and deceived by your reference

To things which you think I would like to believe.

No messenger should come wholly empty,

and a slave should fear plausibilities;

Much conversation is as good as having a home.

Out with it, tell it to me, all of it, from the beginning,

I guzzle with outstretched ears.

Thus? She wept into uncombed hair,

And you saw it,

Vast waters flowed from her eyes?

You, you Lygdamus

Saw her stretched on her bed,—

it was no glimpse in a mirror;

No gawds on her snowy hands, no orfevrerie,

Sad garment draped on her slender arms.

Her escritoires lay shut by the bed-feet.

Sadness hung over the house, and the desolated female attendants

Were desolated because she had told them her dreams.

She was veiled in the midst of that place,

Damp wooly handkerchiefs were stuffed into her undryable eyes,

 Prev. P 10/99 next