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THE CURSE OF KEHAMA.
X.
And welcome their beloved feet.The gales of Swerga thither fled,And heavenly odours there were shedAbout, below, and overhead;And Earth, rejoicing in their tread,Hath built them up a blooming Bower,Where every amaranthine flowerIts deathless blossom interweavesWith bright and undecaying leaves.
Three happy beings are there here,The Sire, the Maid, the Glendoveer.A fourth approaches, . . . who is thisThat enters in the Bower of Bliss?No form so fair might painter findAmong the daughters of mankind;For death her beauties hath refin’d,And unto her a form hath given,Fram’d of the elements of Heaven;Pure dwelling-place for perfect mind.She stood and gaz’d on sire and child;Her tongue not yet had power to speak,The tears were streaming down her cheek;