A blessing from the father of his bride.
A gentle touch, a whisper through the veil,
Then Timma to the royal judgment bowed,
And slowly moved from out those scenes of joy
And merriment, and reached the palace gate,
Where stood his horse by that dead elephant;
And soon in that confusion that prevailed
Was seen to slowly move a figure veiled,
T'approach the gate, and forthwith Timma swung
That figure on the saddle of his horse,
Then himself leapt and vanished straight from view.
The angry monarch saw their sudden flight,
And as some agèd lion, when sore vexed,
Like thunder roaring, musters all his strength
And stands defiant to face the foe, so stood
The agèd warrior, whose old strength returned,
His breast expanded, and his body raised
Erect, and for the time his age shook off.
Then spake he forth in angry tones like these:
"My only child is gone, and he that brings
My daughter back shall have my highest meed--
Nay, even half my kingdom I will give."
None dared save Bukka to essay the feat,
Who forthwith sprang upon his horse, and soon
O'ertook the running pair, for Timma's horse,
Though deemed the fleetest in the land, now felt
His double weight, his wonted speed decreased.
Then Timma said, "Our foe is nearing fast,
And he is armed, while weapons I have none.
In bridal dress I cannot face the foe,