’Twas all for Crete her votaries were bound,
And to the Cretan maid her worship swerved.
11
Which when in heaven great Aphrodite saw,
Who is the breather of the year’s bright morn,
Fount of desire and beauty without flaw,
Herself the life that doth the world adorn;
Seeing that without her generative might
Nothing can spring upon the shores of light,
Nor any bud of joy or love be born;