PANTHEA
  That terrible Shadow floats
  Up from its throne, as may the lurid smoke
  Of earthquake-ruined cities o'er the sea.
  Lo! it ascends the car; the coursers fly
  Terrified; watch its path among the stars
  Blackening the night!

ASIA
  Thus I am answered: strange!

PANTHEA
  See, near the verge, another chariot stays;
  An ivory shell inlaid with crimson fire,
  Which comes and goes within its sculptured rim
  Of delicate strange tracery; the young Spirit
  That guides it has the dove-like eyes of hope;
  How it soft smiles attract the soul! as light
  Lures wingèd insects through the lampless air.

SPIRIT
  My coursers are fed with the lightning,
  They drink of the whirlwind's stream,
  And when the red morning is bright'ning
  They bathe in the fresh sunbeam.
  They have strength for their swiftness I deem;
  Then ascend with me, daughter of Ocean.