“ ‘Bright youth,’ she cries, ‘whom all thy features prove A god, and, if a god, the god of love; But if a mortal, bless’d thy nurse’s breast, Bless’d are thy parents, and thy sisters bless’d: But O! how bless’d, how more than bless’d thy bride! Allied in bliss, if any yet allied. If so, let mine the stolen enjoyments be; If not, behold a willing bride in me.’