CANTO i. PRODUCTION OF LIFE. 17 







Hell's triple Dog his playful jaws expands, 

 Fawns round the GOD, and licks his baby hands; 

 In wondering groups the shadowy nations throng, 

 And sigh or simper, as he steps along; 

 Sad swains, and nymphs forlorn, on Lethe's brink, 

 Hug their past sorrows, and refuse to drink; 

 Night's dazzled Empress feels the golden flame 

 Play round her breast, and melt her frozen frame; 

 Charms with soft words, and sooths with amorous wiles, 

 Her iron -hearted Lord, and PLUTO smiles. 200 

 His trembling Bride the Bard triumphant led 

 From the pale mansions of the astonish'd dead; 

 Gave the fair phantom to admiring light, 

 Ah, soon again to tread irremeable night!" 



IV. HER snow-white arm, indulgent to my song, 

 Waves the fair Hierophant, and moves along. 



Fawns round the God, 1. 192. This idea is copied from a paintino- 

 of the descent of Orpheus, by a celebrated Parisian artist. 



D 



