Pagina 253 de 1116

Thereupon sat a lady bright of blee, with brow beaming

brilliancy, the dream of philosophy, whose eyes were fraught with

Babel's gramarye[FN#149] and her eye brows were arched as for

archery; her breath breathed ambergris and perfumery and her lips

were sugar to taste and carnelian to see. Her stature was

straight as the letter I[FN#150] and her face shamed the noon

sun's radiancy; and she was even as a galaxy, or a dome with

golden marquetry or a bride displayed in choicest finery or a

noble maid of Araby.[FN#151] Right well of her sang the bard when

he said:-

Her smiles twin rows of pearls display * Chamomile-buds or rimey

spray Her tresses stray as night let down * And shames her light

the dawn o' day.