[_Thus when the egg of Night_. l. 413. There were two Cupids belonging to the antient mythology, one much elder than the other. The elder cupid, or Eros, or divine Love, was the first that came out of the great egg of night, which floated in Chaos, and was broken by the horns of the celestial bull, that is, was hatched by the warmth of the spring. He was winged and armed, and by his arrows and torch pierced and vivified all things, producing life and joy. Bacon, Vol. V. p. 197. Quarto edit. Lond. 1778. "At this time, (says Aristophanes,) sable-winged night produced an egg, from whence sprung up like a blossom Eros, the lovely, the desirable, with his glossy golden wings." Avibus. Bryant's Mythology, Vol. II. p. 350. second edition. This interesting moment of this sublime allegory Mrs. Cosway has chosen for her very beautiful painting. She has represented Eros or divine Love with large wings having the strength of the eagle's wings, and the splendor of the peacocks, with his hair floating in the form of flame, and with a halo of light vapour round his head; which illuminates the painting; while he is in the act of springing forwards, and with his hands separating the elements.] IX. The GODDESS paused, admired with conscious pride The effulgent legions marshal'd by her side, Forms sphered in fire with trembling light array'd, Ens without weight, and substance without shade; 425 And, while tumultuous joy her bosom warms, Waves her white hand, and calls her hosts to arms, "Unite, ILLUSTRIOUS NYMPHS! your radiant powers, Call from their long repose the VERNAL HOURS. Wake with soft touch, with rosy hands unbind 430 The struggling pinions of the WESTERN WIND; Chafe his wan cheeks, his ruffled plumes repair, And wring the rain-drops from his tangled hair. Blaze round each frosted rill, or stagnant wave, And charm the NAIAD from her silent cave; 435 Where, shrined in ice, like NIOBE she mourns, And clasps with hoary arms her empty urns. Call your bright myriads, trooping from afar, With beamy helms, and glittering shafts of war; In phalanx firm the FIEND OF FROST assail, 440 Break his white towers, and pierce his crystal mail; To Zembla's moon-bright coasts the Tyrant bear, And chain him howling to the Northern Bear.