“Each swain who above shall behold it move

Like a meteor through the sky,[47]

His heart ’twill ensnare, for her ringlets fair

With those of Freya shall vie.

“Though gold be dead, when it touches the head

Of that Disa in beauty’s bloom,

’Twill life receive, and easy to weave

Like flax will it straight become.

“Like the high-plum’d crest by the winds carest,

It shall wave and enchant the sight;