XL
I MARK you coming the accustomed way, As light as grace, your head uplift and high, Gray subtlety of flame in either eye, Your hair blown golden by the windy spray; And bright about you, darting with the play Of beams of tint most delicate and shy, A light such as above the eastern sky Heralds the dayspring and adorns the day;
Such crown as, when the gates of June unclose, Plays like the veil of rose about the rose; A snare, of grain so delicate, so mighty, Not Ares, not Adonis might prevail. Thou art the goddess of the golden veil, Mistress of men, the woman Aphrodite.