In drapery like woven snow
These nymphs were clad; and each below
The rounded bosom loosely wore
A dark blue zone or bandelet,
With little silver stars all o'er
As are the skies at midnight set.
While in their tresses, braided thro',
Sparkled that flower of Egypt's lakes,
The silvery lotus in whose hue
As much delight the young Moon takes
As doth the Day-God to behold
The lofty bean-flower's buds of gold.
And, as they gracefully went round
The worshipt bird, some to the beat
Of castanets, some to the sound
Of the shrill sistrum timed their feet;
While others at each step they took
A tinkling chain of silver shook.
They seemed all fair--but there was one
On whom the light had not yet shone,
Or shone but partly--so downcast
She held her brow, as slow she past.
And yet to me there seemed to dwell
A charm about that unseen face--
A something in the shade that fell
Over that brow's imagined grace
Which won me more than all the best
Outshining beauties of the rest.
And _her_ alone my eyes could see
Enchained by this sweet mystery;
And her alone I watched as round
She glided o'er that marble ground,
Stirring not more the unconscious air
Than if a Spirit were moving there.
Till suddenly, wide open flew
The Temple's folding gates and threw
A splendor from within, a flood
Of glory where these maidens stood.
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