To your divining tongue is given a power
Of uttering secrets, large and limitless;
You can Penelope's strange thoughts express;
Which she conceived, and then would fain have told,
When she the wondrous Crystal did behold.
124.
Her wingèd thoughts bore up her mind so high
As that she weened she saw the glorious throne,
Where the bright Moon doth sit in Majesty:
A thousand sparkling stars about her shone,