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But faster now all fled as if perturbed Escaping from the clearness of her soul. A heaven-bird upon jewelled wings of wind Borne like a coloured and embosomed fire, By spirits carried in a pearl-hued cave, On through the enchanted dimness moved her soul. Death walked in front of her and Satyavan, In the dark front of Death, a failing star. Above was the unseen balance of his fate. End of Canto Three 
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