When, by revolving moons, successive time
Had brought her beauty to its perfect prime,
Her shape was faultless, and in all her mien
Presaging marks of majesty were seen:
No mortal e'er could boast so fair a face,
Such radiant eyes, and so divine a grace.
A flow'ry wreath her beauteous temples crown'd,
Her snowy vest a crimson girdle bound:
Thus dress'd, she walks a goddess o'er the plains,
Admir'd and lov'd by all the gazing swains;
To her the fragrant tribute of the spring,
With am'rous zeal on bended knees they bring.