English poem
Iv
by R. D. Blackmore (1825–1900)
Silvery scarf, her waist enwreathing, Wafts a soft Sabaean balm; Like a cloud of incense, breathing Round the column of a palm:
Snood of lilies interweaveth (Giving less than it receiveth) Beauty of her clustered brow, Calmly bent upon us now.
Through her dark hair, spread before See the western glory wane, As in groves of dim Cytorus, Or the bowers of Taprobane!