Scorn not the words we say to thee.”
One awful demon, fiery-eyed,
Stood by the Maithil queen and cried:
'Come and be his, if thou art wise,
Who smote the sovereign of the skies,
And made the thirty Gods and three,[839]
O'ercome in furious battle, flee.
Thy lover turns away with scorn
From wives whom grace and youth adorn.
Thou art his chosen consort, thou