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With joy he hastens to the Pharian plains,
And, wrapt in herbs, conveys his prized remains.
Unnumbered birds attend him as he flies,
Their gathered armies darken all the skies:
Not one impedes him; all, in airy ring,
Adore the progress of the fragrant king.
From rage and war the kite and eagle cease;
They see, and reverence—and the heaven has peace.
So, from the banks of Tigris, Parthia's Lord
Rides stately on before his barbarous horde:
Assyria's broider'd dyes his limbs infold,
Gems grace his crown, his steed is curb'd with gold:
And thus adorned he moves in proud delight,
While vassal thousands own his matchless might.
In one fam'd city, Egypt loves to pay
Her tranquil worship to the God of day.
An hundred columns from the Theban hill
Its temple courts with strength and beauty fill.
'Tis said, that thither, borne on duteous wing,
His father-load the bird is seen to bring.
His Patron God he duly first adores,
Then heaps the altar with his treasured stores:
There views them burning, as the flames ascend,
Germs of his birth, and relics of his end.
