Stood, like a warrior coming with his spoils,
The beast beside him, which, worn out, fell dead.
And as the tall and massive gate of some
Old fort with spikes deep driven to withstand
The foe, who battered it incessant, falls,
And, powerless to stand the shock, at last
Falls with a crash that far and wide was heard,
So fell the beast, his massive corpse all torn
And mangled, and with jav'lins planted deep,
And when he fell from his huge throat went forth
A wail, his last, like roaring thunder, that
Resounded through the hills of Vijiapore.
Another moment and brave Timma sat
Upon the bridal seat, the veil was drawn,
And, through the veil, the sacred knot was tied
Round Chandra's neck, and all was merry there.
And still another moment when--alas!
For that strange fickleness of human life
Whose joys and griefs each other follow like
The spokes of some fast-going wheel--there came
The wounded Bukka with a violent wail
That Timma had the king's adviser slain,
Whose body lay upon the riverside,
Exposed to all the carrion birds of prey,
And him too wounded, but the arrow pierced
Not deep, but laid him senseless for awhile;
But soon, with consciousness restored, his wound
He washed, and straightway hastened on his steed,
In time to tell the story, sad but true,
And stop the marriage of that coward with