Sunshine, least sand-grain, she, of shadiest social state?

No adamantine shield, polished like Helen there,

Fit to absorb the sun, regorge him till the glare,

Dazing the universe, draw Troy-ward those blind beaks

Of equal-sided ships rowed by the well-greaved Greeks!

No Asian mirror, like yon Ptolemaic witch

Able to fix sun fast and tame sun down, enrich,

Not burn the world with beams thus flatteringly rolled

About her, head to foot, turned slavish snakes of gold!

And oh, no tinted pane of oriel sanctity,