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OF TEMPER.
107


The goddess with a voice divinely clear,
Breath'd these kind accents in her votary's ear:—
"Come, my fair champion! who so well hast fought
The useful battles of contentious thought;
To aid thy gentle spirit to sustain
The final conflict of thy destin'd pain,
View the rewards that, in my realms of bliss,
Wait the sweet victor in such war as this!
So haply may thy mind, with strength renew'd,
The dark devices of the fiend elude;
By one blest effort seal thy triumphs past,
And gain thy promis'd guerdon in the last."
As thus she spake, her heavenly arms embrac'd,
And in the car the conscious maiden plac'd,
Quick at her wish the flaming wheels ascend,
No clouds impede them wheresoe'er they bend.
As thro' the empire of the winds they rush'd,
The winds were all in mute submission hush'd:
And now Serena, from th' exalted car,
Look'd down, astonish'd, on each sinking star;