Page:The Triumphs of Temper.djvu/24

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6
THE TRIUMPHS


But, as warm clouds in vernal æther roll,
The soft ideas floated in her soul:
Free from ambitious pride, and envious care,
To love, and to be lov'd, was all her pray'r:
While these fond thoughts her gentle mind possess'd,
Soft slumber settled on her snowy breast.
Scarce had her radiant eyes began to close,
When to her view a friendly vision rose:
A fairy Phantom struck her mental fight,
Light as the gossamer, as æther bright;
Array'd like Pallas was the pigmy form,
When the sage goddess stills the martial storm:
Her casque was amber, richly grac'd above
With down, collected from the callow dove:
Her burnish'd breast-plate of a deeper dye,
Was once the armour of a golden fly:
A lynx's eye her little ægis shone,
By fairy spells converted into stone,
And worn of old, as elfin poets sing,
By Egypt's lovely queen, a favourite ring: