Let fancy waken with the rising day;
Let Sol’s fierce coursers whirl the fiery team,
And from their nostrils blow a flood of flame:
Be sultry noon in brighter yellow drest,
And bend a rain-bow on her burning breast,
Let the rich dyes in changing colours flow,
And lose themselves in one poetic glow.
So the fair Indian crown its gloss assumes,
Dispos’d in tufts of party-colour’d plumes;
The transient tincture drinks the neighb’ring hue,