Whereof one drop worked miracles,
And colored like Astarte's eyes
Raw silk the merchant sells?
And each bystander of them all
Could criticise, and quote tradition
How depths of blue sublimed some pall
—To get which, pricked a king's ambition;
Worth sceptre, crown and ball.
Yet there's the dye, in that rough mesh,
The sea has only just o'er-whispered!