And, fearing to be view'd by envious day,
Their glowing tints unwillingly display.
The youth, while joy sits sparkling in his eyes,
Pants on her neck, and on her bosom dies;
From her smooth cheek nectareous dew he sips,
And all his soul comes breathing to his lips.
But Maia turns her modest eyes away,
And blushes to behold their amorous play.
She looks again; and sees, with sad surprize,
On the clear glass far different scenes arise :
The bower, which late outshone the rosy morn,
O'erhung with weeds she saw, and rough with thorn;
With sting of asps, the leafless plants were wreath'd;
And curling adders gales of venom breath'd:
Low sat the stripling on the faded ground;
And, in a mournful knot, his arms were bound;
His eyes, that shot before a sunny beam,
Now scarcely shed a saddening, dying gleam,
Faint as a glimm'ring taper's wasted light,
Or a dull ray that streaks the cloudy night :
His crystal vase was on the pavement roll'd,
And from the bank was fall'n his cup of gold;
From which, th' envenom'd dregs of deadly hue
Flow'd on the ground, in streams of baleful dew
And, slowly stealing through the wither'd bow'r,
Poison'd each plant, and blasted every flow'r:
Fled were his slaves, and fled his yielding fair,
And each gay phantom was dissolv'd in air;
Whilst in their place was left a ruthless train,
Despair, and grief, remorse, and raging pain.
Aside the damsel turns her weeping eyes,
And sad reflections in her bosom rise;
To whom thus, mildly, speaks the radiant queen :
• Take sage example from this moral scene;
See! how vain pleasures sting the lips they kiss,
How asps are hid beneath the bowers of bliss!
Whilst ever fair the flow'r of temperance blows,
Unchang'd her leaf, and without thorn her rose;
Smiling she darts her glittering branch on high,
And spreads her fragrant blossoms to the sky.
Next, toward the throne she saw a knight* advance;
Erect he stood, and shook a quiv'ring lance;
A fiery dragon on his helmet shone;
And on his buckler beam'd a golden sun;
O'er his broad bosom, blaz'd his jointed mail
With many a gem, and many a shining scale;
He trod the sounding floor with princely mien,
And thus with haughty words address'd the queen :
• Let falling kings beneath my javelin bleed,
And bind my temples with a victor's meed.;
Let every realm that feels the solar ray,
Shrink at my frown, and own my regal sway:
Let Ind's rich banks proclaim my deathless fame,
And trembling Ganges dread my potent name.'
The queen consented to the warrior's pray'r; And his bright banners floated in the air; He bade his darts in steely tempests fly, Flames burst the clouds, and thunder shakes the sky; Death aim'd his lance, earth trembled at his nod, And crimson conquest glow'd where'er he trod.
And now, the damsel, fix'd in deep amaze,
Th' enchanted glass with eager look surveys :
She sees the hero in his dusky tent,
His guards retir'd, his glimm'ring taper spent ;
His spear, vain instrument of dying praise,
On the rich floor, with idle state, he lays;
His gory falchion near his pillow stood,
And stain'd the ground with drops of purple blood;
A busy page his nodding helm unlac'd,
And on the couch his scaly hauberk plac'd :
Now on the bed his weary limbs he throws,
Bath'd in the balmy dew of soft repose :
In dreams he rushes o'er the gloomy field,
He sees new armies fly, new heroes yield:
Warm with the vigorous conflict he appears,
And ev'n in slumber seems to move the spheres.
But lo! the faithless page, with stealing tread,
Advances to the champion's naked head;
With his sharp dagger wounds his bleeding breast,
And steeps his eyelids in eternal rest :
Then cries, (and waves the steel that drops with gore)
The tyrant dies; oppression is no more.'
Now came an aged sire,* with trembling pace;
Sunk were his eyes, and pale his ghastly face;
A ragged weed of dusky hue he wore,
And on his back a ponderous coffer bore.
The queen with faltering speech he thus addrest :
• O, fill with gold thy true adorer's chest!'
• Behold,' said she, and wav'd her pow'rful hand,
Where yon rich hills in glittering order stand:
There load thy coffer with the golden store;
Then bear it full away, and ask no more.'
With eager steps he took his hasty way, Where the bright coin in heaps unnumber'd lay; There, hung enamour'd o'er the gleaming spoil, Scoop'd the gay dross, and bent beneath the toil.
But bitter was his anguish, to behold
The coffer widen, and its sides unfold :
And, every time he heap'd the darling ore,
His greedy chest grew larger than before;
Till, spent with pain, and falling o'er his hoard,
With his sharp steel his maddening breast he gor'd :
On the lov'd heap he cast his closing eye,
Contented on a golden couch to die.
A stripling, with the fair adventure pleas'd, Step'd forward, and the massy coffer seiz'd; But with surprise he saw the stores decay, And all the long-sought treasures melt away: In winding streams the liquid metal roll'd, And through the palace ran a flood of gold.
Next, to the shrine advanc'd a reverend sage,*
Whose beard was hoary with the frost of age;
His few gray locks a sable fillet bound,
And his dark mantle flow'd along the ground:
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