There where the Curse had stricken him,

There stood the miserable man,

There stood Ladurlad, with loose-hanging arms,

And eyes of idiot wandering.

Was it a dream? alas,

He heard the river flow,

He heard the crumbling of the pile,

He heard the wind which shower’d

The thin white ashes round.

There motionless he stood,

As if he hop’d it were a dream,

And fear’d to move, lest he should prove

The actual misery;

And still at times he met Kehama’s eye,

Kehama’s eye that fasten’d on him still.