Alone reclining, on each pliant knee
Her white feet poised by turns to sandalled be.
The sandal buckles were with gems aflame,
And those fine bands that bound each knee the same.
On restless anklets tinkled bells of gold,
A symbol which of princely lineage told.
Their music summoning a tiring maid
Who all her glorious midnight hair arrayed:
A purple black it was, alive and long,
And seemed, if such could be, like a carved song,