Crushed, overwhelmed, beneath it lay.
Canto XLVII. The Death Of Aksha.
But Rávaṇ, as his fury burned,
His eyes on youthful Aksha[877] turned,
Who rose impetuous at his glance
And shouted for his bow and lance.
He rode upon a glorious car
That shot the light of gems afar.
His pennon waved mid glittering gold