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 But lo ! Presently at his side the queeen, Her ringlets flying to the morning breeze, Like water nymph or forest Drayd stepped; And looked steadfast with eye unlided like Some modern mesmerist over his subject, At that fair prince. But he like one in trance Mesmeric, stood absorbed. And she advantaged by his absent mood, Stole softly round his neck her snowy arm And softly thus began, "Makest thou prince How now the Lord of Day from every bud Kisses the sleep away, that blushing wakes And opens her fairy lids ? The butterfly Robbed in his gandy silks wooes every bloom, But Wooes to quit - reckless wanton he ! And lo ! that Malati twinning as it does The Kulaya's tall and aged trunk hold up Her odorous blossms to frolic Zephyr's kiss, In nature all his playful, all his mirth, And beauteous things to beauteous things are linked." And here a meaning look she cast at him, But he ghastly look returned, and slipped From her side as if to pluck a lotus That at the margin below.

"Softly my prince! Disturb not so the amours of the pair Of ruddy geese, from nights' separation sore, That lately met. 'Tis but a dreary waste గురుజాడలు