"And dost thou thus betray my self to me?
"Me to my self dost thou betray? says he:
Then to a Touch-stone turns the faithless Spy,
And in his Name records his Infamy.
The Story of Aglauros transform'd
into a Statue.
This done, the God flew up on high, and pass'd
O'er lofty Athens, by Minerva grac'd,
And wide Munichia, whilst his Eyes survey
All the vast Region that beneath him lay.
'Twas now the Feast, when each Athenian Maid
Her yearly Homage to Minerva paid;
In Canisters, with Garlands cover'd o'er,
High on their Heads their mystick Gifts they bore:
And now, returning in a solemn Train,
The Troop of shining Virgins fill'd the Plain.
The God well-pleas'd beheld the pompous Show,
And saw the bright Procession pass below;
Then veer'd about, and took a wheeling Flight,
And hover'd o'er them: As the spreading Kite,
That smells the slaughter'd Victim from on high,
Flies at a Distance, if the Priests are nigh,
And fails around, and keeps it in her Eye;
So kept the God the Virgin Quire in view,
And in slow winding Circles round them flew.
As Lucifer excells the meanest Star,
Or, as the full orb'd Phœbe Lucifer;
So much did Hersè all the rest outvy,
And gave a Grace to the Solemnity.
Hermes was fir'd, as in the Clouds he hung:
So the cold Bullet, that with Fury slung
From Balearick Engines mounts on high,
Glows in the Whirl, and burns along the Sky.
