From Helicon's harmonious springs
A thousand rills their mazy progress take.
The Progress of Poesy. I. 1, Line 3.
Glance their many-twinkling feet.
The Progress of Poesy. I. 3, Line 11.
O'er her warm cheek and rising bosom move
The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love.[382:2]
The Progress of Poesy. I. 3, Line 16.
Her track, where'er the goddess roves,
Glory pursue, and gen'rous shame,