From fuming altars climb the purple skies;
While slender pipes by youthful minions blown,
With softest melodies the rites make known.
V.
From foam-born Aphrodite’s voluptuous seat
On Acrocorinth’s lofty summit pour,
Their raven tresses dropping unguents sweet,
Her thousand handmaids to the busy shore,
Where they entangle in their wanton wiles
The voyagers come from continents and isles.