Whilst underneath, with ample sleeves, a turkish robe of silk
Enveloped her in drapery the color of new milk;
Yet oft it floated wide in front, disclosing underneath
A gorgeous Persian tunic, rich with many a broider'd wreath,
Compelled by clasps of costly pearls around her neck to meet—
And yellow as the amber were the buskins on her feet!
Of course I bowed my lowest bow—of all the things on earth,
The reverence due to loveliness, to rank, or ancient birth,
To pow'r, to wealth, to genius, or to anything uncommon,
A man should bend the lowest in a Desert to a Woman!