The Tartar glance, the ringing laugh where guile
Ne’er enters, brown yet blooming charms of face,
And teeth of dazzling lustre lend uncommon grace.
XXII.
Their hair dark shining shamed the raven’s wing,
In tresses long their shoulders floating down,
With ribands gay confined or silken string,
Or slight embroidered veil the head to crown.
Of gold and pearl some covet the renown,
Pendent from prettiest ears; with coral some