The Phoenix, lines 85-181

A bird lives in this wood: it is named the Phoenix.  He never dies in this good place as long as the world remains.  He watches for when the sun rises above the sea and then, when it has risen, he bathes himself twelve times in the streams.  Then he goes up onto a high tree where he can watch the sun travel over the waves.

As soon as the sun is shining over the sea, the bird flies from the tree and sings as he soars through the sky.  The song is sweeter than all the musical instruments of the world, trumpets, horns, harps, voices and even the organ.  It is sweeter than the wings of swans.  The bird sings until the sun goes down he stops singing, listens, and then beats his wings three times.  And he always marks the hours, twelve times each day, both day and night.

The phoenix does this for 1000 years at a time.

But when he has weakened with age, the grey-feathered bird flies away from the beautiful land and finds a realm in earth where no people live.  There he rules over a family of birds and dwells with them in the desert for a while, until he flies west to the land of Syria.  There, he seeks out a hidden place within a grove of trees.  He chooses one tree, which people call the Phoenix (the same name as the bird).

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