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Thus she spoke, and with her silent companion advanced sheThrough the garden, until the floor of the granary reach'd they,Where the sick woman lay, whom she left by her daughters attended,Those dear rescued maidens, the types of innocent beauty.Both of them enter'd the room, and from the other direction,Holding a child in each hand, her friend, the magistrate, enter'd.These had lately been lost for some time by the sorrowing mother,But the old man had now found them out in the crowd of the people.And they sprang in with joy, to greet their dearly-loved mother,To rejoice in a brother, the playmate now seen for the first time!

Him whom thou ne'er leavest, Genius,Thou wilt wrap up warmlyIn the snow-drift;Tow'rd the warmth approach the Muses,Tow'rd the warmth approach the Graces.