Amid the forms of ancient gods untold
Of fairest marble, and like marble cold,
She thrones on her high pedestal.
She, whom in secret, silent lawn,
When dreamy mists were floating o'er the brook,
Anchises in his mighty arms once took,
Till she escaped from him at early dawn.
The goddess died. They found the fair remains
And bore the lovely corpse up to the fane,
Where, altho' dead, she in her realm still reigns.