The sky and ocean blending, each on fire,
Seem'd as all nature struggled to expire.
When now the silver star of love appear'd,
Bright in the east her radiant front she rear'd;
Fair through the horrid storm the gentle ray
Announced the promise of the cheerful day;
From her bright throne celestial love beheld
The tempest burn, and blast on blast impell'd:
And must the furious demon still, she cries,
Still urge his rage, nor all the past suffice!
Yet, as the past, shall all his rage be vain—
She spoke, and darted to the roaring main;
Her lovely nymphs she calls, the nymphs obey,
Her nymphs the virtues who confess her sway;
Round every brow she bids the rose-buds twine,
And every flower adown the locks to shine,
The snow-white lily and the laurel green,
And pink and yellow as at strife be seen.
Instant amid their golden ringlets strove
Each flowret, planted by the hand of love;
At strife, who first th' enamour'd powers to gain,
Who rule the tempests and the waves restrain:
Bright as a starry band the Nereids shone,
Instant old Eolus' sons their presence[1] own;
The winds die faintly, and in softest sighs
Each at his fair one's feet desponding lies.
- ↑ For the fable of Eolus, see the tenth Odyssey.
