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. There was no moving thence,

Thought, memory, sense were gone :

She heard not now the Tyger's nearer cry,
She thought not on her father now,
Her cold heart's-blood ran back,

Her hand lay senseless on the bough it clasp'd,

Her feet were motionless;

Her fascinated

eyes

Like the stone eye-balls of a statue fix'd,

Yet conscious of the sight that blasted them.

The wind is abroad,

It opens the clouds;

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 shape of man,

The living form and face of Arvalan!...
His hands are spread to clasp her.

But at that sight of dread the maid awoke;
As if a lightning-stroke

Had burst the spell of fear,

Away she broke all franticly and fled.
There stood a temple near beside the way,
An open fane of Pollear, gentle God,
To whom the travellers for protection pray.
With elephantine head and eye severe,

Here stood his image, such as when he seiz'd
And tore the rebel giant from the ground,

With mighty trunk wreath'd round

His impotent bulk, and on his tusks, on high

Impal❜d upheld him between earth and sky.

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 Seiz'd her. That instant the insulted God Caught him aloft, and from his sinuous grasp, As if from some tort catapult let loose, Over the forest hurl'd him all abroad.

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.

Shall this then be thy fate, O lovely Maid, Thus, Kailyal, must thy sorrows then be ended! Her face upon the ground,

Her arms at length extended,

There like a corpse behold her laid,

Beneath the deadly shade.

What if the hungry Tyger, prowling by,
Should snuff his banquet nigh?

Alas, Death needs not now his ministry;
The baleful boughs hang o'er her,

The poison-dews descend.

What power will now restore her,

What God will be her friend?

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,
Unknowing where his joyous way was tending.
He saw the maid where motionless she lay,
And stoopt his flight descending,
And rais'd her from the ground.

Her heavy eye-lids are half clos'd,

Her cheeks are pale and livid like the dead, Down hang her loose arms lifelessly, Down hangs her languid head.

With timely pity touch'd for one so fair,
The gentle Glendoveer

Prest her thus pale and senseless to his breast,