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Rh

On the side opposite were thrown, Rainbow-like mix'd, a sparkling zone, A snow-white veil, a purple vest Embroider'd with a golden crest. Before, the silver mirror's trace Is the sweet shadow of her face, Placed as appealing to her eyes For the truth of the flatteries, With which her gay attendants seek To drive all sadness from her cheek.— She heard them not; she reck'd not how They wreath'd the bright hair o'er her brow, Whate'er its sunny grace might be There was an eye that would not see. They told of words of royal praise, They told of minstrel's moonlight lays,