She oft bow’d down to kiss the image fair.
It vanish’d now within the eddying wave,
Which had the power thy purple mouth to lave,
But not to cool thy lips, O virgin bright!
But when the water clear again in sight
Brought back the image of the god beloved,
Reflection deep the heart of Gerda moved.
Seldom with greater care explores the sage
The vast conceptions that his mind engage,
Than doth the deep-enamour’d maiden trace