Her hair before she loosed it was done in two mighty tresses, yellow like the flower of the waterflag, each tress being plaited in four strands, and at the end of each strand a little golden ball.

When she laid aside her mantle her arms came through the armholes of her tunic, white as the snow of a single night, and her cheeks were ruddy as the foxglove.
Even and small were her teeth, as if a shower of pearls had fallen in her mouth.

Her eyes were hyacinth-blue, her lips scarlet as the rowan-berry, her shoulders round and white, her fingers were long and her nails smooth and pink.

Her feet also were slim, and white as sea-foam.

The radiance of the moon was in her face, pride in her brows, the light of wooing in her eyes.