5.

A thousand pilgrims strain

Arm, shoulder, breast, and thigh, with might and main,

To drag that sacred wain,

And scarce can draw along the enormous load.
Prone fall the frantic votaries in its road,
And, calling on the God,

Their self-devoted bodies there they lay
To pave his chariot-way.

On Jaga-Naut they call:

The ponderous Car rolls on, and crushes all. Through flesh and bones it ploughs its dreadful path. Groans rise unheard; the dying cry,

And death and agony

Are trodden under foot by yon mad throng, Who follow close, and thrust the deadly wheels along.

6.

Pale grows the Maid at this accursed sight:
The yells which round her rise

Have roused her with affright,

And fear hath given to her dilated eyes
A wilder light.

Where shall those eyes be turned? She knows not where!

Downward they dare not look, for there
Is death and horror and despair;

Nor can her patient looks to Heaven repair,
For the huge Idol over her, in air,

Spreads his seven hideous heads, and wide
Extends their snaky necks on every

side:

And all around, behind, before,
The Bridal Car, is the raging rout,
With frantic shout and deafening roar,
Tossing the torches' flames about.

And the double double peals of the drum are there,
And the startling burst of the trumpet's blare;
And the gong, that seems, with its thunders dread.
To astound the living, and waken the dead.
The ear-strings throb as if they were rent,

And the eyelids drop as stunned and spent. Fain would the Maid have kept them fast; But open they start at the crack of the blast.

7.

Where art thou, Son of Heaven, Ereenia! where,
In this dread hour of horror and despair?"
Thinking on him, she strove her fear to quell :
"If he be near me, then will all be well;

And, if he reck not for my misery,
Let come the worst; it matters not to me."
Repel that wrongful thought,

O Maid! thou feelest, but believ'st it not;
It is thine own imperfect nature's fault
That lets one doubt of him arise within.
And this the Virgin knew, and like a sin
Repelled the thought, and still believed him true,
And summoned up her spirit to endure

All forms of fear, in that firm trust secure.

8.

She needs that faith, she needs that consolation; For now the Car hath measured back its track Of death, and hath re-entered now its station. There, in the Temple-court, with song and dance, A harlot-band, to meet the Maid, advance. The drum hath ceased its peals; the trump and gong Are still; the frantic crowd forbear their yells; And sweet it was to hear the voice of song, And the sweet music of their girdle-bells, Armlets and anklets, that, with cheerful sound, Symphonious tinkled as they wheeled around.

9.

They sung a bridal measure,

A song of pleasure,

A hymn of joyance and of gratulation :
"Go, chosen One!" they cried,
"Go, happy bride!

For thee the God descends in expectation!
For thy dear sake

He leaves his Heaven, O Maid of matchless charms !
Go, happy One! the bed divine partake,
And fill his longing arms!"

Thus to the inner fane,

With circling dance and hymeneal strain,
The astonished Maid they led,

And there they laid her on the bridal bed. Then forth they go, and close the Temple-gate, And leave the wretched Kailyal to her fate.

10.

Where art thou, Son of Heaven, Ereenia! where?"
From the loathed bed she starts, and in the air
Looks up, as if she thought to find him there;
Then, in despair,

Anguish and agony, and hopeless prayer,
Prostrate she laid herself upon the floor.
There, trembling as she lay,
The Bramin of the fane advanced,
And came to seize his prey;

But, as the abominable Priest drew nigh,
A power invisible opposed his way.
Starting, he uttered wildly a death-cry,
And fell. At that the Maid all eagerly
Lifted in hope her head;

She thought her own deliverer had been near;
When, lo! with other life re-animate,
She saw the dead arise;

And, in the fiendish joy within his eyes,
She knew the hateful Spirit who looked through
Their specular orbs: clothed in the flesh of man,
She knew the accursed Soul of Arvalan.

11.

"Where art thou, Son of Heaven, Ereenia! where?"
But not in vain, with sudden shriek of fear,
She calls Ereenia now; the Glendoveer
Is here! Upon the guilty sight he burst
Like lightning from a cloud, and caught the accurst,
Bore him to the roof aloft, and on the floor

With vengeance dashed him, quivering there in gore.
Lo! from the pregnant air, heart-withering sight,
There issued forth the dreadful Lorrinite.
"Seize him!" the Enchantress cried:
A host of Demons at her word appear,
And, like tornado-winds, from every side
At once they rush upon the Glendoveer.
Alone against a legion, little here
Avails his single might;

Nor that celestial falchion, which in fight
So oft had put the rebel race to flight.
There are no Gods on earth to give him aid :
Hemmed round, he is overpowered, beat down, and

bound,

And at the feet of Lorrinite is laid.

12.

Meantime the scattered members of the slain,
Obedient to her mighty voice, assumed
Their vital form again;

And that foul Spirit, upon vengeance bent,
Fled to the fleshly tenement.

"Lo! here," quoth Lorrinite, "thou seest thy foe! Him in the Ancient Sepulchres, below

The billows of the Ocean, will I lay :
Gods are there none to help him now, and there
For Man there is no way.

To that dread scene of durance and despair,
Azuras, bear your enemy! I go

To chain him in the Tombs. Meantime, do thou,