A History of Sanskrit Literature c15.7

c15.7

*In creepers I discern thy form, in eyes of startled hinds thy glances,*
*And in the moon thy lovely face, in peacocks' plumes thy shining tresses;*
*The sportive frown upon thy brow in flowing waters' tiny ripples:*
*But never in one place combined can I, alas! behold thy likeness.*