Banded from pole to pole; a diamond clear,
Shaped as bard’s fancy shapes the small balloon
To bear some sylph or fay beyond the moon.
From all her bands see lucid fringes play,
That glance and sparkle in the solar ray
With iridescent hues. Now round and round
She wheels and twirls; now mounts, then sinks profound.
Now see her like the belted star of Jove,
Spin on her axis smooth, as if she strove
To win applause—a thing of conscious sense