III

She bade him sing; fair lutanist

She loved his voice: with one white wrist,

Hooped with a blaze of amethyst,

She raised her ruby-crusted lute:

Gold-welted stuff, like some rich fruit,

Her raiment, diamond-showered, rolled

Folds pigeon-purple, whence one foot

Drooped in an anklet-twist of gold.

The Poems of Madison Cawein, Volume 1 (of 5) Lyrics and old world idylls · 第 281 / 286 题