1081.

Goddess [angel]? or peafowl rare?

She whose ears rich jewels wear,

Is she a maid of human kind?

All wildered is my mind!

1082.

She of the beaming eyes,

To my rash look her glance replies,

As if the matchless goddess' [angel's] hand

Led forth an armed band.

1083.

Death's form I formerly

Knew not; but now 'tis plain to me:

He comes in lovely maiden's guise,

With soul-subduing eyes.

1084.

In sweet simplicity,

A woman's gracious form hath she;

But yet those eyes, that drink my life,

Are with the form at strife!

1085.

The light that on me gleams,

Is it death's dart? or eye's bright beams?

Or fawn's shy glance? All three appear

In form of maiden here.

1086.

If cruel eye-brow's bow,

Unbent, would veil those glances now;

The shafts that wound this trembling heart

Her eyes no more would dart.

1087.

As veil o'er angry eyes

Of raging elephant that lies,

The silken cincture's folds invest

This maiden's panting breast.

1088.

Ah! woe is me! my might,

That awed my foemen in the fight,

By lustre of that beaming brow

Borne down, lies broken now!

1089.

Like tender fawn's her eye;

Clothed on is she with modesty;

What added beauty can be lent

By alien ornament?

1090.

The palm-tree's fragrant [sap],

To those who taste yields joys divine;

But love hath rare felicity

For those that only see!