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VII. Ulysses, then, toward the palace moved Of King Alcinoüs, but immers'd in thought Stood, first, and paused, ere with his foot he press'd The brazen threshold; for a light he saw As of the sun or moon illuming clear The palace of Phæacia's mighty King. Walls plated bright with brass, on either side Stretch'd from the portal to th' interior house, With azure cornice crown'd; the doors were gold Which shut the palace fast; silver the posts Rear'd on a brazen threshold, and above, The lintels, silver, architraved with gold. Mastiffs, in gold and silver, lined the approach On either side, by art celestial framed Of Vulcan, guardians of Alcinoüs' gate For ever, unobnoxious to decay. Sheer from the threshold to the inner house Fixt thrones the walls, through all their length, adorn'd, With mantles overspread of subtlest warp Transparent, work of many a female hand. On these the princes of Phæacia sat, Holding perpetual feasts, while golden youths On all the sumptuous altars stood, their hands With burning torches charged, which, night by night, Shed radiance over all the festive throng. Full fifty female menials serv'd the King In household offices; the rapid mills These turning, pulverize the mellow'd grain,