And still another moment when—alas!
For that strange fickleness of human life
Whose joys and griefs each other follow like
The spokes of some fast-going wheel—there came
The wounded Bukka with a violent wail
That Timma had the king's adviser slain,
Whose body lay upon the riverside,
Exposed to all the carrion birds of prey,
And him too wounded, but the arrow pierced
Not deep, but laid him senseless for awhile;