Susanna Haswell Rowson - Page of The Inquisitor; or, Invisible Rambler with "The Fragment" lyrics

It was a fine evening in the month of June; so removing the ring from my finger, I stepped into a fruiterer's, purchased a bottle of strawberries, walked into the Park, and seated myself in one of the chairs.—My mind was at that moment a sort of vacuum, my thoughts unemployed, when casting my eyes upon the paper that covered the strawberries, I perceived it was part of a fairy tale, but wrote in an uncommon poetic style. THE FRAGMENT Fair Cynthia now, bright Empress of the night, Mounted her azure throne, with diamonds studded; Her modest face, veil'd in a fleecy cloud, Which, as it partly hid, heighten'd her beauties. When fair Alzada, weary and forlorn, Pensive sat down beside a murm'ring stream, With nought to shield her from nocturnal dews, Saving an ancient oak, whose sturdy boughs Had brav'd the storms of many a winter past. Her lovely head reclin'd upon her hand; Her eyes were rais'd with fervor toward Heav'n. In those bright orbs started a pearly drop, Which, as it fell, another took its place… […] The chariot was of curious workmanship, Ivory, gold, coral, and precious stones; Around it hover'd little laughing loves; And on each side were rang'd fair village maids, With lutes and harps, tabors and shepherd's pipes, Singing and playing soft harmonious airs. Eight milk-white steeds, I turned the paper, but there was no more— There are times when the mind is affected by mere trifles; such now was my case—I was vexed at not finding the conclusion of the story, and determined to go back to the fruiterer's, and inquire if they had the remainder.—A few moments brought me to the place.