II.
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oon Nature to the woman bows;She walks in earth’s whole glory clad,And, chiefest far herself of shows,All others help her, and are glad:No splendour ’neath the sky’s proud domeBut serves for her familiar wear;The far-fetch’d diamond finds its homeFlashing and smouldering in her hair;For her the seas their pearls reveal;Art and strange lands her pomp supplyWith purple, chrome, and cochineal,Ochre, and lapis lazuli;The worm its golden woof presents;Whatever runs, flies, dives, or delves,All doff for her their ornaments,Which suit her better than themselves;And all, by this their power to give,Proving her right to take, proclaimHer beauty’s clear prerogativeTo profit so by Eden’s blame.
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