But no: that fiend thou canst not be:
Such joy I had from seeing thee.
But if my fancy does not err,
And thou art Ráma's messenger,
The glories of my lord repeat:
For to these ears such words are sweet.”
The Vánar knew the lady's thought,[856]
And gave the answer fondly sought:
“Bright as the sun that lights the sky
Dear as the Moon to every eye.