Questa Fenice Dell' Aurata Piuma. He Compares Her To The Phoenix. This Wondrous Phoenix With The Golden Plumes Forms Without Art So Rare A Ring To Deck That Beautiful And Soft And Snowy Neck, That Every Heart It Melts, And Mine Consumes: Forms, Too, A Natural Diadem Which Lights The Air Around, Whence Love With Silent Steel Draws Liquid Subtle Fire, Which Still I Feel Fierce Burning Me Though Sharpest Winter Bites; Border'D With Azure, A Rich Purple Vest, Sprinkled With Roses, Veils Her Shoulders Fair: Rare Garment Hers, As Grace Unique, Alone! Fame, In The Opulent And Odorous Breast Of Arab Mountains, Buries Her Sole Lair, Who In Our Heaven So High A Pitch Has Flown. Macgregor.