University of Virginia Library

No sooner in her silver chariot rose
The ruddy morn, than sated with repose
The prince address'd his host; the God awoke,
And leaping from his couch, thus kindly spoke.
This early call, my lord, that chides my stay,
Requires my thanks, and I with joy obey.
Like you I long to reach the blissful coast,
Hate the slow night, and mourn the moments lost.
The bright Rosinda, loveliest of the fair
That crowd the princess' court, demands my care;
Ev'n now with fears and jealousies o'erborn
Upbraids, and calls me cruel and forsworn.
What sweet rewards on all my toils attend,
Serving at once my mistress and my friend;
Just to my love and to my duty too,
Well paid in her, well pleas'd in pleasing you.
This said, he led him to the cavern gate,
And clasp'd him in his arms, and pois'd his weight;
Then ballancing his body here and there,
Stretch'd forth his agile wings, and launch'd in air;
Swift as the fiery meteor from on high
Shoots to its goal, and gleams athwart the sky.
Here with quick fan his lab'ring pinions play;
There glide at ease along the liquid way;
Now lightly skim the plain with even flight;
Now proudly soar above the mountain's height.

Spiteful Detraction, whose envenom'd hate
Sports with the suff'rings of the good and great,
Spares not our prince, but with opprobrious sneer
Arraigns him of the heinous sin of fear;
That he, so tried in arms, whose very name
Infus'd a secret panic where it came,
Ev'n he, as high above the clouds he flew,
And spied the mountains less'ning to the view,
Nought round him but the wide expanded air,
Helpless, abandon'd to a stripling's care,
Struck with the rapid whirl, and dreadful height,
Confess'd some faint alarm, some little fright.

The friendly God, who instantly divin'd
The terrors that possess'd his fellow's mind,
To calm his troubled thoughts, and cheat the way,
Describ'd the nations that beneath them lay,
The name, the climate, and the soil's increase,
Their arms in war, their government in peace;
Shew'd their domestic arts, their foreign trade,
What int'rest they pursued, what leagues they made.
The sweet discourse so charm'd Porsenna's ear,
That lost in joy he had no time for fear.

From Scandinavia's cold inclement waste
O'er wide Germania's various realms they past,
And now on Albion's fields suspend their toil,
And hover for awhile, and bless the soil.
O'er the gay scene the prince delighted hung,
And gaz'd in rapture, and forgot his tongue;
Till bursting forth at length. Behold, cried he,
The promis'd isle, the land I long'd to see;
Those plains, those vales, and fruitful hills declare
My queen, my charmer must inhabit there.
Thus rav'd the monarch, and the gentle guide,
Pleas'd with his error, thus in smiles replied.

I must applaud, my lord, the lucky thought;
Ev'n I, who know th'original, am caught,
And doubt my senses, when I view the draught.
The slow-ascending hill, the lofty wood
That mantles o'er its brow, the silver flood
Wand'ring in mazes thro' the flow'ry mead,
The herd that in the plenteous pastures feed,
And ev'ry object, every scene excites
Fresh wonder in my soul, and fills with new delights:
Dwells cheerful Plenty there, and learned Ease,
And Art with Nature seems at strife to please.
There Liberty, delightful goddess, reigns,
Gladdens each heart, and gilds the fertile plains;
There firmly seated may she ever smile,
And show'r her blessings o'er her fav'rite isle!
But see, the rising sun reproves our stay.
He said, and to the ocean wing'd his way,
Stretching his course to climates then unknown,
Nations that swelter in the burning zone.
There in Peruvian vales a moment staid,
And smooth'd his wings beneath the citron shade;
Then swift his oary pinions plied again,
Cross'd the new world, and sought the Southern main;
Where many a wet and weary league o'erpast,
The wish'd for paradise appear'd at last.

With force abated now they gently sweep
O'er the smooth surface of the shining deep;
The Dryads hail'd them from the distant shore,
The Nereids play'd around, the Tritons swam before,
While soft Favonius their arrival greets,
And breathes his welcome in a thousand sweets.

Nor pale disease, nor health-consuming care,
Nor wrath, nor foul revenge can enter there;
No vapour's foggy gloom imbrowns the sky;
No tempests rage, no angry lightnings fly;
But dews, and soft-refreshing airs are found,
And pure ætherial azure shines around.
Whate'er the sweet Sabæan soil can boast,
Or Mecca's plains, or India's spicy coast;
What Hybla's hills, or rich Œbalia's fields,
Or flow'ry vale of fam'd Hymettus yields;
Or what of old th'Hesperian orchard grac'd;
All that was e'er delicious to the taste,
Sweet to the smell, or lovely to the view,
Collected there with added beauty grew.
High-tow'ring to the heav'ns the trees are seen,
Their bulk immense, their leaf for ever green;
So closely interwove, the tell-tale sun
Can ne'er descry the deeds beneath them done,
But where by fits the sportive gales divide
Their tender tops, and fan the leaves aside.
Like a smooth carpet at their feet lies spread
The matted grass, by bubbling fountains fed;
And on each bough the feather'd choir employ
Their melting notes, and nought is heard but joy.
The painted flow'rs exhale a rich perfume,
The fruits are mingled with eternal bloom,
And Spring and Autumn hand in hand appear,
Lead on the merry months, and join to cloath the year.
Here, o'er the mountain's shaggy summit pour'd,
From rock to rock the tumbling torrent roar'd,
While beauteous Iris in the vale below
Paints on the rising fumes her radiant bow.
Now through the meads the mazy current stray'd,
Now hid its wand'rings in the myrtle shade;
Or in a thousand veins divides its store,
Visits each plant, refreshes ev'ry flow'r;
O'er gems and golden sands in murmurs flows,
And sweetly soothes the soul, and lulls to soft repose.

If hunger call, no sooner can the mind
Express her will to needful food inclin'd,
But in some cool recess, or op'ning glade,
The seats are plac'd, the tables neatly laid,
And instantly convey'd by magic hand
In comely rows the costly dishes stand;
Meats of all kinds that nature can impart,
Prepar'd in all the nicest forms of art.
A troop of sprightly nymphs array'd in green,
With flow'ry chaplets crown'd, come scudding in;
With fragrant blossoms these adorn the feast,
Those with officious zeal attend the guest;
Beneath his feet the silken carpet spread,
Or sprinkle liquid odours o'er his head.
Others in ruby cups with roses bound
Delightful! deal the sparkling nectar round;
Or weave the dance, or tune the vocal lay;
The lyres resound, the merry minstrels play,
Gay health, and youthful joys o'erspread the place,
And swell each heart, and triumph in each face.
So when embolden'd by the vernal air,
The busy bees to blooming fields repair;
For various use employ their chymic pow'r;
One culls the snowy pounce, one sucks the flow'r;
Again to diff'rent works returning home,
Some steeve the honey, some erect the comb;
All for the general good in concert strive,
And ev'ry soul's in motion, ev'ry limb's alive.

And now descending from his flight, the God
On the green turf releas'd his precious load;
There, after mutual salutations past,
And endless friendship vow'd, they part in haste;
Zephyr impatient to behold his love,
The prince in raptures wand'ring thro' the grove;
Now skipping on, and singing as he went,
Now stopping short to give his transports vent;
With sudden gusts of happiness oppress'd,
Or stands entranc'd, or raves like one possess'd;
His mind afloat, his wand'ring senses quite
O'ercome with charms, and frantic with delight;
From scene to scene by random steps conveyed,
Admires the distant views, explores the secret shade,
Dwells on each spot, with eager eye devours
The woods, the lawns, the buildings, and the bow'rs;
New sweets, new joys at every glance arise,
And ev'ry turn creates a fresh surprize.

Close by the borders of a rising wood,
In a green vale a crystal grotto stood;
And o'er its side, beneath a beechen shade,
In broken falls a silver fountain play'd.
Hither, attracted by the murm'ring stream,
And cool recess, the pleas'd Porsenna came,
And on the tender grass reclining chose
To wave his joys awhile, and take a short repose.
The scene invites him, and the wanton breeze
That whispers thro' the vale, the dancing trees,
The warbling birds, and rills that gently creep,
All join their music to prolong his sleep.

The princess for her morning walk prepar'd;
The female troops attend, a beauteous guard.
Array'd in all her charms appear'd the fair;
Tall was her stature, unconfin'd her air;
Proportion deck'd her limbs, and in her face
Lay love inshrin'd, lay sweet attractive grace
Temp'ring the aweful beams her eyes convey'd,
And like a lambent flame around her play'd.
No foreign aids, by mortal ladies worn,
From shells and rocks her artless charms adorn;
For grant that beauty were by gems increas'd,
'Tis render'd more suspected at the least;
And foul defects, that wou'd escape the sight,
Start from the piece, and take a stronger light.
Her chesnut hair in careless rings around
Her temples wav'd, with pinks and jes'mine crown'd,
And, gather'd in a silken cord behind,
Curl'd to the waist, and floated in the wind;
O'er these a veil of yellow gause she wore,
With amaranths and gold embroider'd o'er.
Her snowy neck half naked to the view
Gracefully fell; a robe of purple hue
Hung loosely o'er her slender shape, and tried
To shade those beauties, that it cou'd not hide.

The damsels of her train with mirth and song
Frolick behind, and laugh and sport along.
The birds proclaim their queen from ev'ry tree;
The beasts run frisking thro' the groves to see;
The Loves, the Pleasures, and the Graces meet
In antic rounds, and dance before her feet.
By whate'er fancy led, it chanc'd that day
They thro' the secret valley took their way,
And to the crystal grot advancing spied
The prince extended by the fountain's side.

He look'd as, by some skilful hand express'd,
Apollo's youthful form retir'd to rest;
When with the chace fatigued he quits the wood
For Pindus' vale, and Aganippe's flood;
There sleeps secure, his careless limbs display'd
At ease, encircled by the laurel shade;
Beneath his head his sheaf of arrows lie,
His bow unbent hangs negligently by.
The slumb'ring prince might boast an equal grace,
So turn'd his limbs, so beautiful his face.

Waking he started from the ground in haste,
And saw the beauteous choir around him plac'd;
Then, summoning his senses, ran to meet
The queen, and laid him humbly at her feet.
Deign, lovely princess, to behold, said he,
One, who has travers'd all the world to see
Those charms, and worship thy divinity:
Accept thy slave, and with a gracious smile
Excuse his rashness, and reward his toil.
Stood motionless the fair with mute surprize,
And read him over with admiring eyes;
And while she stedfast gaz'd, a pleasing smart
Ran thrilling thro' her veins, and reach'd her heart.
Each limb she scann'd, consider'd ev'ry grace,
And sagely judg'd him of the phœnix' race.
An animal like this she ne'er had known,
And thence concluded there could be but one;
The creature too had all the phœnix' air;
None but the phœnix cou'd appear so fair.
The more she look'd, the more she thought it true,
And call'd him by that name, to shew she knew.

O handsome phœnix, for that such you are
We know; your beauty does your breed declare;
And I with sorrow own thro' all my coast
No other bird can such perfection boast;
For Nature form'd you single and alone:
Alas! what pity 'tis there is but one!
Were there a queen so fortunate to shew
An aviary of charming birds like you,
What envy wou'd her happiness create
In all, who saw the glories of her state!

The prince laugh'd inwardly, surpriz'd to find
So strange a speech, so innocent a mind.
The compliment indeed did some offence
To reason, and a little wrong'd her sense;
He cou'd not let it pass, but told his name,
And what he was, and whence, and why he came;
And hinted other things of high concern
For him to mention, and for her to learn;
And she 'ad a piercing wit, of wond'rous reach
To comprehend whatever he cou'd teach.
Thus hand in hand they to the palace walk,
Pleas'd and instructed with each other's talk.

Here, shou'd I tell the furniture's expence,
And all the structure's vast magnificence,
Describe the walls of shining saphire made,
With emerald and pearl the floors inlaid,
And how the vaulted canopies unfold
A mimic heav'n, and flame with gems and gold;
Or how Felicity regales her guest,
The wit, the mirth, the music, and the feast;
And on each part bestow the praises due,
'Twould tire the writer, and the reader too.
My amorous tale a softer path pursues:
Love and the happy pair demand my Muse.
O cou'd her art in equal terms express
The lives they lead, the pleasures they possess!
Fortune had ne'er so plenteously before
Bestow'd her gifts, nor can she lavish more.
'Tis heav'n itself, 'tis ecstacy of bliss,
Uninterrupted joy, untir'd excess;
Mirth following mirth the moments dance away;
Love claims the night, and friendship rules the day.

Their tender care no cold indiff'rence knows;
No jealousies disturb their sweet repose;
No sickness, no decay; but youthful grace,
And constant beauty shines in either face.
Benumming age may mortal charms invade,
Flow'rs of a day that do but bloom and fade;
Far diff'rent here, on them it only blows
The lilly's white, and spreads the blushing rose;
No conquest o'er those radiant eyes can boast;
They like the stars shine brighter in its frost;
Nor fear its rigour, nor its rule obey;
All seasons are the same, and ev'ry month is May.

Alas! how vain is happiness below!
Man soon or late must have his share of woe;
Slight are his joys, and fleeting as the wind;
His griefs wound home, and leave a sting behind.
His lot distinguish'd from the brute appears
Less certain by his laughter than his tears;
For ignorance too oft our pleasure breeds,
But sorrow from the reas'ning soul proceeds.

If man on earth in endless bliss cou'd be,
The boon, young prince, had been bestow'd on thee.
Bright shone thy stars, thy Fortune flourish'd fair,
And seem'd secure beyond the reach of care,
And so might still have been, but anxious thought
Has dash'd thy cup, and thou must taste the draught.

It so befel, as on a certain day
This happy couple toy'd their time away,
He ask'd how many charming hours were flown,
Since on her slave her heav'n of beauty shone.
Should I consult my heart, cried he, the rate
Were small, a week wou'd be the utmost date:
But when my mind reflects on actions past,
And counts its joys, time must have fled more fast.
Perhaps I might have said, three months are gone.
Three months! replied the fair, three months alone!
Know that three hundred years have roll'd away,
Since at my feet the lovely phœnix lay.
Three hundred years! re-echo'd back the prince,
A whole three hundred years compleated since
I landed here! O! whither then are flown
My dearest friends, my subjects, and my throne?
How strange, alas! how alter'd shall I find
Each earthly thing, each scene I left behind!
Who knows me now? on whom shall I depend
To gain my rights? where shall I find a friend?
My crown perhaps may grace a foreign line,
A race of kings, that know not me nor mine;
Who reigns may wish my death, his subjects treat
My claim with scorn, and call their prince a cheat.
Oh had my life been ended as begun!
My destin'd stage, my race of glory run,
I shou'd have died well pleas'd; my honour'd name
Had liv'd, had flourish'd in the list of fame;
Reflecting now my mind with horror sees
The sad survey, a scene of shameful ease,
The odious blot, the scandal of my race,
Scarce known, and only mention'd with disgrace.

The fair beheld him with impatient eye,
And red with anger made this warm reply.
Ungrateful man! is this the kind return
My love deserves; and can you thus with scorn
Reject what once you priz'd, what once you swore
Surpass'd all charms, and made ev'n glory poor?
What gifts have I bestow'd, what favours shewn!
Made you partaker of my bed and throne;
Three centuries preserv'd in youthful prime,
Safe from the rage of death, and injuries of time,
Weak arguments! for glory reigns above
The feeble ties of gratitude and love.
I urge them not, nor wou'd request your stay;
The phantom glory calls, and I obey;
All other virtues are regardless quite,
Sunk and absorb'd in that superior light.
Go then, barbarian, to thy realms return,
And shew thyself unworthy my concern;
Go, tell the world, your tender heart cou'd give
Death to the princess, by whose care you live.

At this a deadly pale her cheeks o'erspread,
Cold trembling seiz'd her limbs, her spirits fled;
She sunk into his arms: the prince was mov'd,
Felt all her griefs, for still he greatly lov'd.
He sigh'd, he wish'd he could forget his throne,
Confine his thoughts, and live for her alone;
But glory shot him deep, the venom'd dart
Was fix'd within, and rankled at his heart;
He cou'd not hide its wounds, but pin'd away
Like a sick flow'r, and languish'd in decay.
An age no longer like a month appears,
But ev'ry month becomes a hundred years.

Felicity was griev'd, and cou'd not bear
A scene so chang'd, a sight of so much care.
She told him with a look of cold disdain,
And seeming ease, as women well can feign,
He might depart at will; a milder air
Wou'd mend his health; he was no pris'ner there;
She kept him not, and wish'd he ne'er might find
Cause to regret the place he left behind;
Which once he lov'd, and where he still must own,
He had at least some little pleasure known.

If these prophetic words awhile destroy
His peace, the former ballance it in joy.
He thank'd her for her kind concern, but chose
To quit the place, the rest let heav'n dispose.
For Fate, on mischiefs bent, perverts the will,
And first infatuates whom it means to kill.

Aurora now, not, as she wont to rise,
In gay attire ting'd with a thousand dies,
But sober-sad in solemn state appears,
Clad in a dusky veil bedew'd with tears.
Thick mantling clouds beneath her chariot spread,
A faded wreath hangs drooping from her head.
The sick'ning sun emits a feeble ray,
Half drown'd in fogs, and struggling into day.
Some black event the threat'ning skies foretel.
Porsenna rose to take his last farewel.
A curious vest the mournful princess brought,
And armour by the Lemnian artist wrought;
A shining lance with secret virtue stor'd,
And of resistless force a magic sword;
Caparisons and gems of wond'rous price,
And loaded him with gifts and good advice;
But chief she gave, and what he most wou'd need,
The fleetest of her stud, a flying steed.
The swift Grifippo, said th'afflicted fair,
(Such was the courser's name) with speed shall bear,
And place you safely in your native air;
Assist against the foe, with matchless might
Ravage the field, and turn the doubtful fight;
With care protect you till the danger cease,
Your trust in war, your ornament in peace.
But this, I warn, beware; whate'er shall lay
To intercept your course, or tempt your stay,
Quit not your saddle, nor your speed abate,
Till safely landed at your palace gate.
On this alone depends your weal or woe;
Such is the will of Fate, and so the Gods foreshew.
He in the softest terms repaid her love,
And vow'd, nor age, nor absence shou'd remove
His constant faith, and sure she cou'd not blame
A short divorce due to his injur'd fame.
The debt discharg'd, then shou'd her soldier come
Gay from the field, and flush'd with conquest, home;
With equal ardour her affection meet,
And lay his laurels at his mistress' feet.
He ceas'd, and sighing took a kind adieu;
Then urg'd his steed; the fierce Grifippo flew;
With rapid force outstripp'd the lagging wind,
And left the blissful shores, and weeping fair behind;
Now o'er the seas pursued his airy flight,
Now scower'd the plains, and climb'd the mountain's height.

Thus driving on at speed the prince had run
Near half his course, when, with the setting sun,
As thro' a lonely lane he chanc'd to ride,
With rocks and bushes fenc'd on either side,
He spied a waggon full of wings, that lay
Broke and o'erturn'd across the narrow way.
The helpless driver on the dirty road
Lay struggling, crush'd beneath th'incumbent load.
Never in human shape was seen before
A wight so pale, so feeble, and so poor.
Comparisons of age would do him wrong,
For Nestor's self, if plac'd by him, were young.
His limbs were naked all, and worn so thin,
The bones seem'd starting thro' the parchment skin,
His eyes half drown'd in rheum, his accents weak,
Bald was his head, and furrow'd was his cheek.

The conscious steed stopp'd short in deadly fright,
And back recoiling stretch'd his wings for flight.
When thus the wretch with supplicating tone,
And rueful face, began his piteous moan,
And, as he spake, the tears ran trickling down.
O gentle youth, if pity e'er inclin'd
Thy soul to gen'rous deeds, if e'er thy mind
Was touch'd with soft distress, extend thy care
To save an old man's life, and ease the load I bear.
So may propitious heav'n your journey speed,
Prolong your days, and all your vows succeed.

Mov'd with the pray'r the kind Porsenna staid,
Too nobly-minded to refuse his aid,
And, prudence yielding to superior grief,
Leap'd from his steed, and ran to his relief;
Remov'd the weight, and gave the pris'ner breath,
Just choak'd, and gasping on the verge of death.
Then reach'd his hand, when lightly with a bound
The grizly spectre vaulting from the ground,
Seiz'd him with sudden gripe, th'astonish'd prince
Stood horror-struck, and thoughtless of defence.

O king of Russia, with a thund'ring sound
Bellow'd the ghastly fiend, at length thou'rt found.
Receive the ruler of mankind, and know,
My name is Time, thy ever-dreaded foe.
These feet are founder'd, and the wings you see
Worn to the pinions in pursuit of thee;
Thro' all the world in vain for ages sought,
But Fate has doom'd thee now, and thou art caught.
Then round his neck his arms he nimbly cast,
And seiz'd him by the throat, and grasp'd him fast;
Till forc'd at length the soul forsook its seat,
And the pale breathless corse fell bleeding at his feet.

Scarce had the cursed spoiler left his prey,
When, so it chanc'd, young Zephyr pass'd that way;
Too late his presence to assist his friend,
A sad, but helpless witness of his end.
He chafes, and fans, and strives in vain to cure
His streaming wounds; the work was done too sure.
Now lightly with a soft embrace uprears
The lifeless load, and bathes it in his tears;
Then to the blissful seats with speed conveys,
And graceful on the mossy carpet lays
With decent care, close by the fountain's side,
Where first the princess had her phœnix spied.
There with sweet flow'rs his lovely limbs he strew'd,
And gave a parting kiss, and sighs and tears bestow'd.

To that sad solitude the weeping dame,
Wild with her loss, and swoln with sorrow, came.
There was she wont to vent her griefs, and mourn
Those dear delights that must no more return.
Thither that morn with more than usual care
She sped, but O what joy to find him there!
As just arriv'd, and weary with the way,
Retir'd to soft repose her hero lay.
Now near approaching she began to creep
With careful steps, loth to disturb his sleep;
Till quite o'ercome with tenderness she flew,
And round his neck her arms in transport threw.
But, when she found him dead, no tongue can tell
The pangs she felt; she shriek'd, and swooning fell.
Waking, with loud laments she pierc'd the skies,
And fill'd th'affrighted forest with her cries.
That fatal hour the palace gates she barr'd,
And fix'd around the coast a stronger guard;
Now rare appearing, and at distance seen,
With crowds of black misfortunes plac'd between;
Mischiefs of ev'ry kind, corroding care,
And fears, and jealousies, and dark despair.
And since that day (the wretched world must own
These mournful truths by sad experience known)
No mortal e'er enjoy'd that happy clime,
And ev'ry thing on earth submits to Time.