Queen of the beauty of youth, thou herald of Aphrodite’s celestial yearning,
Who on eyelids of boys and of maidens enthroned, in hands spell-weaving for ever art turning
Our destinies to and fro, unto this man allotting joy, and to that man grief,
Sweet is it for one who hath transgressed never in aught that he doeth the right’s due measure
To be suffered to grasp the fulfilment of life’s most noble aims, of his heart’s dream-treasure.