"Some grot or graffy bank fhall be my bier, Thus while fhe mourns, o'erwhelm'd in deep despair, She rends her filken robes, and golden hair: Her fatal ring, the cause of all her woes, On a hard rock with mad'ning rage fhe throws; Sudden defcends the genius of the ring, And drops celeftial fragrance from his wing; Then fpeaks, "Who calls me from the realms of day? Ask, and I grant; command, and I obey.” She drank his melting words with ravish'd ears, And stop'd the gushing current of her tears; Then kifs'd his skirts, that like a ruby glow'd, And faid, "O bear me to my fire's abode." Straight o'er her eyes a fhady veil arose, And all her foul was lull'd in ftill repose. E 2 By By this with flow'rs the rofy-finger'd dawn While these fad founds her trembling ears invade And now in filence o'er the gloomy land She faw advance a flowly-winding band; Their cheeks were veil'd, their robes of mournful hue O'erpow'r'd O'erpow'r'd with bursting joy she runs to meet And told with joyful heart her moral tale; ECK'D with fresh garlands, like a rural bride, D' And with the crimson ftreamer's waving pride, A wanton bark was floating o'er the main, And feem'd with scorn to view the azure plain: Smooth were the waves, and scarce a whifp'ring gale High on the burnish'd deck a gilded throne With orient pearls and beaming diamonds fhone; On |