XLII.

A kind of sleepy Venus seemed Dudù, Yet very fit to "murder sleep"[350] in those Who gazed upon her cheek's transcendent hue, Her Attic forehead, and her Phidian nose: Few angles were there in her form, 't is true, Thinner she might have been, and yet scarce lose; Yet, after all, 't would puzzle to say where It would not spoil some separate charm to _pare_.