Stiller than chiselled marble, standing there;
A daughter of the gods, divinely tall,
And most divinely fair.
...
I turning saw, throned on a flowery rise,
One sitting on a crimson scarf unrolled;
A queen, with swarthy cheeks and bold black eyes,
Brow-bound with burning gold....
“I died a Queen. The Roman soldier found
Me lying dead, my crown about my brows,