16
Gems form the coasts, and still, as art decrees,
Upheaved in billows swell the mimic seas;
Awaken'd Fancy hears the breaker's shock,
And views the sea-weed gliding from the rock.
Five zones she adds; the midmost fiery red,
Where ceaseless sunbeams parch each droughty thread;
And two on either hand, where human kind
Mild regions fitted for its home may find.
Two more at each extreme she traces, lost
In gloomy winter, and eternal frost.
Of Pluto and the Manes then the cell
She paints, by fate ordain'd. with them to dwell.
Nor this without an omen: as she view'd,
Foreboding tears her tender cheeks bedew'd.
Next had she marked the path, where Ocean wound
About the margin its majestic round,
But, as the portal open'd, turned to see
The sudden entrance of the heavenly three,
And left th' unfinished work, while rosy shame
Her fair face kindled with its purest flame.
Not with those tints the Lydian artist vies,
Her ivory steeping in Sidonian dyes.
Now sinks the sun—soft dewy Night succeeds,
And Sleep accompanies her darkling steeds.
