Page:Hero and Leander - Marlowe and Chapman (1821).pdf/148

 A crown of icicles, that sun nor fire Could ever melt, and figur'd chaste desire. A golden star shin'd in her naked breast, In honour of the queen-light of the east. In her right hand she held a silver wand, On whose bright top Peristera did stand, Who was a nymph, but now transform'd a dove, And in her life was dear in Venus' love: And for her sake she ever since that time Choos'd doves to draw her coach through Heav'n's blue clime: Her plenteous hair in curled billows swims On her bright shoulder: her harmonious limbs Sustain'd no more but a most subtile veil, That hung on them, as it durst not assail Their different concord: for the weakest air Could raise it swelling from her beauties fair; Nor did it cover, but adumbrate only Her most heart-piercing parts, that a bless'd eye Might see, as it did shadow, fearfully, All that all-love-deserving paradise: It was as blue as the most freezing skies;