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I was stared at, hooted at, grinned at, chattered at, by monkeys, by parrakeets, by cockatoos. I ran into pagodas, and was fixt for centuries at the summit, or in secret rooms; I was the idol; I was the priest; I was worshiped; I was sacrificed. I fled from the wrath of Brahma, through all the forests of Asia; Vishnu hated me; Seeva laid wait for me.
I was stared at, hooted at, grinned at, chattered at, by monkeys, by parroquets, by cockatoos. I ran into pagodas, and was fixed for centuries at the summit or in secret rooms: I was the idol; I was the priest; I was worshipped; I was sacrificed. I fled from the wrath of Brama through all the forests of Asia: Vishnu hated me: Seeva laid wait for me.
Thou showest thy black brow, Seeva! They'll shake their tassels soon. Now would all the waves were women, then I'd go drown, and chassee with them evermore! There's naught so sweet on earth heaven may not match it! as those swift glances of warm, wild bosoms in the dance, when the over-arboring arms hide such ripe, bursting grapes.
I fled from the wrath of Bramah through all the forests of Asia: Vishnu hated me; Seeva laid wait for me. I came suddenly upon Isis and Osiris: I had done a deed, they said, which the ibis and the crocodile trembled at. I was buried for a thousand years in stone coffins, with mummies and sphinxes, in narrow chambers at the heart of eternal pyramids.
You may see in that country, the misguided enthusiastic worshippers of misshapen idols prostrate their bodied before the enormous wheels of the car of Seeva, and piously suffering themselves to be crushed in pieces by the rolling mass.
In the battle which ensued he was victorious and the siege was raised, after which he returned to Kondavid and took it. On learning of the fall of Kondavid, Krishna Raya detached "his general and son-in-law Seeva Ray" with 100,000 foot and 8000 horse to march against the Muhammadans. The Sultan retreated and encamped on the banks of the Krishna, leaving Kondavid to the Hindus.
The sky-born, high-tide Ganges turned to wind! Thou showest thy black brow, Seeva! It's the waves the snow's caps turn to jig it now. They'll shake their tassels soon. Now would all the waves were women, then I'd go drown, and chassee with them evermore!
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