Or dimly in their sinking sockets frown.
292.
Now frequent trines the happier lights among,
And high-raised Jove, from his dark prison freed,
Those weights took off that on his planet hung,
Will gloriously the new-laid works succeed.[196]
293.
Methinks already from this chemic flame,
I see a city of more precious mould;
Rich as the town[197] which gives the Indies name,