Around is thick with jarring sounds of birds
  That in confusion fly—­so fell the words
  Of Bukka on that scene, where all was joy,
  Where, like a beehive, swarmed the surging crowd,
  To see the marriage of their princess dear;
  And straightway in confusion wild they ran
  Without a purpose, but in various ways. 
  Unto their homes some ran the news t’acquaint,
  Some to the wounded Bukka and his horse,
  But many to the riverside to find
  Their min’ster lying dead by arrow pierced. 
    The sorrow-stricken king spake not a word,
  But like a lifeless figure stood awhile. 
  A sudden fit of frenzy overtook
  The king at last, and Timma’s awful doom
  He thundered forth in accents strong like these: 
  “Be this my decree, forthwith known to all,
  That Timma henceforth shall be banished from
  My land for this dishonour brought on me. 
  He paved his way by murder to my throne,
  And sullied the fair name of my dear house.” 
    When these few awful words the monarch spoke,
  Tears trickled down his eyes, and Timma from
  The bridal seat received his doom, ’stead of
  A blessing from the father of his bride. 
  A gentle touch, a whisper through the veil,
  Then Timma to the royal judgment bowed,
  And slowly moved from out those scenes of joy
  And merriment, and reached the palace gate,
  Where stood his horse by that dead elephant;
  And soon in that confusion that prevailed
  Was seen to slowly move a figure veiled,
  T’approach the gate, and forthwith Timma swung
  That figure on the saddle of his horse,
  Then himself leapt and vanished straight from view. 
    The angry monarch saw their sudden flight,
  And as some aged lion, when sore vexed,
  Like thunder roaring, musters all his strength
  And stands defiant to face the foe, so stood
  The aged warrior, whose old strength returned,
  His breast expanded, and his body raised
  Erect, and for the time his age shook off. 
  Then spake he forth in angry tones like these: 
  “My only child is gone, and he that brings
  My daughter back shall have my highest meed—­
  Nay, even half my kingdom I will give.” 
  None dared save Bukka to essay the feat,
  Who forthwith sprang upon his horse, and soon
  O’ertook the running pair, for Timma’s horse,
  Though deemed the fleetest in the land, now felt
  His double weight, his wonted speed decreased. 
  Then Timma said, “Our foe is nearing fast,
  And he is armed, while weapons I have none. 
  In bridal dress I cannot face the foe,
  And he will sure kill me and take you back
  Unto your angry sire.  Thou art a girl
  Born of the martial Kshatriya race, and hence
  Thou knowest well to ride the wildest horse;
  So let me now dismount for thee t’escape.” 
  “’Tis better far I die with thee,” she said,
  “But I have here the javelin thou