O'er which a veil of deepest black was drawn,

And from each searching eye conceal'd the dead.
Estrildis from th' attendant train inquires;

But all, with downcast look, and gesture sad,
Move on in silence; but at length appear'd
A female form, superior in her grief,

Majestic, and alone. Fast flow'd her tears,
Incessant, streaming on her heaving breast,
O'er which her arms were folded. The sad sight
Estrildis with unwonted passion view'd.

When now, before the couch arriv'd, she stopp'd,
And turning rais'd her mournful head: the tears
Now faster flow'd, and from her breast she drew
Deep sighs, and clasp'd her agonizing hands.
Estrildis then her mother knew. She shriek'd,
And grasp'd with fond embrace the fleeting shade.
The strong emotion burst the bonds of sleep,
And all the vision vanish'd; but impress'd
Deep on her mind the sad remembrance dwelt,
And fill'd her secret soul with boding fears.

Now beam'd the rosy morn.

Beside their queen

Her virgin handmaids stood.

"Awake," they cried,

"Awake, fair goddess of these silvan scenes. For thee the sun his genial pow'r displays,

And the glad earth bestrews thy path with flow'rs. Where'er thou tread'st the rose spontaneous blows, And lilies spring, and balmy odours rise.

The breeze, that lightly sweeping o'er the lawn

Scarce moves the daisy on its slender stalk,

To greet thy beauties still more lightly breathes,
And whispers softly, 'tis the time for joy."
Rous'd at their gentle call, the beauteous dame
Comes smiling forth yet still amidst her smiles,
The downcast eye, and often starting tear,
Some inward grief, some hidden care betrays.
Now all, as chance or wanton mirth inclines,
In various sports the pleasing hours employ.
These ply their nimble feet in measur'd dance:
To softest notes, that tender wishes breathe,
The glowing damsels move with easy grace;

And in the liquid radiance of their eyes

Desire now sparkles, and now rapture melts.

Soon to quick strains, that speak triumphant joy,
Their nimble footsteps scarcely print the flow'rs;
Nor can the eye their rapid course discern
Through all the mazes of the varied dance,
While this flies swiftly, and while that pursues,
And shouting mirth from every glade resounds.
Some, like Diana's virgin nymphs attir'd,"
The silver bow, the painted quiver bear.
These with fleet greyhounds o'er the level lawn
The flying hare, the dappled fawn pursue.

While gentler some, in od'rous shades reclin'd,
Tune softest voices to celestial airs;

Airs such as once in myrtle groves were sung,
What time the smiling queen of gay desires
Forsook her Paphian reign, her rosy bow'r,
To hear the ditties of the Lesbian dame.
To this fair troop, in mute attention rapt,
Estrildis listen'd, for their theme was love.

They sung how first the sweetly-painful fires

Steal unsuspected to the virgin's heart:

Then her soft breast what strange emotions heave!

What burning blushes tinge her glowing cheek!
She sighs, but yet she knows not why she sighs;
She blushes, yet unconscious of the flame.

Ah, simple maid! too well those eyes declare

Whence spring thy blushes, whence thy sighs arise;

Those eyes which sparkle when the youth appears, suffus'd with tears when he retires.

Those eyes

What anguish now her gentle bosom rends!

What doubts, what fears, her lab'ring mind perplex!

But see! the loves in flow'ry fetters lead

The youth enamour'd to the secret bow'r.

Now the coy maid with feign'd resentment burns,
Reproves his rashness, and rejects his suit t;

But soon the stolen glance, the frequent sigh,

The glowing cheek, the fault'ring voice, betray
The soft deceit, the mutual flame reveal.

The queen delighted hears, the grateful song

Wakes sweet remembrance. Fancy gaily paints
Scenes of past joys, and every joy renews.

In plaintive notes the nymphs resume the strain,
In plaintive notes; but still the theme was love.
They sung the poor, forsaken maid, who weeps
Her charms despis'd, her easy faith betray'd.
Nor swells her bosom with a lighter grief,

Who mourns the absence of the youth she loves,
Torn from her arms to brave the stormy main,

Or nobly toiling in the field of fame;

But never, never to return again.

Estrildis now her soul to grief resigns,

While in her mind distracting fears arise;

Fast flow her tears, quick pants her throbbing breast.

Th' attentive virgins change their artful song,

And now no more the nymph in absence mourns;

The youth returns, his toils and perils o'er,

The youth returns, with wreaths of conquest crown'd.

Oh joy unhop'd oh bliss beyond compare !