Wary of that nocturnal silence
At which love took fright
The silent-soul Princess
Played a prelude on her lute of love
In the mage of her wild disarray
Her silver-ringed fingers called up
Sleep-inducing strains
On the gold and silver strings
She sang the slow cantilenas
Whose memory-laden languors
Tell queens and ladies
Dying of all they remember
And through the room where the yellow moon
Gleamed on the beneath the crimson of the throne
Heavy with the dagger’s steel
The rusting of her wild disarray
At the motion on her silver rings
And the awe of sleep-inducing strains
On thee gold and silver strings.
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