Deign thee, oh nymph!—oh deign thee to draw near—
The poet bending, thus invokes thee now
With pure libations to thy virgin brow.
She rose, the genius of the unsung stream,
She rose in beauty like a flashing gleam
Of sudden sunlight, o’er her glassy tide;
Fair as the four young nymphs that, hand in hand,
Gave their elastic footsteps to the sand,
From Tagus’ golden depths,[[17]] so did she glide
To earth—so wring the moisture from her hair,