First Evening"Last night"—I am quoting the Moon's own words—"last night
I was gliding through the cloudless Indian sky. My face was
mirrored in the waters of the Ganges, and my beams strove to pierce
through the thick intertwining boughs of the bananas, arching
beneath me like the tortoise's shell. Forth from the thicket
tripped a Hindoo maid, light as a gazelle, beautiful as Eve. Airy
and etherial as a vision, and yet sharply defined amid the
surrounding shadows, stood this daughter of Hindostan: I could read
on her delicate brow the thought that had brought her hither. The
thorny creeping plants tore her sandals, but for all that she came
rapidly forward. The deer that had come down to the river to quench
her thirst, sprang by with a startled bound, for in her hand the
maiden
