Page:Echoes from East and West.pdf/23



O at the Lord of Lanka's hest the messenger began— But ere the word was on his lips, his lips grew pale and wan.

Then for a while, like one amazed, his eye around he cast; And o'er his cheek, as he would speak, a sudden colour past.

The colour past from cheek to eye; he knew not how he spake: "Sir King, Virbahu's gone to sleep, O never more to wake!"

To whom said Ravan sore at heart, his face with sorrow white: "This tale of thine is like unto a vision seen at night.

"My son, whose might kept Gods in dread, hath beggar Rama slain? Hath Fate, then, fell'd the stubborn oak with but a flower-chain?

"Alas, my darling! thou art gone so early!—woe is me! Thro' what great sin of mine have I made thee mine arms to flee?