And those fleet wings, for strength and speed re
Scarce rear th' inactive lumber from the ground.
Mysterious arts a second time create
The bird, prophetic of approaching fate.
Pil'd on a heap Sabæan herbs he lays,
Parch'd by his sire the Sun's intensest rays;
The pile design'd to form his funeral scene
He wraps in covers of a fragrant green,
And bids his spicy heap at once become
A grave destructive, and a teeming womb.
On the rich bed the dying wonder lies,
Imploring Phoebus with persuasive cries,
To dart upon him in collected rays,
And new-create him in a deadly blaze.
The god beholds the suppliant from afar,
And stops the progress of his heavenly car. "O thou," says he,, "whom harmless fires shall
Thy age the flame to second youth shall turn,
An infant's cradle is thy funeral urn.
Thou, on whom Heaven has fix'd th' ambiguous
To live by ruin, and by death to bloom,
Thy life, thy strength, thy lovely form renew,
And with fresh beauties doubly charm the
Thus speaking, 'midst the aromatic bed
A golden beam he tosses from his head;
Swift as desire, the shining ruin flies,
And straight devours the willing sacrifice,
Who hastes to perish in the fertile fire,
Sink into strength, and into life expire.
In flames the circling odours mount on high, Perfume the air, and glitter in the sky,
The Moon and Stars, amaz'd, retard their flight,
And Nature startles at the doubtful sight;
For, whilst the pregnant urn with fury glows,
The goddess labours with a mother's throes,
Yet joys to cherish, in the friendly flames,
The noblest product of the skill she claims.
Th' enlivening dust its head begins to rear,
And on the ashes sprouting plumes appear;
In the dead bird reviving vigour reigns,
And life returning revels in his veins:
A new-born Phenix starting from the flame,
Obtains at once a son's, and father's name;
And the great change of double life displays,
In the short moment of one transient blaze.
On his new pinions to the Nile he bends,
And to the gods his parent urn commends,
To Egypt bearing, with majestic pride,
The balmy nest, where first he liv'd and dy’d.
Birds of all kinds admire th' unusual sight,
And grace the triumph of his infant flight;
In crowds unnumber'd round their chief they fly,
Oppress the air, and cloud the spacious sky;
Nor dares the fiercest of the winged race
Obstruct his journey through th' ethereal space;
The hawk and eagle useless wars forbear,
Forego their courage, and consent to fear;
The feather'd nations humble homage bring,
And bless the gaudy flight of their ambrosial king.
Less glittering pomp does Parthia's monarch
yield,
Commanding legions to the dusty field;
Though sparkling jewels on his helm abound,
And royal gold his awful head surround;
Though rich embroidery paint his purple vest,
And his steed bound in costly trappings drest,
Pleas'd in the battle's dreadful van to ride,
In graceful grandeur, and imperial pride.
Fam'd for the worship of the Sun, there stands
A sacred fane in Egypt's fruitful lands,
Hewn from the Theban mountain's rocky womb
An'hundred columns rear the marble dome;
Hither, 'tis said, he brings the precious load,
A grateful offering to the beamy god;
Upon whose altar's consecrated blaze
The seeds and relics of himself he lays,
Whence flaming incense makes the temple
shine,
And the glad altars breathe perfumes divine,
The wafted smell to far Pelusium flies,
To cheer old Ocean, and enrich the skies,
With nectar's sweets to make the nations smile,
And scent the seven-fold channels of the Nile.
Thrice happy Phenix! Heaven's peculiar care
Has made thyself thyself's surviving heir;
By Death thy deathless vigour is supply'd,
Which sinks to ruin all the world beside ;
Thy age, not thee, assisting Phoebus burns,
And vital flames light up thy funeral urns.
Whate'er events have been, thy eyes survey,
And thou art fixt, while ages roll away;
Thou saw'st when raging Ocean burst his bed, O'ertopp'd the mountains, and the earth o'er
When the rash youth inflam'd the high abodes,
Scorch'd up the skies, and scar'd the deathless gods.
When Nature ceases, thou shalt still remain,
Nor second Chaos bound thy endless reign;
Fate's tyrant laws thy happier lot shall brave,
Baffle Destruction, and elude the Grave.
TO MRS. LOWTHER ON HER MARRIAGE.
THE greatest swain that treads th' Arcadian grove,
Our shepherds envy, and our virgins love,
His charming nymph, his softer fair obtains,
The bright Diana of our flowery plains;
He, 'midst the graceful, of superior grace,
And she the loveliest of the loveliest race.
Thy fruitful influence guardian Juno, shed, And crown the pleasures of the genial bed: Raise thence, their future joy, a smiling heir, Brave as the father, as the mother fair.
Well may'st thou shower thy choicest gifts on those
Who boldly rival thy most hated foes;
The vigorous bridegroom with Alcides vies,
And the fair bride has Cytherea's eyes.
WITH A PRESENT OF FLOWERS.
THE fragrant painting of our flowery fields,
The choicest stores that youthful summer yields,
Strephon to fair Elisa hath convey'd,
The sweetest garland to the sweetest maid.
O cheer the flowers, my fair, and let them rest
On the Elysium of thy snowy breast,
And there regale the smell, and charm the view,
With richer odours, and a lovelier hue.
Learn hence, nor fear a flatterer in the flower,
Thy form divine, and beauty's matchless power:
Faint, near thy cheeks, the bright carnation glows,
And thy ripe lips outblush the opening rose:
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