[p31] Thus, gently reviving, Hope sooth’d them again,
And they shortly forgot both their sorrow and pain.
A path strew’d with flowers, they gaily pursued,
And, in fancy, their long-sought Incognita view’d;
Till, all their cares over, in Dorset[5] they found her
And, plucking a wreath of green Bay-leaves, they crown’d her.
Now, what more remains of our Peacock to say,
But that, homeward, triumphant, he wing’d back his way,