The lady watched with anxious face For Kama corning from the chase With Lakshrnan by his side: But nothing met her wandering glance Save the wild forest's green expanse Extending far and wide.
CANTO XLVII. RAVAN'S WOOING.
As, clad in mendicant's disguise, He questioned thus his destined prize, She to the seeming saintly man The story of her life began. * My guest is he,' she thought, 4 and I, To 'scape his curse, must needs reply: ' 4 Child of a noble sire I spring From Janak, fair Videha's king. May every good be thine! my name 3s bita, Rama's cherished dame. Twelve winters with my lord I spent Most happily with sweet content In the rich home of Raghu's line, And every earthly joy was mine. Twelve pleasant years flew by, and then His peers advised the king of men, Kama, my lord, to consecrate Joint ruler of his ancient state. But when the rites were scarce begun, To consecrate Ikshvaku's son, The queen Kaikeyi, honoured dame, Sought of her lord an ancient claim. Her plea of former service pressed, And made him grant her new request, To banish Rama to the wild And consecrate instead her child. This double prayer on him, the best And truest king, she strongly pressed: 4 Mine eyes in sleep I will not close, Nor eat, nor drink, nor take repose. This very day my death shall bring If Rama be anointed king.' As thus she spake in envious ire, The aged king, my husband's sire, Besought with fitting words; but she Was cold and deaf to every plea. As yet my days are few; eighteen The years of life that I have seen; And Rarna, best of all alive, Has passed of years a score and five- llama the great and gentle, through All region famed as pure and true, Large-eyed and mighty -armed and tall. With tender heart that cares for all. But Dasaratha, led astray By woman's wile and passion's sway, By his strong love of her impelled, The consecrating rites withheld. Whea, hopeful of the promised grace, My R5ma sought his father's face, The queen Kaikeyi, ill at ease, Spoke to my lord brief words like these: 4 Hear, son of Raghu, hear from me The words thy father says to thee: 1 1 yield this day to Bharat's hand, Free from all foes, this ancient land. Fly from this home no longer thine, And dwell in woods five years and nine. Live in the forest and maintain Mine honour pure from falsehood's stain.' Then Rama spoke, untouched by dread; ' Yea, it shall be as thou hast said.' And answered, faithful to his vows, Obeying Dasaratha's spouse: ' The offered realm I would not take, But still keep true the words he spake.' Thus, gentle Brahman, Rdma still Clung to his vow with firmest will. And valiant Lakshman, dear to fame, His brother by a younger dame, Bold victor in the deadly fray, Would follow Rama on his way. On sternest vows his heart was set, And lie, a youthful anchoret, Bound up in twisted coil his hair And took the garb which hermits wear; Then with his bow to guard us, lie Went forth with Rama and with me. By Queen KaiUeyi's art bereft The kingdom and our home we left, And bound by stern religious vows We sought this shade of forest boughs. Now, best of Brahmans, here we tread These pathless regions dark and dread, But come, refresh thy soul, and rest Here for a while an honoured guest. For he, my lord, will soon be here With fresh supply of woodland cheer, Large store of venison of the buck, Or some great boar his hand has struck. Meanwhile, O stranger, grant my prayer: Thy name, thy race, thy birth declare. And why with no companion thou Roamest in Dandak forest now.'
Thus questioned Sita, Rama's dame. Then fierce the stranger's answer came: * Lord of the giant legions, he From whom celestial armies flee,— The dread of hell and earth and sky, Ravan the Rakshas king am I. Now when thy gold -like form I view Arrayed in silks of amber hue, My love, O thou of perfect mould, For all my dames is dead and cold. A thousand fairest women, torn From many a land my home adorn. But come, 'loveliest lady, be The queen of every dame and me. My city Lanka, glorious town, Looks from a mountain's forehead down Canto XLV1JL THE RAM AY AN.
Where ocean with his flash and foam Beats madly on mine island home. With me, O Sita, shalt tliou rove Delighted through each shady grove, Nor shall thy happy breast retain Fond memory of tnis life of pain. In gay attire, a glittering band, Five thousand maids shall round thee stand, And serve thee at thy beck and sign, If thou, fair Sita, wilt be mine.'
Then forth her noble passion broke As thus in turn the lady spoke: 4 Me, me the wife of Kama, him The li"n lord with lion's limb, Strong as the sea, firm as the rock, Like Indra in the battle shock; Tne lord of each auspicious sign, The glory of his princely line, Like some fair Lodli tree strong and tall, The noblest and the best of all, Rama, the heir of happy fate Who keeps his word inviolate, Lord of the lion gait, possessed Of mighty arm and ample chest, llama the lion* warrior, him Wiiose moon bright face no fear can dim, liama, his bridled passions' lord, The darling whom his sire adored, — Me, me tiie true and loving dame Of llama, prince of deathless fame,— Me wouldst thou vainly woo and press? A jackal woo a lioness! Steal from the sun his glory! such Tay hope Lord Rama's wife to touch. Ha! thou hast seen the trees of gold, The sign which dying eyes behold, Tnus seeking, weary of thy life, To win the love of Rama's wife. Fool! wilt thou dare to rend away The famished lion's bleeding prey, Or from the threatening jaws to take The fang of some envenomed snake? What, wouldst thou shake with puny hand Mount Mandar, ' towering o'er the land, Put poison to thy lips and think The deadly cup a harmless drink? With pointed needle touch thine eye, A razor to thy tongue apply, Who wouldst pollute with impious touch The wife whom Rama loves so much? Be round thy neck a millstone tied, And svvirn the sea from side to side; Or raising both thy hands on high Flujk sun and moon from yonder sky; Or let the kindled name be pressed, Wrapt in thy garment, to thy breast; 1 The mountain which was used by the Gods as a churning stick at the Churning of the Ocean.
More wild the thought that seeks to win Rama's dear wife who knows not sin. The fool who thinks with idle aim To gain the love of Rama's dame, With dark and desperate footing makes His way o'er points of iron stakes. As Ocean to a bubbling spring, The lion to a fox, the king Of all the birds that ply the wing To an ignoble crow. As gold to lead of little price, As to the drain ings of the rice The drink they quaff in Paradise, Tne Amrit's heavenly fl^w, As sandal dust with perfume sweet Is t.> the mire that soils our feet.
A tiger to a cat, As the white swan is to the owl, The peacock to the waterfowl, An eagle to a bat, Such is my lord compared with thee; And when with bow and arrows he, Mighty as Indra's self shall see His foeman, armed to slay, Thou, death-doomed lik# the fly that sips The oil that on the altar drips, Shalt cast the morsel from thy lips And lose thy half -won prey..' Thus in high scorn the lady flung Tne biting arrows of her tongue In bitter words that pierced and stung The rover of the night. She ceased. Her gentle cheek grew pale, Her loosened limbs began to fail, And like a plantain in the gale She trembled with affright. He terrible as Death stood nigh, And watched with lierce exulting eye The fear that shook her frame. To terrify the lady more, He counted all his triumphs o'er, Proclaimed the titles that he bore, His pedigree and name.
CANTO XLVIII.
RAVAN'S SPEECH, With knitted brow and furious eye The stranger made his fierce reply: * In me O fairest dame, behold The brother of the King of Gold. The Lord of Ten Necks my title, named Ravan, for might and valour famed. Gods and Gandharva hosts I scare; Snakes, spirits, birds that roam the air Fly from iny coming, wild with fear, Trembling like men when Death is near. Vaisravan once, my brother, wrought To ire, encountered me and fought, THE RAM AY AN.
Boole III.
But yielding to superior might Fled from his home in sore affright.
Lord of the man-drawn chariot, still He dwells on famed Kailasa's hill.
I made the vanquished king resign The glorious car which now is mine,— Pushpak, the far-renowned, that rlies Will-guided through the buxom skies.
Celestial hosts by Indru led Flee from my face disquieted, And where my dreaded feet appear The wind is hushed or breathless is fear.
The troubled waters cease to flow, Each spell-bound wave is mute and still And the tierce sun himself is chill.
Beyond the sea my Lanka stands Filled with fierce forms and giant bands, A glorious city fair to see As Indra's Amaravati, A towering height of solid wall, Flashing afar, surrounds it all, Its golden courts enchant the sight, And gates aglow with lazulite.
Steeds, elephants, and cars are there, And drums' loud music fills the air, Fair trees in lovely gardens grow Whose boughs with varied fruitage glow.
Thou, beauteous Queen, with me shalt dwell In halls that suit a princess well, Thy former fellows shalt forget Nor think of women with regret, No earthly joy thy soul shall miss, And take its fill of heavenly bliss.
Of mortal Kama think no more, Whose terms of days will soon be o'er.
King Dasaratha looked in scorn On Rama though the eldest born, Sent to the woods the weakling fool, And set his darling son to rule.
What, O thou large-eyed dame, hast thou To do with fallen Kama now, From home and kingdom forced to fly, A wretched hermit soon to die?
Accept thy lover, nor refuse The giant king who fondly woos.
<) listen, nor reject in scorn A heart by Kama's arrows torn.
If thou refuse to hear my prayer, Of grief and coming woe beware; For the sad fate will fall on thee Which came on hapless Urvasi, When with her foot she chanced to touch Pururavas, and sorrowed much.1 My little finger raised in fight Were more than match for Rama's might.
O fairest, blithe and happy be 1 The story will be found in GARRETT'S Classical Dictionary. See ADDITIONAL With him whom fortune sends to thee.'
Such were the words the giant said. And Sita's angry eyes were red. She answered in that lonely place The monarch of the giant race: ' Art thou the brother of the Lord Of Gold by all the world adored, And sprung of that illustrious seed Wouldst now attempt this evil deed? I tell thee, impious Monarch, all The giants by thy sin will fall, Whose reckless lord and king thou art, With foolish mind and lawless heart. Yea. one may hope to steal the wife Of Indra and escape with life. But he who Rama's dame would tear From his loved side must needs despair. Yea, one may steal fair Sachi, dame Of Him who shoots the thunder flame, May live successful in his aim And length of day may see; But hope, O giant King, in vain, Though cups of Amrit thou may drain, To shun the penalty and pain Of wronging one like me.'
CANTO XLIX.
THE RAPE OF SIT A'.
The Rakshas monarch, thus addressed, His hands a while together pressed, And straight before her startled eyes Stood monstrous in his giant size. Then to the lady, with the lore Of eloquence, he spoke once more: « Thou scarce,' he cried, ' hast heard aright The glories of my power and might. I borne sublime in air can stand And with these arms upheave the land, Drink the deep flood of Ocean dry And Death with conquering force defy, Pierce the great sun with furious dart And to her depths cleave earth apart. See, thou whom love and beauty blind, I wear each form as wills my mind.'
As thus he spake in burning ire His glowing eyes were red with fire. His gentle garb aside was thrown And all his native shape was shown. Terrific, monstrous, wild, and dread As the dark God who rules the dead, His fiery eyes in fury rolled, His limbs were decked with glittering gold. Like some dark cloud the monster showed, And his fierce breast with fury glowed. The ten-faced rover of the night, With twenty arms exposed to sight, His saintly guise aside had laid And all his giant height displayed.
Canto XLIX.
Canto XLIX.
THE RAM AY AN.
Attired in robes of crimson dye He stood and watched with angry eye The lady in her bright array Resplendent as the dawn of day When from the east the sunbeams break, And to the dark-haired lady spake: 1 If thou would call that lord thine own Whose fame in every world is known, Look kindly on my love, and be Bride of a consort meet for thee.
With me let blissful years be spent, For ne'er thy choice slialt thou repent.
No deed of mine shall e'er displease My darling as she lives at ease.
Thy love for mortal man resign, And to a worthier lord incline.
Ah foolish lady, seeming wise In thine own weak and partial eyes, By what fair graces art thou held To Rama from his realm expelled '?
Misfortunes all his life attend, And his brief days are near their end.
Unworthy prince, infirm of mind!
A woman spoke, and he resigned His home and kingdom and withdrew From troops of friends and retinue.
And sought this forest dark and dread By savage beasts inhabited.'
Thus Ravan urged the lady meet For love, whose words were soft and sweet. Near and more near the giant pressed As love's hot fire inflamed his breast. The leader of the giant crew His arm around the lady threw: Thus Budha1 with ill-omened might Steals Rohini's delicious light. One hand her glorious tresses grasped, One with its ruthless pressure clasped The body of his lovely prize, The Maithil dame with lotus eyes. The silvan Gods in wild alarm Marked his huge teeth and ponderous arm, And from that Death-like presence tied, Of mountain size and towering head. Then seen was Ravaa's magic car Aglow with gold which blazed afar,— The mighty car which asses drew Thundering as it onward flew. He spared not harsh rebuke to chide The lady as she moaned and cried, Then with his arm about her waist His captive in the car he placed. In vain he threatened: long and shrill Bang out her lamentation still, O Rarna! which no fear could stay: But her dear lord was far away. Then rose the fiend, and toward the skies Bore his poor helpless struggling prize: 1 Mercury: to be carefully distinguished from Buddha.
Hurrying through the air above The dame who loathed his proffered love So might a soaring eagle bear A serpent's consort through the air.
As on he bore her through the sky :she shrieked aloud her bitter cry.
As when some wretch's lips complain In agony of maddening pain; * O Lakshrnan, thou whose joy is still To do thine elder brother's will, This fiend, who all disguises wears, From Rama's side his darling tears.
Thou who couldst leave bliss, fortune, all, Yea life itself at duty's call, Dost thou not see this outrage done To hapless me, O llaghu's son?
Tis thine, O victor of the foe, To bring the haughtiest spirit low, How canst thou such an outrage see And let the guilty iiend go free?
Ah, seldom in a moment's time Comes bitter fruit of sin and crime, But in the day of harvest pain Comes like the ripening of the grain.
So thou whom fate and folly lead To ruin for this guilty deed, Shalt die by Kama's arm ere long A dreadful death for hideous wrong.
Ah, too successful in their ends Are Queen Kaikeyi and her friends, When virtuous Rama, dear to fame, Is mourning for his ravished dame.
Ah me, uh me! a long farewell To lawn and glade and forest dell In Janasthan's wild region, where The Cassia trees are bright and fair!
With all your tongues co Rama say That Ravan bears his wife away.
Farewell, a long farewell to thee, O pleasant stream Godavari, Whose rippling waves are ever stirred By many a glad wild water-bird!
All ye to Rama's ear relate The giant's deed and Sitas fate.
0 all ye Gods who love this ground Where trees of every leaf abound. Tell Rama I am stolen hence, 1 pray you all with reverence. On all the living things beside That these dark boughs and coverts hide, Ye flocks of birds, ye troops of deer, I call on you my prayer to hear. All ye to Rama's ear proclaim That Ravan tears away his dame With forceful arms, — his darling wife, Dearer to Rama than his life. O, if he knew I dwelt in hell, My mighty lord, I know full well, Would bring me, conqueror, back to-day, Though Yama's self reclaimed his prey.' Thus from the air the lady sent THE RAM AY AN.
Book III.
With piteous voice her last lament, And as she wept she chanced to see The vulture on a lofty tree. As Kavan bore her swiftly bv, On the dear bird she bent her eye, And with a voice which woe made faint Renewed to him her wild complaint: 4 O see, the king who rules the race Of giants, cruel, tierce and base, Ravan the spoiler bears me hence The helpless prev of violence. This fiend who roves in midnight shade By thee, dear bird, can ne'er be stayed, For he is armed and fierce and strong Triumphant in the power to wrong. For thee remains one only task, To do, kind friend, the thing I ask. To Rama's ear by thee be borne How Sita from her home is torn, And to the valiant Lakshman tell The giant's deed and what befell.'
CANTO L. J AT AT US.
The vulture from his slumber woke And heard the words which Sita spoke. He raised his eye and looked on her, Looked on her giant ravisher. That noblest bird with pointed beak, Majestic as a mountain peak, High on the tree addressed the king Of giants, wisely c tunnelling: « O Ten-necked lord, I firmly hold To faith and laws ordained <>f old, And thou, my brother, shouldst refrain From guilty deeds that shame arid stain. The vulture king supreme in air, Jatayus is the name I bear. Thy captive, known by Sita's name, Is the dear consort and the dame Of Rama Dasaratha's heir \Vho makes the good of all his care. Lord of the world, in might he vies With the great Gods of seas and skies. The law he boasts to keep allows No king to touch another's spouse, And. more than all, a prince's dame High honour and respect rnay claim. Back to the earth thy way incline, Nor think of one who is riot thine. Heroic souls should hold it shame To stoop to deeds which others blame, And all respect by them is shown To dames of others as their own. Not every case of bliss and gain The Scripture's holy texts explain, And subjects, when that light is dim, Look to their prince and follow him.
The king is bliss and profit, lie Is store of treasures fair to see, And all the people's fortunes spring, Their joy and misery, from the king. If, lord of giant race, thy mind Be fickle, false, to sin inclined. How wilt thou kingly place retain? High thrones in heaven no sinners gain. The soul which gentle passions sway Ne'er throws its nobler part away, Nor will the mansion of the base Long be the good man's dwelling-place. Prince Rama, chief of high renown, Has wronged thee not in field or town. Ne'er lias he sinned against thee: how Canst thou resolve to harm him now? If moved by Hurpanklia's prayer The giant Khara sought him there, And fighting fell with baffled aim, His and not Kama's is the blame. Say, mighty lord of giants, say What fault on Rama canst thou lay? What has the world's great master done That thou should steal his precious one? Quick, quick the Maithil dame release; Let Rama's consort g > in peace, Lest scorched by his terrific eye Beneath his wrath thou fall and die Like Vritra when Lord Indra threw Trie lightning flame that smote and slew. Ah fool, with blinded eyes to take Home to thy heart a venomed snake! Ah foolish eyes, too blind to see That Death's dire coils entangle thee! The prudent man his strength will spare, Nor lift a load too great to bear. Content is he with wholsorne food Which gives him life and strength renewed But who would dare the guilty deed That brings no fame or glorious meed, Where merit there is none to win And vengeance soon o'erbakes the sin? My course of life, Pulastya s son, For sixty thousand years' has run. Lord of my kind I still maintain Mine old hereditary reign. I, worn by years, am older far Than th >u, young lord of bow and car, In coat of glittering mail encased And armed with arrows at thy waist, Hut not unchallenged shalt thou go, Or steal the dame without a blow. Tliou canst not, King, before mine eyes Bear off uii3hecked thy lovely prize, Safe as the truth of Scripture bent By no close logic's argument. Stay if thy courage let thee, stay And meet me in the battle fray, And thou shalt stain the earth with gore Falling as Khara fell before.
Rama, clothed in bark, shall smite.
Canto LI.
THE RAM AY AN.
Thee, his proud foe, in deadly fight,— Rama, from whom have oft times fled The Daitya hosts discomfited. No power have 1 to kill or slay: The princely youths are far away, ]Uit soon shaft thou with fearful eye Struck down beneath their arrows lie, But while I yet have life and sense, Thou shalt not, tyrant, carry hence Fair Sita, Kama's honoured queen, With lotus eyes and lovely rnien. Whate'er the pain, whate'er the cost, Though in the struggle life be lost, The will of Raghu's noblest son And Dasaratha must be done. Stay for a while, O Ravan, stay, One hour thy flying car delay, And from that glorious chariot thou Shalt fall like fruit from shaken bough, For I to thee, while yet I live, The welcome of a foe will give.'
CANTO LI.
THE COMBAT.
Ravan's red eyes in fury rolled: Bright with his armlets' flashing gold, In high disdain, by passion stirred He rushed against the sovereign bird. With clash and din and furious blows Of murderous battle met the foes: Thus urged by winds two clouds on high Meet warring in the stormy sky. Then fierce the dreadful combat raged As fiend and bird in war engaged, As if two winged mountains sped To dire encounter overhead. Keen pointed arrows thick and fast, In never ceasing fury cast. Rained hurtling on the vulture king And smote him on the breast and wing. But still that noblest bird sustained The cloud of shafts which Ravan rained, And with strong beak and talons bent The body of his foeman rent. Then wild with rage the ten-necked king Laid ten swift arrows on his string, — Dread as the staff of Death were they, So terrible and keen to slay. Straight to his ear the string he drew, Straight to the mark the arrows flew, And pierced by every iron head The vulture's mangled body bled. One glance upon the car he bent Where Sita wept with shrill lament, Then heedless of his wounds and pain Rushed at the giant king again. Then the brave vulture with the stroke Of his resistless talons broke The giant's shafts and bow whereon The fairest pearls and jewels shone. The monster paused, by rage unmanned: A second bow soon armed his hand, Whence point jd arrows swift and true In hundreds, yea in thousands, flew. The monarch of the vultures, plied With ceaseless darts on every side. Showed like a bird that turns to rest Close covered by the branch-built nest. He shook his pinions to repel The storm of arrows as it fell; Then with his talons snapped in two The mighty bow which Ravan drew. Next with terrinc wing he sniote So fiercely on the giant's coat, The harness, glittering with the glow Of fire, gave way beneath the blow. With storm of murderous strokes he beat The harnessed asses strong and fleet,— Each with a goblin's monstrous face And plates of gold his neck to grace, Then on the car he turned his ire,— The will -moved car that shone like fire, And broke the glorious chariot, broke The golden steps and pole and yoke. The chouris and the silken shade Like the full moon to view displayed, Together with the guards who held Those emblems, to the ground he felled. The royal vulture hovered o'er The driver's head, and pierced and tore With his strong beak and dreaded claws His mangled brow and cheek and jaws. With broken car and sundered bow, His charioteer and team laid low, One arm about the lady wound, Sprang the fierce giant to the ground. Spectators of the combat, all The spirits viewed the monster's fall: Lauding the vulture every one Cried with glad voice, Well done I well done!
But weak with length of days, at last The vulture's strength was failing fast. The fiend again assayed to bear The lady through the fields of air. But when the vulture saw him rise Triumphant with his trembling prize,. Bearing the sword that still was left When other arms were lost or cleft, Once more, impatient of repose, Swift from the earth her champion rose, Hung in the way the fiend would take, And thus addressing Havan spake: * Thou, King of giants, rash and blind, Wilt be the ruin of thy kind, Stealing the wife of Rama, him With lightning scars on chest and limb, A mighty host obeys his will And troops of slaves his palace fill; THE HAM AY AN.
SooJc 111.
His lords of state are wise and true, Kinsmen has lie and retinue.
As thirsty travellers drain the cup, Tiiou drinkest deadly poison up.
The rash and careless fool who heeds No coming fruit of guilty deeds, A few short years of life shall see, And perish doomed to death like thee.
Say whither wilt thou fly to loose Thy neck from Death's entangling noose, Caught like the fish that tinds too late The hook beneath the treacherous bait?
Never, O King— of this be sure — Will Raghu's fiery sons endure, Terrific in their vengeful rage, This insult to their hermitage.
Thy guilty hands this day have done A deed which all reprove and shun, Unworthly of a noble chief, The pillage loved by coward thief.
Stay, if thy heart allow thee, stay And meet me in the deadly fray.
Soon shalt thou stain the earth with gore, And fall as Khara fell before.
The fruits of former deeds o'erpower The sinner in his dying hour: And such a fate on thee, O King, Thy tyranny and madness bring.
Not e'en the Self-existent Lord, Who reigns by all the worlds adored, Would dare attempt a guilty deed Which the dire fruits of crime succeed.'
Tims brave Jatayus, best of birds, Addressed the fiend with moving words, Then ready for the swift attack Swooped down upon the giant's back. Down to the bone the talons went: With many a wound the rlesh was rent: Such blows infuriate drivers deal Their elephants with pointed steel. Fixed in his back the strong beak lay, The talons stripped the flesh away. He fought with claws and beak and wing, And tore the long hair of the king. Still as the royal vulture beat The giant with his wings and feet, Swelled the fiend's lips, his body shook With furious rage too great to brook. About the Maithil dame he cast One huge left arm and held her fast. In furious rage to frenzy fanned He struck the vulture with his hand. Jatayus mocked the vain assay, Arid rent his ten left arms away. Down dropped the severed limbs: anew Ten others from his body grew: Thus bright with pearly radiance glide Dread serpents from the hillock side, Again in wrath the giant pressed The lady closer to his breast, And foot and fist sent blow on blow In ceaseless fury at the foe. So fierce and dire the battle, waged Between those mighty champions, raged j Here was the lord of giants, there The noblest of the birds of air* Thus, as his love of Rama taught, The faithful vulture strove and fought. But Ravan seized his sword and smote His wings 'and side and feet and throat. At mangled side and wing he bled; He fell, and life was almost fled. The lady saw her champion lie, His plumes distained with gory dye, And hastened to the vulture's side Grieving as though a kinsman died. The lord of Lanka's island viewed The vulture as he lay: Whose back like some dark cloud was hued, His breast a paly grey, Like ashes, when by none renewed, The flame has died away. The lady saw with mournful eye.
Her champion press the plain, — The royal bird, her true ally Whom Ravau's might had slain. Her soft arms locked in strict embrace Around his neck she kept, And lovely with her moon-bright face Bent o'er her friend and wept.
CANTO LII.
RAVAN'S FLIGHT.