im roll,
Whence came the tempest o'er his tranquil soul.
He looked, and saw the bold young archer stand,
His bow bent ready in his skilful hand,
Drawn towards the eye; his shoulder well depressed,
And the left foot thrown forward as a rest.

Then was the Hermit-God to madness lashed,
Then from his eye red flames of fury flashed.
So changed the beauty of that glorious brow,
Scarce could the gaze support its terror now.
Hark! heavenly voices sighing through the air:
"Be calm, great ['S]IVA, O be calm and spare!"
Alas! that angry eye's resistless flashes
Have scorched the gentle King of Love to ashes!
But RATI saw not, for she swooned away;
Senseless and breathless on the earth she lay;
Sleep while thou mayst, unconscious lady, sleep!
Soon wilt thou rise to sigh and wake to weep.
E'en as the red bolt rives the leafy bough,
So ['S]IVA smote the hinderer of his vow;
Then fled with all his train to some lone place
Far from the witchery of a female face.

Sad was HIMALAYA'S daughter: grief and shame
O'er the young spirit of the maiden came:
Grief--for she loved, and all her love was vain;
Shame--she was spurned before her youthful train.
She turned away, with fear and woe oppressed,
To hide her sorrow on her father's breast;
Then, in the fond arms of her pitying sire,
Closed her sad eyes for fear of ['S]IVA'S ire.
Still in his grasp the weary maiden lay,
While he sped swiftly on his homeward way.
Thus have I seen the elephant stoop to drink,
And lift a lily from the fountain's brink.
Thus, when he rears his mighty head on high,
Across his tusks I've seen that lily lie.

_CANTO FOURTH._

Canto Fourth.

_RATI'S LAMENT._

Sad, solitary, helpless, faint, forlorn,
Woke KAMA'S darling from her swoon to mourn.
Too soon her gentle soul returned to know
The pangs of widowhood--that word of woe.
Scarce could she raise her, trembling, from the ground,
Scarce dared to bend her anxious gaze around,
Unconscious yet those greedy eyes should never
Feed on his beauty more--gone, gone for ever.

"Speak to me, KAMA! why so silent? give
One word in answer--doth my KAMA live?"
There on the turf his dumb cold ashes lay,
Whose soul that fiery flash had scorched away.
She clasped the dank earth in her wild despair,
Her bosom stained, and rent her long bright hair,
Till hill and valley caught the mourner's