Thy mighty power, corrupt, declining Rome,
And with each other now alone contend
In speed, whose sons cast out, abused and starved,
Alone can save from raging whirlwind flames[17]
That all-devouring sweep our western plains;
Then stately elephants came next in line,
With measured step and gently swaying gait,
Covered with cloth of gold richly inwrought,
Each bearing in a howdah gaily decked
A fair competitor for beauty's prize,
With merry comrades and some sober friend;
The vina, bansuli, sitar and harp
Filling the air with sweetest melody,
While rippling laughter from each howdah rang,
And sweetest odors, as from op'ning flowers,
Breathed from their rich apparel as they passed.

And thus they circle round the maidan wide,
And as they pass along the people shout,
"Long live the king! long live our noble prince!"
To all which glad acclaims the prince responds
With heartfelt courtesy and royal grace.

When they had nearly reached the palace gate
On their return, the king drew to the right
With his attendants, while the prince with his
Drew to the left, reviewing all the line
That passed again down to the judges' seat,
Under the king's pavilion near the lake.
The prince eagerly watched them as they passed,