And while, with wond’ring eyes, the immortal boy
Imbibed new light, and pour’d ecstatic joy:
He kiss’d and drain’d by turns her fragrant breast,
Till amorous ring-doves coo’d the god to rest.
Mothers may love as much, but never more,
Nor e’er did mother love so well before,
As Irza loved that child! Her sable lord
Mark’d well that love; and now, to health restored,
He felt her child to home would chain her feet,
Nor roll’d the stone to close her lone retreat.