106
THE TRIUMPHS
Ambition, with his sceptre snapt in twain,
And Avarice, scorning what his chests contain.
Round the tame vulture flies the fearless dove;
Soft Innocence embraces playful Love;
And laughing Sport, the frolic child of Air,
Buries in flowers the sinking form of Care.
These figures, pencil'd with a touch so light,
That every image seem'd an heavenly sprite,
Breathe on the car; whose sight-enchanting frame
Four wheels sustain, of pale and purple flame;
For no fleet animals, to earth unknown,
Bear thro' ætherial fields this flying throne.
As by the subtle electrician's skill,
Globes seem to fly obedient to his will,
So these four circles of instinctive fire
Move by the impulse of their queen's desire,
Mount or descend by her directing care,
Or rest, supported by the buoyant air.
Now, springing from her car, that hovering staid
High in the chamber of the sleeping maid,
And Avarice, scorning what his chests contain.
Round the tame vulture flies the fearless dove;
Soft Innocence embraces playful Love;
And laughing Sport, the frolic child of Air,
Buries in flowers the sinking form of Care.
These figures, pencil'd with a touch so light,
That every image seem'd an heavenly sprite,
Breathe on the car; whose sight-enchanting frame
Four wheels sustain, of pale and purple flame;
For no fleet animals, to earth unknown,
Bear thro' ætherial fields this flying throne.
As by the subtle electrician's skill,
Globes seem to fly obedient to his will,
So these four circles of instinctive fire
Move by the impulse of their queen's desire,
Mount or descend by her directing care,
Or rest, supported by the buoyant air.
Now, springing from her car, that hovering staid
High in the chamber of the sleeping maid,
