“. . . Down thither, prone in flight

He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky

Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing,

Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan

Winnows the buxom air; till within soar

Of towering eagles, to all the fowls he seems

A Phœnix, gazed by all; as that sole bird

When, to enshrine his relics in the sun’s

Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies.”

THE COCKATRICE, OR BASILISK