One beam of ruth to thy poor suppliant,
Nor turn me from thine altar comfortless.’
23
Even as she pray’d a cloud spread through the cell,
And ’mid the wreathings of the vapour dim
The goddess grew in glory visible,
Like some barbaric queen in festal trim;
Such the attire and ornaments she wore,
When o’er the forgèd threshold of the floor
Of Zeus’s house she stept to visit him.