And Savitar breathed sympathy from the skies
O'er uttermost regions of the faneless Brahm.
In melancholy search I see her roam
The Himalayas,—world-dividing,—pale
'Mid ice and snow, through mists and night and storm;
Then back again with that wild mother woe
Fueling the anguished fire of her eyes,—
Back where old Atlas groans beneath the world,
And the Cimmerian twilight weighs the soul.
Deep was her sleep in Persia's haunted vales,