9. Woe! woe! for Azla takes her seat Upon the funeral pile! Calmly she took her seat, Calmly the whole terrific pomp survey'd; As on her lap the while The lifeless head of Arvalan was laid. Woe! woe! Nealliny, The young Nealliny! They strip her ornaments away, Bracelet and anklet, ring, and chain, and zone; Around her neck they leave The marriage knot alone, . . . That marriage band, which when Yon waning moon was young, Around her virgin neck With bridal joy was hung. Then with white flowers, the coronal of death, Her jetty locks they crown. O sight of misery! Yon cannot hear her cries, . . . all other sound {9} In that wild dissonance is drown'd; . . . But in her face you see The supplication and the agony, . . . See in her swelling throat the desperate strength That with vain effort struggles yet for life; Her arms contracted now in fruitless strife, Now wildly at full length Towards the crowd in vain for pity spread, . . . They force her on, they bind her to the dead. 10. Then all around retire; Circling the pile, the ministring Bramins stand, Each lifting in his hand a torch on fire. Alone the Father of the dead advanced And lit the funeral pyre. 11. At once on every side The circling torches drop; At once on every side The fragrant oil is pour'd; At once on every side The rapid flames rush up. {10} Then hand in hand the victim band Roll in the dance around the funeral pyre; Their garments' flying folds Float inward to the fire. In drunken whirl they wheel around; One drops, . . . another plunges in; And still with overwhelming din The tambours and the trumpets sound; And clap of hand, and shouts, and cries, From all the multitude arise: While round and round, in giddy wheel, Intoxicate they roll and reel, Till one by one whirl'd in they fall, And the devouring flames have swallowed all. 12. Then all was still; the drums and clarions ceas'd; The multitude were hush'd in silent awe; Only the roaring of the flames was heard. II. THE CURSE. {11} 1. Alone towards the Table of the dead, Kehama mov'd; there on the altar-stone Honey and rice he spread, There with collected voice and painful tone He call'd upon his son. Lo! Arvalan appears. Only Kehama's powerful eye beheld The thin etherial spirit hovering nigh; Only the Rajah's ear Receiv'd his feeble breath. And is this all? the mournful spirit said, This all that thou canst give me after death? {12} This unavailing pomp, These empty pageantries that mock the dead! 2. In bitterness the Rajah heard, And groan'd, and smote his breast, and o'er his face Cowl'd the white mourning vest.