XVI
A mouth, but dumbe, he hath; blinde eyes, deafe eares, And to his shoulders dangle subtile haires; A young Colossus there hee stands upright, And as that ground by him were conquered A leafie garland weares he on his head Enchas'd with little fruits, so red and bright That for them you would call your Loves lips white; So, of a lone unhaunted place possest, Did this soules second Inne, built by the guest, This living buried man, this quiet mandrake, rest.