As through a lonely lane he chanc'd to ride,
With rocks and bushes fenc'd on either fide,
He fpied a waggon full of wings, that lay
Broke and o'erturn'd across the narrow way.
The helpless driver on the dirty road
Lay ftruggling, crush'd beneath th' incumbent load.
Never in human shape was seen before
A wight fo pale, fo feeble, and fo poor.
Comparisons of age would do him wrong,
For Neftor's felf, if plac'd by him, were young.
His limbs were naked all, and worn fo thin,
The bones feem'd starting through 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 fhort in deadly fright,
And back recoiling stretch'd his wings for flight.
When thus the wretch with fupplicating 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 foul to gen'rous deeds, if e'er thy mind
Was touch'd with foft diftrefs, extend thy care
To fave an old man's life, and eafe the load I bear.
So may propitious heav'n your journey speed,
Prolong your days, and all your vows fucceed.
Mov'd with the pray'r the kind Porfenna ftaid,
Too nobly-minded to refuse his aid,
And, prudence yielding to fuperior grief,
Leap'd from his steed, and ran to his relief;
Remov'd the weight, and gave the pris'ner breath,
Juft choak'd, and gafping 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-ftruck, and thoughtlefs of defence.
O king of Ruffia, with a thund'ring found
Bellow'd the ghaftly 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 fee
Worn to the pinions in pursuit of thee;
Through all the world in vain for ages fought,
But Fate has doom'd thee now, and thou art caught.
Then round his neck his arms he nimbly cast,
And feiz'd him by the throat, and grasp'd him fast
'Till forc'd at length the foul forfook its feat,
And the pale breathless corse fell bleeding at his feet.
Scarce had the curfed fpoiler left his prey,
When, fo it chanc'd, young Zephyr pass'd that way;
Too late his presence to affift his friend,
A fad, but helpless witness of his end.
He chafes, and fans, and strives in vain to cure
His ftreaming wounds; the work was done too fure.
Now lightly with a foft embrace uprears
The lifeless load, and bathes it in his tears;
Then to the blifsful feats with speed conveys,
And graceful on the moffy carpet lays
With decent care, close by the fountain's fide,
Where first the princess had her phoenix fpied.
There with fweet flow'rs his lovely limbs he ftrew'd,
And gave a parting kifs, and fighs and tears beftow'd.
To that fad folitude the weeping dame,
Wild with her lofs, and fwoln with forrow, came.
There was fhe wont to vent her griefs, and mourn
Thofe dear delights that must no more return.
Thither that morn with more than ufual care
She fped, but oh what joy to find him there!
As just arriv'd, and
Retir'd to foft repofe her hero lay.
Now near approaching she began to creep
With careful steps, loth to disturb his fleep;
'Till quite o'ercome with tenderness she flew,
And round his neck her arms in tranfport threw.
But, when she found him dead, no tongue can tell
The pangs fhe felt; fhe fhriek'd, and fwooning fell.
Waking, with loud laments fhe pierc'd the skies,
And fill'd th' affrighted forest with her cries.
That fatal hour the palace gates the barr'd,
And fix'd around the coaft a stronger guard;
Now rare appearing, and at distance seen,
With crowds of black misfortunes plac'd between ;
Mischiefs of every kind, corroding care,
And fears, and jealousies, and dark despair.
And fince that day (the wretched world must own
These mournful truths by fad experience known)
No mortal e'er enjoy'd that happy clime,
And every thing on earth fubmits to Time.
HEN tepid breezes fann'd the air, And violets perfum'd the glade, Penfive and grave my charming fair Beneath yon fhady lime was laid.
Flourish, said I, thofe favour'd boughs,
And ever footh the pureft flames!:
Witness to none but faithful vows!
Wounded by none but faithful names !
Yield every tree that crowns the grove
To this which pleas'd my wandering dear!
Range where you will, ye bands of love,
Ye still shall seem to revel here.
Her fair reclining head sustain'd, Betray'd the felt fome fresh alarm;
And thus the meaning fmile explain'd.
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