6 AUGUST 1954, Page 21

Torch-bearing slaves shed on the weathered queen soft light, When

Sotades the courtier gravely rose, Bowed deeply, and proceeded to recite The epigram her royal pleasure chose: The Graces myrrh-anointed touched the Queen; Her hair, a shower of hyacinths, floats to her feet. Soft-smiling Helen by the river-green Reeds of the Eurotas must now accept defeat.'