As Bianca slowly braided
With her fingers small and fair,
While a deeper shadow gathered o’er the chamber’s scented air.
On the jeweled mirror gazing,
Spoke the lady not a word,
When, within its picture certain,
Slowly moved the silken curtain,
Though the breezes had not stirred,
And its faintly falling rustle on the marble was unheard.
Breathless, o’er her tender musing