Her eyelashes, though dark as night, were tinged—
It is the country’s custom—but in vain;
For those large black eyes were so blackly fringed,
The glossy rebels mocked the jetty stain,
And in her native beauty stood avenged:
Her nails were touched with henna; but again
The power of art was turned to nothing, for
They could not look more rosy than before.
(3) Thus lived—thus died she; never more on her
Shall sorrow light or shame. She was not made