T'indulge the tear, or wear the gloom of sorrow;

This day shall shine in Ages yet to come,

And grace the Parthian story.

Phraates.

Phraates.

Glad Ctes'phon

Pours forth her numbers, like a rolling deluge,

To meet the blooming Hero; all the ways,

On either side, as far as sight can stretch,

Are lin'd with crouds, and on the lofty walls

Innumerable multitudes are rang'd.

On ev'ry countenance impatience sate

With roving eye, before the train appear'd.

But when they saw the Darling of the Fates,

They rent the air with loud repeated shouts;

The Mother shew'd him to her infant Son,

And taught his lisping tongue to name Arsaces:

E'en aged Sires, whose sounds are scarcely heard,

By feeble strength supported, tost their caps,

And gave their murmur to the gen'ral voice.[Pg 30]

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