Pelayo stood confused: he had not seen
Count Julian’s daughter since in Roderick’s court,
Glittering in beauty and in innocence,
A radiant vision, in her joy she moved;
More like a poet’s dream, or form divine,
Heaven’s prototype of perfect womanhood,
So lovely was the presence, ... than a thing
Of earth and perishable elements.
Now had he seen her in her winding-sheet,
Less painful would that spectacle have proved;