Grave was his port, yet shew'd a bold neglect,
And fill'd the young beholder with respect;
Time's envious hand had plough'd his wrinkled face,
Yet on those wrinkles sat superior grace;
Still full of fire appear'd his vivid eye,
Darted quick beams, and seem'd to pierce the sky:
At length, with gentle voice and look serene,
He wav'd his hand, and thus address'd the queen.
Twice forty winters tip my beard with snow,
And age's chilling gusts around me blow :
In early youth, by contemplation led,
With high pursuits my flatter'd thoughts were fed;
To nature first my labours were confin'd,
And all her charms were open'd to my mind;
Each flower that glisten'd in the morning dew,
And every shrub that in the forest grew :
From earth to heaven I cast my wond'ring eyes,
Saw suns unnumber'd sparkle in the skies,
Mark'd the just progress of each rolling sphere,
Describ'd the seasons, and reform'd the year.
At length sublimer studies I began,
And fix'd my level'd telescope on man;
Knew all his powers, and all his passions trac'd, d.
What virtue rais'd him, and what vice debas'd:
But when I saw his knowledge so confin'd,
So vain his wishes, and so weak his mind,
His soul, a bright obscurity at best,
And rough with tempests his afflicted breast,
His life a flower, ere evening sure to fade,
His highest joys, the shadow of a shade;
To thy fair court I took my weary way,
Bewail my folly, and heaven's laws obey,
Confess my feeble mind for prayers unfit,
And to my maker's will my soul submit :
Great empress of yon orb that rolls below,
On me the last best gift of heaven bestow.'
He spoke: a sudden cloud his senses stole,
And thickening darkness swam o'er all his soul;
His vital spark her earthly cell forsook,
And into air her fleeting progress took.
Now, from the throng a deafening sound was heard, And all at once their various prayers prefer'd; The goddess, wearied with the noisy crowd, Thrice wav'd her silver wand, and spoke aloud : • Our ears no more with vain petitions tire, But take unheard whate'er you first desire.' She said: each wish'd, and what he wish'd obtain'd; And wild confusion in the palace reign'd.
But Maia, now grown senseless with delight, Cast on an emerald ring her roving sight;
And, ere she could survey the rest with care,
Wish'd on her hand the precious gem to wear.
Sudden the palace vanish'd from her sight,
And the gay fabric melted into night;
But, in its place, she view'd with weeping eyes
Huge rocks around her, and sharp cliffs arise :
She sat deserted on the naked shore,
Saw the curl'd waves, and heard the tempest roar;
Whilst on her finger shone the fatal ring,
A weak defence from hunger's pointed sting,
From sad remorse, from comfortless depair,
And all the painful family of care!
Frantic with grief her rosy cheek she tore,
And rent her locks, her darling charge no more :
But, when the night his raven wing had spread,
And hung with sable every mountain's head,
Her tender limbs were numb'd with biting cold,
And round her feet the curling billows roll'd;
With trembling arms a rifted crag she grasp'd,
And the rough rock with hard embraces clasp'd.
While thus she stood, and made a piercing moan, By chance her emerald touch'd the rugged stone; That moment gleam'd from heaven a golden ray, And taught the gloom to counterfeit the day :
A winged youth, for mortal eyes too fair,
Shot, like a meteor, through the dusky air;
His heavenly charms o'ercame her dazzled sight,
And drown'd her senses in a flood of light;
His sunny plumes, descending, he display'd,
And, softly, thus address'd the mournful maid :
Say, thou, who dost yon wondrous ring possess, What cares disturb thee, or what wants oppress; To faithful ears disclose thy secret grief, And hope (so heaven ordains) a quick relief.'
The maid replied, 'Ah sacred genius! bear
A hopeless damsel from this land of care;
Waft me to softer climes and lovelier plains,
Where nature smiles, and spring eternal reigns.'
She spoke; and, swifter than the glance of thought, To a fair isle his sleeping charge he brought.
Now morning breath'd: the scented air was mild, Each meadow blossom'd, and each valley smil'd; On every shrub the pearly dew-drops hung, On every branch a feather'd warbler sung; The cheerful spring her flowery chaplets wove, And incense-breathing gales perfum'd the grove.
The damsel rose; and, lost in glad surprise,
Cast round the gay expanse her opening eyes,
That shone with pleasure, like a starry beam,
Or moonlight sparkling on a silver stream.
She thought some nymph must haunt that lovely scene,
Some woodland goddess, or some fairy queen ;
At least she hop'd in some sequester'd vale
To hear the shepherd tell his amorous tale :
Led by these flattering hopes, from glade to glade,
From lawn to lawn, with hasty steps she stray'd;
But not a nymph by stream or fountain stood,
And not a fairy glided through the wood;
No damsel wanton'd o'er the dewy flow'rs,
No shepherd sung beneath the rosy bow'rs:
On every side she saw vast mountains rise
That thrust their daring foreheads in the skies;
The rocks of polish'd alabaster seem'd,
And in the sun their lofty summits gleam'd.
She call'd aloud; but not a voice replied,
Save Echo babbling from the mountain's side.
By this, had night o'ercast the gloomy scene, And twinkling stars emblaz'd the blue serene : Yet on she wander'd, till, with grief opprest, She fell; and, falling, smote her snowy breast : Now to the heavens her guilty head she rears, And pours her bursting sorrow into tears;
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