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Their widow-robes of white,
Each like an Eastern queen.
As on a bridal day,
Move onward to their death ;
The clarions' stirring breath
And swells the woven gold,
That on the agitated air
(VII.) A man and maid of aspect wan and wild, Then, side by side, by bowmen guarded, came;
O wretched father ! O unhappy child ! Them were all eyes of all the throng exploring
Is this the daring man
Kehama's dreadful wrath ?
For not in that innumerable throng
What aggravated wrong
In order'd files the torches flow along,
Incessant as the roar
Of breakers on a rocky shore,
And Ocean to the Tempest raves.
Deep and strong the waters flow.
Here doth the funeral pile appear
And built of precious sandalwood.
Gently they rest their bier;
They wet the face of Arvalan-
-no motion there;
And with a last and loudest cry
They call on Arvalan.
From Book XIII.
It was a goodly sight to see
That venerable tree,
Seeking to strike its root,
Fixing their bearded fibres, round and round, With many a ring and wild contortion wound; Some to the passing wind at times, with sway
Of gentle motion swung ; Others of younger growth, unmoved, were hung Like stone-drops from the cavern's fretted height;
Beneath was smooth and fair to sight,
Came gleams of chequer'd light.
(VII.) They built them here a bower, of jointed cane,
Strong for the needful use, and light and long Was the slight framework rear'd, with little pain; Lithe creepers, then, the wicker sides supply,
And the tall jungle-grass fit roofing gave
Beneath the genial sky.
In such libations, pour'd in open glades,
And duly here, to Marriataly's praise,
Pour'd her melodious lays
Upon the gales of even, And gliding in religious dance along, Moved graceful as the dark-eyed Nymphs of Heaven,
Such harmony to all her steps was given.
Kailyal perform’d the customary rite;
A melancholy smile
Paid to a higher Power his sacrifice;
A resolute, unconquer'd fortitude,
An agony represt, a will resign'd,
There Voomdavee beholds this lower clime,
(ix.) O force of faith! O strength of virtuous will ! Behold him in his endless martyrdom,
Triumphant still !
And yet doth he remain
A second nature, to exist in pain
That to their solitary resting place
They brought the peace of Heaven.
Nor thought of evil ever enter'd here.
Within the circle of that mystic glade ; Submiss he crouch'd before the heavenly maid,
And offer'd to her touch his speckled side; Or with arch'd back erect, and bending head, And eyes half-closed for pleasure, would he stand,
Courting the pressure of her gentle hand.
(x1.) Trampling his path through wood and brake, And canes which crackling fall before his way, And tassel-grass, whose silvery feathers play