Is mine; the broidered stole would ill become
My present mission, bringing as thou see’st,
These simple offerings to appease the Shades;
From the chaste cow, this white and healthful milk,
This clearest juice, by the flower-working bee
Distilled, this pure wave from the virgin spring,
This draught of joyaunce from the unmingled grape,
Of a wild mother born; this fragrant fruit
Of the pale green olive, ever leafy-fair,[n20]
And these wreathed flowers, of all-producing Earth