A stranger-youth advancing thro' the shade.
His stately air, his gold-embroider'd vest,
And towering step superior birth confess'd;
But time, and mental storms, had changed a mien
By godlike Vasa once with pleasure seen:
Tho' recent hope and transport half effaced
The lines, which sorrow had so lately traced.

Unaw'd by fear the courteous hero stood,
And near the shady confines of the wood
Now met the youth. "Whoe'er thou art," he cried,
"Beneath our roof the tranquil morn abide:
For see, the red stars rise, and all around
The dew falls heavy on the silent ground."

"Hear, gallant guardian of an injured state!"
(Replied the certain messenger of fate)
"For well I know thee, once in battle seen:
No length of years can change a hero's mien,
Unalter'd as his soul; since in his lines
The stamp of Heaven's own hand distinguish'd shines."--

On him, in speechless wonder, Vasa gazed:
New feelings, by uncertain memory raised,
Rose indistinct: now rage, he knew not why,
Fired all his spirit; now the half-felt sigh
Of ancient friendship in his breast renew'd,
Urged its slow course, whilst thus the youth pursu'd:

"Ask not my name--lest rising wrath prevent