To 'broider costly silks whose threads665
The Serians under sunlit skies
From orient treetops gather; she
With common herbs must dye the web
Which she with unskilled hands has wov'n:
But still her husband is her own,670
Her couch by rivals undisturbed.
But favored brides, whose wedding day
The thronging people celebrate,
Fate with her cruel torch pursues.