"Line for line, Princess, as thou sangest so,"
Quoth Yama, "all that lovely praise of good,
Grateful to hallowed minds, lofty in sound,
And couched in dulcet numbers--word by word--
Dearer thou grew'st to me. O thou great heart,
Perfect and firm! ask any boon from me,--
Ask an incomparable boon!"

She cried
Swiftly, no longer stayed: "Not Heaven I crave,
Nor heavenly joys, nor bliss incomparable,
Hard to be granted, even by thee; but him,
My sweet lord's life, without which I am dead;
Give me that gift of gifts! I will not take
Aught less without him,--not one boon--no praise,
No splendors, no rewards,--not even those sons
Whom thou didst promise. Ah, thou wilt not now
Bear hence the father of them and my hope!
Make thy free word good; give me Satyavan
Alive once more."

And thereupon the God--
The Lord of Justice, high Vaivaswata--
Loosened the noose and freed the Prince's soul,
And gave it to the lady, saying this,
With eyes grown tender: "See, thou sweetest queen
Of women, brightest jewel of thy kind!
Here is thy husband. He shall live and reign
Side by side with thee, saved by thee,--in peace
And fame and wealth, and health, many long years,