And round his ankles, arms, and wrists were wound
Unnumbered glassy strings of crystals bright,
Corals, and shells, and berries red and white.
On her he gazed, and floods of sable fires
Rolled his huge eyes, and spoke his fierce desires,
As on his club, a torn-up lime, he leaned.—
“Help, Heaven!” thought Irza, “‘tis the master-fiend!”
Not long he paused: he now with one quick bound
Sprang from the cliff, and lighted on the ground.
Back fled the maid in terror; but her fear