Again he spake: ' In spite of thee This golden city will I see, Her gates and towers, and all the pride Of street and square from side to side, And freely wander where I please Amid her groves of flowering trees; On all her beauties sate mine eye. Then, as I came, will homeward hie.'
Swift with an angry roar she smote With her huge hand the Vftnar's throat, The smitten VYmar, rage-impelled, With fist upraised the monster felled: But quick repented, stirred with shame And pity for a vanquished dame. When with her senses troubled, weak With terror, thus she strove to apeak: ' O spare me thou whose' aim is strong: O spare me, and forgive the wrong.
1 So in Paradise Lost Satan when he lias stealthily entered the garden of Eden flHHiirnptt flip fnrm r»f a onrmnvjinf The brave that law will ne'er transgress That spares a woman's helplessness. Hear, best of Vanars, brave and bold, What Brahma's self of yore foretold; * Beware,' he said, * the fatal hour When thou shalt own a Vanar's power. Then is the giants' day of fear, For terror and defeat are near.' Now, Vanar chief, o'ercome by thee, I own the truth of heaven's decree. For Sita's sake will ruin fall On Ravan, and his town, and all.'
CANTO IV.
WITHIN THE CITY.
The guardian goddess thus subdued, The Vanar chief his way pursued, Aud reached the broad imperial street Where fresh-blown flowers were bright and sweet.
and sweet.
The city seemed a fairer sky Where cloud-like houses rose on high, Whence the soft sound of tabors came Through many a latticed window frame, And ever and anon rang out The merry laugh and joyous shout, From house to house the Vanar went And marked each varied ornament, Where leaves and blossoms deftly strung About the crystal columns hung. Then soft and full and sweet and clear The song of women charmed his ear, And, blending with their dulcet tones, Their anklets' chime and tinkling zones, He heard the Rakshas minstrels sing The praises of their matchless king; And softly through the evening air Came murmurings of text and prayer. Here moved a priest witu tonsured head, And there an eager envoy sped, Mid crowds with hair in matted twine Clothed in the skins of deer and kine, — Whose only arms, which none might bJame, Were blades of grass and holy flame.1 There savage warriors roamed in bands With clubs and maces in their hands, Some dwarfish forms, some huge of size, With single ears and single eyes. Some shone in glittering mail arrayed With bow and mace and flashing blade; Fiends of all shapes and every hue, Some tierce and foul, some fair to view.
1 Priests who fought only with the wea- pons of religion, the sacred grass used like the verbena of the Romans at sacred ritea and the consecrated tire to consume the Farinnr r\f o-Vioo Canto VII.
THE HA MAYAN.
He saw the grisly legions wait In strictest watch at Ravan's gate, Whose palace on the mountain crest Kose proudly towering o'er the rest, Fenced with high ramparts from the foe, And lotus-covered rnoats below. But Hanuman, unhindered, found Quick passage through the guarded bound, fliid elephants of noblest breed, And gilded car and neighing steed.
CANTO VI,1 THE COURT.
The palace gates were guarded well By many a Kakshas sentinel, And far within, concealed from view, Were dames and female retinue For oharm of form and face renowned; Whose tinkling armlets made a sound, Clashed by the wearers in their glee, Like music of a distant sea.
The hall beyond the palace gate, Kich with each badge of royal state, 1 I omit Canto V. which corresponds to chapter XI. in Gorresio's edition. That scholar justly observes: " The eleventh chapter, Description of Evening, is cer- tainly the work of the Rhapsodists and an interpolation of later date. The chap- ter might be omitted without any injury to the action of the poem, and besides the metre, style, conceits and images differ from the general tenour of the poem; and that continual repetition of the same sounds at the end of each hemistich which is not exactly rime, but assonance, reveals the artificial labour of a more recent age.' The following sample will probably be enough. I am unable to show the differ- ence of style in a translation: Fair shone the moon, as if to lend His cheering light to guide a friend, And, circled by the starry host, Looked down upon the wild sea-coast. The Vanar chieftain raised his eyes, And saw him sailing through the skies Like a bright swan who joys to take His pastime on a silver lake; Fair moon that cairns the mourner's pain, Heaves up the waters of the main, And o'er the life beneath him throws A tender light of soft repose, The charm that clings to Mandar's hill, Gleams in the sea when winds are still, And decks the lilly's opening flower, bhowed in that moon her sweetest power.
Where lines of noble courtiers stood, Showed like a lion-guarded wood.
There the wild music rose and fell Of drum and tabor and of shell, Through chambers at each holy tide By solemn worship sanctified.
Through grove and garden, undismayed, From house to house the Vanar strayed, And still his wondering glances bent On terrace, dome, and battlement: Then with a light and rapid tread Prahasta's1 home he visited.
And Kumbhakarna's2 courtyard where A cloudy pile rose high in air; And, wandering o'er the hill, explored The garden of each Rakshas lord.
Each court and grove lie wandered through, Then nigh to Ravan's palace drew. She-demons watched it foul of face, Eace armed with sword and spear and mace, And warrior fiends of every hue, A strange and fearful retinue, There elephants in many a row, The terror of the stricken foe. Huge Airavat,3 deftly trained In battle-fields, stood ready chained. Fair litters on the ground were set Adorned with gems and golden net, Gay bloomy creepers clothed the walls; Green bowers were there and picture halls, And chambers made for soft delight. Broad banners waved on every height, And from the roof like Mandar's hill The peacock's cry came loud and shrill.4 CANTO VII.
RAVAN'S PALACE.
He passed within the walls and gazed On gems and gold that round him blazed, And many a latticed window bright With turkis and with lazulite.
1 One of the Rakshas lords.
2 The brother Ravan.
3 Indra's elephant.
4 Ravan's palace appears to have occu- pied the 'whole extent.of ground, and to have contained within its outer walls the mansions of all the great Ilakshas chiefs, liavaii's own dwelling seems to have been situated within the enchanted chariot Pushpak: but the description is involved and confused, and it is difficult to say whether the chariot was inside the palace or the palace inside the chariot.
THE RAM AY AN.
Boole V.
Through porch and ante-rooms he passed Each richer, fairer than the last; And spacious halls were lances lay, And bows and shells, in fair array: A glorious house that matched in show All Paradise displayed below. Upon the polished floor were spread Fresh buds and blossoms white and red, And women shone, a lovely crowd, As lightning flashes through a cloud: A palace splendid as the sky Which moon and planets glorify: Like earth whose towering hills unfold Their zones and streaks of glittering gold; Where waving on the mountain brows The tall trees bend their laden boughs, And every bough and tender spray With a bright load of bloom is gay, And every flower the breeze has bent Fills all the region with its scent. Near the tall palace pale of hue Shone lovely lakes where lilies blew, And lotuses with flower and bud Gleamed on the bosom of the flood. There shone with gems that flashed afar The mantel of the Flower-named1 car, Mid wondrous dwellings still confessed Supreme and nobler than the rest. Thereon with wondrous art designed Were turkis birds of varied kind, And many a sculptured serpent rolled His twisted coil in burnished gold. And steeds were there of noblest fo'rm With flying feet as fleet as storm: And elephants with deftest skill Stood sculptured by a silver rill, Each bearing on his trunk a wreath Of lilies from the flood beneath. There Lakshmi,2 beauty's heavenly queen, Wrought by the artist's skill, was seen Beside a flower-clad pool to stand Holding a lotus in her hand.
CANTO VIII.
THE ENCHANTED CAB.
There gleamed the car with wealth unt Of precious gems and burnished gold; 1 Pushpak from pusJipa a flower. The car has been mentioned before in Ravan's expedition to carry off Sita, Book III. Canto XXXV.
58 Lakshmi is the wife of Vishnu and the Goddess of Beauty and Felicity! She rose, like Aphrodite, from the foam of the sea. For an account of her birth and beauty, see Book 1. Canto XLV.
Nor could the Wind-God's son withdraw His rapt gaze from the sight he saw, By Visvakarma's1 self proclaimed The noblest work his hand had framed.
Uplifted in the air it glowed Bright as the sun's diurnal road.
The eye might scan the wondrous frame And vainly seek one spot to blame, r>o fine was every part and fair With gems inlaid with lavish care.
No precious stones so rich adorn The cars wherein the Gods are borne.
Prize of the all-resistless might That sprang from pain and penance rite,* Obedient to the master's will It moved o'er wood and towering hill, A glorious marvel well designed By Viivakarma's artist mind, Adorned with every fair device That decks the cars of Paradise.
Swift moving as the master chose It flew through air or sank or rose,3 And in its fleetness left behind The fury of the rushing wind: Meet mansion for the good and great, The holy, wise, and fortunate.
Throughout the chariot's vast extent Were chambers wide and excellent, All pure and lovely to the eyes As moonlight shed from cloudless skies.
Fierce goblins, rovers of the night Who cleft the clouds with swiftest flight In countless hosts that chariot drew, With earrings clashing as they flew.
CANTO IX. THE LADIES BOWER.
Where stately mansions rose around, A palace fairer still he found, Whose royal height and splendour showed Where Jttavan's self, the king, abode. A chosen band with bow and sword Guarded the palace of their lord, Where Rakshas dames of noble race And many a princess fair of face Whom Ravan's arm had torn away From vanquished kings in slumber lay.
1 Visvakarma is the architect of the Gods, the Hephaestos or Mulciber of the Indian heaven.
a Kavan in the resistless power which his long austerities had endowed him with, had conquered his brother Kuvera the God of Gold and taken from him his greatest treasure this enchanted car.
3 Like Milton's heavenly car: 'Itself instinct with spirit.'
Canto X.
THE RAM AY AN.
There jewelled arches high o'erhead An ever-changing lustre shed From ruby, pearl, and every gem On golden pillars under them.
Delicious came the tempered air That breathed a heavenly summer there, Stealing through bloomy trees that bore Each pleasant fruit in endless store.
No check was there from jealous guard, No door was fast, no portal barred; Only a sweet air breathed to meet The stranger, as a host should greet A wanderer of his kith and kin And woo his weary steps within.
He stood within a spacious hall With fretted roof and painted wall, The giant Ravan's boast and pride, Loved even as a lovely bride.
'Twere long to tell each marvel there, The crystal floor, the jewelled stair, The gold, the silver, and the shine Of chrysolite and almandine.
There breathed the fairest blooms of spring; There flashed the proud swan's silver wing, The splendour of whose feathers broke Through fragrant wreaths of aloe smoke.
' Tis Indra's heaven,' the Vanar cried, Gazing in joy from side to side; 4 The home of all the Gods is this, The mansion of eternal bliss.'
There were the softest carpets spread, Delightful to the sight and tread, Where many a lovely woman lay Overcome by sleep, fatigued with play.
The wine no longer cheered the feast, The sound of revelry had ceased.
The tinkling feet no longer stirred, No chiming of a zone was heard.
So when each bird has sought her nest, And swans are mute and wild bees rest, Sleep the fair lilies on the lake Till the sun's kiss shall bid them wake.
Like the calm field of winter's sky Which stars unnumbered glorify, So shone and glowed the sumptuous room With living stars that chased the gloom.
• These are the stars,' the chieftain cried, 'In autumn nights that earth-ward glide, In brighter forms to reappear And shine in matchless lustre here.'
With wondering eyes a while he viewed Each graceful form and attitude.
One lady's head was backward thrown, Bare was her arm and loose her zone.
The garland that her brow had graced Hung closely round another's waist.
Here gleamed two little feet all bare Of anklets that had spark led there, Here lay a queenly dame at rest In all her glorious garments dressed, There slept another whose small hand Had loosened every tie and band, In careless grace another lay With gems and jewels cast away, Like a young creeper when the tread Of the wild elephant has spread Confusion and destruction round, And cast it flowerless to the ground.
Here lay a slumberer still as death, Save only that her balmy breath Raised ever and anon the lace That floated o'er her sleeping face.
There, sunk in sleep, an amorous maid Her sweet head on a mirror laid, Like a fair lily bending till Her petals rest upon the rill.
Another black-eyed damsel pressed Her lute upon her heaving breast, As though her loving arms were twined Round him for whom her bosom pined.
Another pretty sleeper round A silver vase her arms had wound, That seemed, so fresh and fair and young A wreath of flowers that o'er it hung.
In sweet disorder lay a throng Weary of dance and play and song, Where heedless girls had sunk to rest One pillowed on another's breast, Her tender cheek half seen beneath Bed roses of the falling wreath, The while her long soft hair concealed The beauties that her friend revealed.
With limbs at random interlaced Round arm and leg and throat and waist, That wreath of women lay asleep Like blossoms in a careless heap.
CANTO X. RAVAN ASLEEP.
Apart a dais of crystal rose With couches spread for soft repose, Adorned with gold and gems of price Meet for the halls of Paiadise. A canopy was o'er them spread Pale as the light the moon beams shed, And female figures,1 deftly planned, The faces of the sleepers fanned. There on a splendid couch, asleep On softest skins of deer and sheep. Dark as a cloud that dims the day The monarch of the giants lay, Perfumed with sandal's precious scent And gay with golden ornament.
1 Women, says Valmiki. But the Com- mentator says that automatic figures only are meant. Women would have seen Hanuman and given the alarm.
THE RAMA YAN.
Boole V.
ttis fiery eyes in slumber closed, In glittering robes the king reposed Like Mandar's mighty hill asleep With flowery trees that clothe his steep. Near and more near the Vanar drew The monarch of the fiends to view, And saw the giant stretched supine Fatigued with play and drunk with wine. While, shaking all the monstrous frame, His breath like hissing serpents' came. With gold and glittering bracelets gay His mighty arms extended lay Huge as the towering shafts that bear The flag of Indra high in air. Scars by Airavat's tusk impressed Showed red upon his shaggy breast. And on his shoulders were displayed The dints the thunder-bolt had made.1 The spouses of the giant king Around their lord were slumbering, And, gay with sparkling earrings, shone Fair as the moon to look upon. There by her husband's side was seen Mandodari the favourite queen, The beauty of whose youthful face Beamed a soft glory through the place. The Vanar marked the dame more fair Than all the royal ladies there, And thought, 'These rarest beauties speak The matchless dame I come to seek. Peerless in grace and splendour, she The Maithil queen must surely be.'
CANTO XT.
THE BANQUET HALL.
But soon the baseless thought was spurned And longing hope again returned: 'No: Kama's wife is none of these, No careless dame that lives at ease. Her widowed heart has ceased to care For dress and sleep and dainty fare. She near a lover ne'er would lie Though Indra wooed her from the sky. Her own, her only lord, whom none Can match in heaven, is Raghu's son.'
Then to the banquet hall intent On strictest search his steps he bent. He passed within the door, and found Fair women sleeping on the ground, Where wearied with the song, perchance, The merry game, the wanton dance, Each girl with wine and sleep oppressed 1 Ravan had fought against Indra and the Gods,' and his body was still scarred by the wounds inflicted by the tusks of Indra's elephant and by the fiery bolts of the Thunderer.
Had sunk her drooping head to rest. That spacious hall from side to side With noblest fare was well supplied, There quarters of the boar, and here Roast of the buffalo and deer. There on gold plate, untouched as yet, The peacock and the hen were set. There deftly mixed with salt and curd Was meat of many a beast and bird, Of kid and porcupine and hare, And dainties of the sea and air. There wrought of gold, ablaze with shine Of precious stones, were cups of wine. Through court and bower and banquet hall The Vanar passed and viewed them all j From end to end, in every spot, For Sita searched, but found her not.
CANTO XII.
THE SEARCH RENEWED.
Again the Vanar chief began Each chamber, bower, and hall to scan. In vain: he found not her he sought, And pondered thus in bitter thought: ' Ah me the Maithil queen is slain: She, ever true and free from stain, The fiend's entreaty has denied. And by his cruel hand has died. Or has she sunk, by terror killed, When first she saw the palace filled With female monsters evil-miened Who wait upon the robber fiend? No battle fought, no might displayed, In vain this anxious search is made; Nor shall my steps, made slow by shame, Because I failed to find the dame, Back to our lord the king be bent, For he is swift to punishment. In every b^wer my feet have been, The dames of Ravan have I seen; But Kama's spouse I seek in vain, And all my toil is fruitless pain. How shall I meet the Vanar band I left upon the ocean strand? How, when they bid me speak, proclaim These tidings of defeat and shame? How shall I look on Angad's eye? What words will Jambavan reply? Yet dauntless hearts will never fail To win success though foes assail, And I this sorrow will subdue And search the palace through and through, Exploring with my cautious tread Each spot as yet unvisited.'
Again he turned him to explore Each chamber, hall, and corridor, And arbour bright with scented bloom. And lodge and cell and picture-room.
Canto XIV, THE RAM A TAN.
With eager eye and noiseless feet He passed through many a cool retreat Where women lay in slumber drowned; But bit& still wab nowhere found.
CANTO XIII.
DESPAIR AND HOPE, Then rapid as the lightning's flame From Ravan's halls the Vanar came.
Each lingering hope was cold and dead, And thus within his heart he said: * Alas, my fruitless search is done: Long have I toiled for Haghu's son; And yet with all my care have seen No traces of the ravished queen.
It may be, while the giant through The lone air with his captive flew, The Maithil lady, tender-souled, Slipped struggling from the robber's hold, And the wild sea is rolling now O'er Sita of the beauteous brow.
Or did she perish of alarm When circled by the monster's arm?
Or crushed, unable to withstand The pressure of that monstrous hand?
Or when she spurned his suit with scorn, Her tender limbs were rent and torn, And she, her virtue unsubdued, Was slaughtered for the giant's food.
Shall I to Raghu's son relate His well-beloved consort's fate, My crime the same if I reveal The mournful story or conceal?
If with no happier tale to tell I seek our mountain citadel, How shajll I face our lord the king, And meet his angry questioning?
How shall I greet my friends, and brook The muttered taunt, the scornful look?
How to the son of Raghu go And kill him with my tale of woe?
For sure the mournful tale I bear Will strike him dead with wild despair, And Lakshman, ever fond and true, Will, undivided, perish too.
Bharat will learn his brother's fate, And die of grief disconsolate, And sad Satrughna with a cry Of anguish on his corpse will die.
Our king Sugriva, ever found.
True to each bond in honour bound, Will mourn the pledge he vainly gave, And die with him he could not save.
Then Kuma his divoted wife For her dead lord will leave her life, And Tara, widowed and forlorn, Will die in anguish, sorrow-worn.
)n Angad too the blow will fall billing the hope and joy of all. The ruin of their prince and king Dhe Va liars' souls with woe will wring, And each, overwhelmed with dark despair, Will beat his head and rend his hair. Each, graced and honoured long, will iniss His careless life of easy bliss, [ri happy troops will play no more Dn breezy rock and shady shore, But with his darling wife and child Will seek the mountain top, and wild With hopeless desolation, throw Himself, his wife, and babe, below. Ah no: miless the dame I find [ ne'er will meet my Vanar kind. Here rather in some distant dell * A lonely hermit will 1 dwell, Where roots and berries will supply My humble wants until I die; Or on the shore will raise a pyre And perish in the kindled fire. Or I will strictly fast until With slow decay my life I kill, And ravening dogs and birds of air The limbs of Hanunmn shall tear. Here will I die, but never bring Destruction on my race and king. But still unsearched one grove I see With many a bright AsoKa tree, There will I enter in, and through The tangled shade my search renew. Be glory to the host on high, The Sun and Moon who light the sky, The Vasus1 and the Maruts'* train, Adityas3 and the Asvins4 twain. So may I win success, and bring The lady back with triumphing,' CANTO XIV.
THE ASOKA GROVE.
He cleared the barrier at a bound; He stood within the pleasant ground, 1 The Vasus are a class of eight deities, originally personifications of natural phe- nomena.
2 The Maruts are the winds or Storm- Gods.
3 The Adit3ras were originally seven deities of the heavenly sphere of whom Varuna is the chief. The name Aditva was afterwards given to any God, specially to Surya the Sun.
4 The Asvins are the Heavenly Twinst the Castor and Pollux of the Hindus.
THE RAM AY AN.
JBoolc V.
And with delighted eyes surveyed The climbing plants and varied shade. He saw unnumbered trees unfold The treasures of their pendent gold, As, searching for the Maithil queen, He strayed through alleys soft and green; And when a spray he bent or broke Some little bird that slept awoke. Whene'er the breeze of morning blew, Where'er a startled peacock flew, The gaily coloured branches shed Their flowery rain upon his head That clung around the Vanar till He seemed a blossom-covered hill.1 The earth, on whose fair bosom lay The flowers that fell from every spray, Was glorious as a lovely maid In all her brightest robes arrayed. He saw the breath of morning shake The lilies on the rippling lake Whose waves a pleasant lapping made On crystal steps with gems inlaid. Then roaming through the enchanted ground, ground, A pleasant hill the Vanar found, And grottoes in the living stone With grass and flowery trees o'ergrpwn. Through rocks and boughs a brawling rill Leapt from the bosom of the hill, Like a proud beauty when she flies From her love's arms with angry eyea. He clomb a tree that near him grew And leafy shade around him threw. ' Hence,' thought the Vanar, ' shall I see The Maithil dame, if here she be, These lovely trees, this cool retreat Will surely tempt her wandering feet. Here the sad queen will roam apart, And dream of Rama in her heart.'
CANTO XV.
Fair as Kailasa white with snow He saw a palace flash and glow, A crystal pavement gem-inlaid, And coral steps and colonnade, And glittering towers that kissed the skies, Whose dazzling splendour charmed his eyes.
There pallid, with neglected dress, Watched close by fiend and giantess, Her sweet face thin with constant flow Of tears, with fasting and with woe; Pale as the young moon's crescent when The first faint light returns to men: 1 The poet forgets that Hanuman has Dim as the flame when clouds of smoke The latent glory hide and choke; Like Rohini the queen of stars Oppressed by the red planet Mars; From her dear friends and husband torn, Amid the cruel fiends, forlorn, Who fierce-eyed watch around her kept, A tender woman sat and wept.
Her sobs, her sighs, her mournful mien, Her glorious eyes, proclaimed the queen.
*This, this is she,' the Vanar cried, * Fair as the moon and lotus-eyed, I saw the giant Ravan bear A captive through the fields of air.
Such was the beauty of the dame; Her form, her lips, her eyes the same.
This peerless queen whom I behold Is Rama's wife with limbs of gold, Best of the sons of men is he, And worthy of her lord is she.'
CANTO XVI.
HANUMAN'S LAMENT, Then, all his thoughts on Sita bent, The Vanar chieftain made lament: ' The queen to Rama's soul endeared, By Lakshman's pious heart revered, Lies here, — for none may strive with Fate, A captive, sad and desolate.
The brothers' might full well she knows, And bravely bears the storm of woes, As swelling Ganga in the rains The rush of every flood sustains.
Her lord, for her, fierce Bali slew, Viradha's monstrous might o'erthrew, For her the fourteen thousand slain In Janasthan bedewed the plain.
And if for her Ikshvaku's son Destroyed the world 'twere nobly done.
This, this is she, so far renowned, Who sprang from out the furrowed ground, * Child of the high-souled king whose sway The men of Mithila obey: The glorious lady wooed and won By Dasaratha's noblest son; And now these sad eyes look on her Mid hostile fiends a prisoner.
From home and every bli*s she fled By wifely love and duty led, And, heedless of a wanderer's woes, A life in lonely forests chose.
This, this is she so fair of mould, Whose limbs are bright as burnished gold, 1 Sita 'not of woman born,' was found by King Janak as he was turning up the ground in preparation for a sacrifice, See I Canto XV III.
THE RAM AY AN.
Whose voice was ever soft and mild. Who sweetly spoke and sweetly smiled. O, what is Rama's misery! how He longs to see his darling now! Pining for one of her fond looks AH one athirst for water-brooks. Absorbed in woe the lady sees No Rakshas guard, no blooming trees, Her eyes are with her thoughts, and they Are fixed on Rama far away/ CANTO XVII.
CANTO XVIIL SITA'S GUARD, His pitying eyes with tears bedewed, The weeping queen again he viewed. And saw around the prisoner stand Her demon guard, a fearful band: Some earless, some with ears that hung Low as their feet and loosely swung: Some fierce with single ears and eyes, Some dwarfish, some of monstrous size:^ Some with their dark necks long and thin With hair upon the knotty skin: Some with wild locks, some bald and bare, Some covered o'er with bristly hair: Some tal 1 and straigh t,some bowed and bent With every foul disfigurement: All black and fierce with eyes of fire, Ruthless and stern and swift to ire: Some with the jackal's jaw and nose, Some faced like boars and buffaloes: Some with the heads of goats and kine, Of elephants, and dogs, and swine: With lions' lips and horses' brows, They walked with feet of mules and cows: > Swords, maces, clubs, and spears they bore In hideous hands that reeked with gore, And, never sated, turned afresh To bowls of wine and piles of flesh. Such were the awful guards who stood Round Sita in that lovely wood, While in her lonely sorrow she Wept sadly neath a spreading tree. He watched the spouse of Rama there Regardless of her tangled hair, Her jewels stripped from neck and limb, Decked only with her love of him.