And specious shew yield to more solid right.”
LXVII.
She spoke;—the Seasons, and the winged Hours,
Confirm’d her voice; then breath’d a rich perfume,
Which Zephyr scatter’d wide o’er all the flow’rs,
And deck’d their leaves with more than mortal bloom.
LXVIII.
Then, his lov’d consort straining in his arms,
With gentlest touch salutes her swelling breast;
Who strait shone forth in more refulgent charms,