Tyrian

“Still had she gazed; but 'midst the tide Two angel forms were seen to glide, The Genii of the stream; Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue Thro' richest purple to the view Betrayed a golden gleam.”

“It was no longer torture-torn and hateful, as I had seen it when she was cursing her dead rival by the leaping flames, no longer icily terrible as in the judgment-hall, no longer rich, and sombre, and splendid, like a Tyrian cloth, as in the dwellings of the dead.”