And [fair Ligea’s golden comb], 880
Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks
Sleeking her soft alluring locks;
By all the nymphs that nightly dance
Upon thy streams with wily glance;
Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head 885
From thy coral-paven bed,
And [bridle in] thy headlong wave,
Till thou our summons answered have.
Listen and save!