When the bifolding door the warder bars,
His crooked key depict her glittering stars.
She seems to wail the judgments, which betide
Her daughter, victim of a mother's pride.
Near, young Andromeda, more splendid far,
Though grief and fear the maiden's beauty mar.
Her garland'd head—her shoulders bare admire—
Her diamond sandall'd feet—her rich attire—
She still in heaven her captive form retains;
And on her wrists still hang the galling chains. 210
Close and above her head the wondrous steed
With hoof and wing exerts a double speed.
So close they meet, one brilliant star they share,
His body it adorns—and decks her hair.
His side and shoulder with three others grac'd,
As if by art at equal distance plac'd—
Splendid and large. Obscure his ample chest—
Black his long neck—and black his flowing crest.
But on his nostril glows a living fire—
Snorting he seems to stamp with rage and ire.
No quadruped this horse; for lost to sight
Vanish his hinder parts in darkest night.
Once, as they say, on Helicon was seen
Starting from rocky cleft sweet Hippocrene;
When with his hoof he struck the sounding rock,
And earth, obedient to the magic shock, 220
