HER life is a revolving dream Of languid and sequestered ease; Her girdles and her fillets gleam Like changing fires on sunset seas; Her raiment is like morning mist, Shot opal, gold and amethyst. From thieving light of eyes impure, From coveting sun or wind`s caress, Her days are guarded and secure Behind her carven lattices, Like jewels in a turbaned crest, Like secrets in a lover`s breast. But though no hand unsanctioned dares Unveil the mysteries of her grace, Time lifts the curtain unawares, And Sorrow looks into her face . . . Who shall prevent the subtle years, Or shield a woman`s eyes from tears?SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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