Who can command all forms will choose the highest,
Something superior even to that which was
Pelides now before us. Perhaps his
Who slew him, that of Paris: or—still higher—
The Poet's God, clothed in such limbs as are
Themselves a poetry.
Stran.Less will content me;370
For I, too, love a change.
Arn.Your aspect is
Dusky, but not uncomely.[221]