Of any worshipped woman is.

Some snails have climb'd the throne and writ

Their silver monograms on it

In unknown tongues.

I sat thereon,

I dreamed until the day was gone;

I blew again my pearly shell,—

Blew long and strong, and loud and well;

I puffed my cheeks, I blew, as when

Horn'd satyrs danced the delight of men.