Beneath it soars the Royal Bird of Jove,
Rais'd by his master to these realms above.
To sailors oft an inauspicious star,
Rises at dawn of day, the bright Atair. 330
Where Capricorn his horned forehead rears,
Not distant far his course the Dolphin steers—
Obedient fish—that from a distant shore
His coy reluctant bride to Neptune bore.
With four fair stars he decks the summer skies,
Sparkling and soft as maiden's beauteous eyes.
Now have been sung the various forms that roll
Their daily orbits round the northern pole;
And the twelve signs, through which the God of day,
Varying the seasons, runs his glorious way. 340
There yet remain untold those stars which shine
In realms beyond the equinoctial line.
Athwart the Bull first rise—majestic sight!
Orion's giant limbs and shoulders bright.
Who but admires him stalking through the sky,
With diamond-studded belt, and glittering thigh?
Nor with less ardour, pressing on his back,
The mottled Hound pursues his fiery track.
Dark are his lower parts as wintry night—
His head with burning star intensely bright. 350
