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The gorgeous tapestry, rare colours blending and robing rustick earth with rainbow dye, makes Achaemenia’s webs the less resplending, yet softer shades on sombre vales to lie.
Here the Cephisian flow’er his head low bending eyeth the lakelet lucid as the sky: There Cinyras’ grandson-son still bleeds in bloom, and, Paphian goddess! still thou wail’st his doom.