Her unadorned golden tresses wore
Dishevelled, but in wanton ringlets waved
As the vine curls her tendrils: which implied
Subjection, but required with gentle sway,
And by her yielded, by him best received.
Milton.
So spake our mother Eve; and Adam heard
Well pleased, but answered not; for now, too nigh
The archangel stood; and from the other hill
To their fixed station, all in bright array,