A human form in that black night, Distinctly shaped by its own lurid light, Such light as the sickly moon is seen to shed, Through spell-raised fogs, a bloody baleful red. 12. That Spectre fix'd his eyes upon her full; The light which shone in their accursed orbs Was like a light from Hell, And it grew deeper, kindling with the view. She could not turn her sight From that infernal gaze, which like a spell Bound her, and held her rooted to the ground. It palsied every power, Her limbs avail'd her not in that dread hour, Her hand lay senseless on the bough it clasp'd, Her fascinated eyes Like the stone eye-balls of a statue fix'd, Yet conscious of the sight that blasted them. 13. The wind is abroad, Scattered before the gale, They skurry through the sky, And the darkness retiring rolls over the vale. The Stars in their beauty come forth on high, And through the dark blue night The Moon rides on triumphant, broad and bright. Distinct and darkening in her light Appears that Spectre foul, The moon-beam gives his face and form to sight, The living form and face of Arvalan!... 14. But at that sight of dread the Maid awoke; Had burst the spell of fear, Away she broke all franticly, and fled. With mighty trunk wreathed round 15. Thither the affrighted Maiden sped her flight, And she hath reach'd the place of sanctuary; And now within the temple in despite, Yea, even before the altar, in his sight, Hath Arvalan with fleshly arm of might That instant the insulted God Seized her. Caught him aloft, and from his sinuous grasp, As if from some tort catapult let loose, Over the forest hurl'd him all abroad. 16. O'ercome with dread, She tarried not to see what heavenly Power Had saved her in that hour; Breathless and faint she fled. And now her foot struck on the knotted root Of a broad manchineil, and there the Maid Fell senselessly beneath the deadly shade. VI. CASYAPA. 1. SHALL this then be thy fate, O lovely Maid, What if the hungry Tyger, prowling by, 2. Bright and so beautiful was that fair night, It might have calm'd the gay amid their mirth, And given the wretched a delight in tears. One of the Glendoveers, The loveliest race of all of heavenly birth, Hovering with gentle motion o'er the earth, Amid the moonlight air, In sportive flight was floating round and round, Her heavy eye-lids are half closed, 3. With timely pity touch'd for one so fair, Press'd her thus pale and senseless to his breast, Where Himakoot, the holy Mount, on high 4. The Father of the Immortals sate, Knowest thou, he said, my child, |