Chapter 521 of 1964 · 62 words · ~1 min read

LXXIII.

Her hair's long auburn waves down to her heel Flowed like an Alpine torrent which the sun Dyes with his morning light,--and would conceal Her person[187] if allowed at large to run, And still they seemed resentfully to feel The silken fillet's curb, and sought to shun Their bonds whene'er some Zephyr caught began To offer his young pinion as her fan.