Checked her hand, and changed her mind
Just when she had exactly wrought
A finished, pattern without fault?
Could she flag, or could she tire, 20
Or lacked she the Promethean fire
(With her nine moons’ long workings sickened)
That should thy little limbs have quickened?
Limbs so firm, they seemed to’ assure
Life of health, and days mature: 25
Woman’s self in miniature!