Fainting in her robes, still higher
They should hold her, should not falter,
And, lest curse his house should blight,
Ward the fair lips, guard aright,
With the mouth-gag’s muzzling might.
“Her saffron robe letting sweep to the ground,
She smote in turn her slayers round
With bolt from her eyes, as in picture plain,
Asking for grace. And to speak she was fain,
For aforetimes oft at the tables laden