Of all as Lora of Thuringia was,
For gentle ways that spoke a noble soul,
Winning all hearts to love her and to praise,
As might a great and beautiful thought that holds
Us by the simplest words.—Blue were her eyes
As the high glory of a summer day.
Her hair,—serene and braided over brows
White as a Harz dove's wing,—an auburn brown,
And deep as mists the sun has drenched with gold:
And her young presence, like embodied song,