And, like the kind, life rendering pelican,
Repast them with my blood.
Shakespeare, Hamlet, act iv. sc. 5 (1596).
Phœnix. There is but one phœnix in the world, which, after many hundred years, burns itself, and from its ashes another phœnix rises up.
Now I will believe, ... that in Arabia
There is one tree, the phœnix’ throne; one phœnix
At this hour reigning there.
Shakespeare, The Tempest, act iii. sc. 3 (1609).
The phœnix is said to have fifty orifices in its bill, continued to its tail. After living its 1000 or 500 years, it builds itself a funeral pile, sings a melodious elegy, flaps its wings to fan the fire, and is burnt to ashes.
The enchanted pile of that lonely bird