The chaplet of bronze.
97
Rose, faintly audible. 'Twas but a fancy!
Still Marcia smiled, and still Amalia bent.
The smile seemed graven upon Marcia's lip.
And now Amalia, sinking to her knee,
Bent lower, lower, lower, till her brow
Pressed down the border of the robes that swept
Prom Marcia's zone, and Marcia had no rival!
Still Marcia smiled, and still Amalia bent.
The smile seemed graven upon Marcia's lip.
And now Amalia, sinking to her knee,
Bent lower, lower, lower, till her brow
Pressed down the border of the robes that swept
Prom Marcia's zone, and Marcia had no rival!
