Slim, virginal, clad in resplendent white
With floral coronal and fluttering wings
She stands serenely poised; then, swift to rise,
Gleams like a sunlit dove in sudden flight:
So, once again, return to our dulled sight
Dreams of a golden age without alloy.
“How many sages sought in ancient time
Some magic stone transmuting all to gold;
Elixirs rare have many yearned to find,
Recalling refluent youth ere life depart;