And Byron, in yet higher strain:—

“There, too, the goddess loves in stone, and fills

The air around with beauty;

within the pale

We stand, and in that form and face behold

What Mind can make, when Nature’s self would fail;

And to the fond idolaters of old

Envy the innate flash which such a soul could mould.

We gaze and turn away, and know not where,

Dazzled and drunk with beauty, till the heart