In darkness, and before our Priests, the maid Between the altars cast her bracelets down, Therewith the heavy earrings Armod made, When he was young, out of the water-gold Of Gorukh -- threw the breast-plate thick with jade Upon the turquoise anklets -- put aside The bands of silver on her brow and neck; And as the trinkets tinkled on the stones, The thunder of Taman lowed like a bull.

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