thou, dost thou to grace pretend, Clad, as thou art, in trophies of my friend?
Now all things to their utmost issue tend, Push’d by the Fates to their appointed While leave was giv’n thee, and a lawful hour For vengeance, wrath, and unresisted pow’r, Toss’d on the seas, thou couldst thy foes distress, And, driv’n ashore, with hostile arms oppress; Deform the royal house; and, from the side Of the just bridegroom, tear the plighted bride: Now cease at my command."
There are no more uses of "wrath" in the book.
Show samples from other sources
She could hardly contain her wrath when she learned he had betrayed her.