Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 1 of 2.djvu/205

 .(With that she tore her robe apart, and half The polish'd argent of her breast to sight Laid bare. Thereto she pointed with a laugh, Showing the aspick's bite.)

"I died a Queen. The Roman soldier found Me lying dead, my crown about my brows, A name for ever!—lying robed and crown'd, Worthy a Roman spouse."

Her warbling voice, a lyre of widest range Struck by all passion, did fall down and glance From tone to tone, and glided thro' all change Of liveliest utterance.

When she made pause I knew not for delight; Because with sudden motion from the ground She raised her piercing orbs, and fill'd with light The interval of sound.