A mighty halo round her silver throne,
With parting meteors crossed, portentous shone:
This in the troubled sky full oft prevails,
Oft deemed a signal of tempestuous gales.
While young Arion sleeps, before his sight
Tumultuous swim the visions of the night:
Now, blooming Anna with her happy swain
Approached the sacred hymeneal fane;
Anon, tremendous lightnings flash between,
And funeral pomp, and weeping loves are seen: