Even so from her home forth hasted the lovely maid that day. {40}
Yea, and the bolts of the doors self-moving to her gave way
Leaping aback at the swift-breathed spell of her magic song.
And with feet unsandalled she ran the narrow lanes along,
While her left hand gathered a fold of her mantle, to screen from sight
Her brows and her face and her lovely cheeks, the while with her right
The hem of the skirt of her tunic she held upraised from the ground.
And swiftly without the towers that girded the wide burg round
By the darkling path in her terror she came; and no man knew
Of the warders thereof, but past them all unseen she flew.