Rāi of the lily face had not yet climbed the bank

Krishna:
Rāi of the lily face had not yet climbed the bank,
When she beheld brave Kān before her:
'A maid demure, with hanging head, in company of elders.
How was I to see her face?'

But matchless was the bright may's art:
Stepping before them all, she called aloud,
With half-averted face,
And broke withal her string of pearls.
Crying aloud: 'My garland's broken!'
Every person, one and all, was gathering up the beads,--
Then she gazed on Shyāma!

Her partridge-eyes beholding Krishna's moon-fair face.
Were drinking draughts of dew:
Each on the other gazing, spread abroad the taste
of bliss,--
That Vidyāpati knoweth well.