*
"The Book of Odes", by L. Cranmer-Byng, [1908],

p. 30

"Through Eastern Gates\"

Through eastern gates I wandered far,

Where cloud-like beauties thronged the way;

Although like clouds their faces are,

My thoughts among them would not stay.

She in rough silk and kerchief blue

Gave me the only joy I knew.

I wandered by the curtain tower,

Like flowering rushes were the maids;

Although they match the rushes' flower,

Soon from my mind their beauty fades.

In humble silk and madder dye,

She fills my heart with ecstasy.