Within your magic web of hair, lies furled
 
The fire and splendour of the ancient world;
 
The dire gold of the comet’s wind-blown hair;
 
The songs that turned to gold the evening air
 
When all the stars of heaven sang for joy.
        
The flames that burnt the cloud-high city Troy.
 
The mænad fire of spring on the cold earth;
 
The myrrh-lit flame that gave both death and birth
 
To the soul Phoenix; and the star-bright shower
 
That came to Danaë in her brazen tower…
 
Within your magic web of hair lies furled
 
The fire and splendour of the ancient world.