VII.
The Scene then chang'd, with bold Erected Look Our Martial King the Eye with Reverence strook: For not content t'express his Outward Part, Her hand call'd out the Image of his Heart, } His Warlike Mind, his Soul devoid of Fear, } His High-designing Thoughts, were figur'd there, } As when, by Magick, Ghosts are made appear. Our Phenix Queen was portrai'd too so bright, Beauty alone could Beauty take so right: Her Dress, her Shape, her matchless Grace, Were all observ'd, as well as heav'nly Face. With such a Peerless Majesty she stands, As in that Day she took from Sacred hands The Crown; 'mong num'rous Heroins was seen, More yet in Beauty, than in Rank, the Queen! Thus nothing to her Genius was deny'd, But like a Ball of Fire the further thrown, Still with a greater Blaze she shone, And her bright Soul broke out on ev'ry side. What next she had design'd, Heaven only knows, To such Immod'rate Growth her Conquest rose, That Fate alone their Progress could oppose.