The sacred vision to the youth appears,
His spirits with celestial fragrance chears.
His heav'nly smiles would ev'n despair control,
And with immortal rapture fill the Soul.
His youthful brows a fair  crown'd,
A folding zone his gaudy vestments bound,
Embroider'd high with  round.
Such wings th'  Phoenix never wore,
Sprinkled with gold and shading purple o'er.
Beneficent his aspect and address,
His lips seraphick harmony express;
His voice might stay th' invading sleep of death,
While these soft words flow with his balmy breath.