In form and stature as the Sea Nymph’s son,
When that wise Centaur from his cave well-pleased
Beheld the boy divine his growing strength
Against some shaggy lionet essay,
And fixing in the half-grown mane his hands,
Roll with him in fierce dalliance intertwined.
But like a creature of some higher sphere
His sister came; she scarcely touch’d the rock,
So light was Hermesind’s aërial speed.
Beauty and grace and innocence in her