But himself turned backward again, and unto the galley he hied.
Now soon as the maiden beheld the splendour of dawn outrolled
O’er the heavens, gathered she up with her hands her tresses of gold,
Which over her shoulders in careless disarray hung loose: {830}
And she bathed her feverish cheeks, and with perfume shed from the cruse
All nectar-scented her body shone; and a robe fair-wrought
She donned, and with brooches cunningly-fashioned its folds upcaught.
And the cloud of a veil did she cast o’er her head unearthly fair,
And as silver it shimmered: she trode the floors of the palace there
Pacing unfaltering to and fro, forgetful of all