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.

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