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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Indian Poetry, by Edwin Arnold
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Indian Poetry
+       Containing "The Indian Song of Songs," from the Sanskrit
+       of the Gîta Govinda of Jayadeva, Two books from "The Iliad
+       Of India" (Mahábhárata), "Proverbial Wisdom" from the
+       Shlokas of the Hitopadesa, and other Oriental Poems.
+
+Author: Edwin Arnold
+
+Release Date: July 4, 2008 [EBook #25965]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INDIAN POETRY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Thierry Alberto, and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                            INDIAN POETRY
+
+                             CONTAINING
+
+            "_THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS," FROM THE SANSKRIT
+                   OF THE GÎTA GOVINDA OF JAYADEVA
+          TWO BOOKS FROM "THE ILIAD OF INDIA" (MAHÁBHÁRATA)
+             "PROVERBIAL WISDOM" FROM THE SHLOKAS OF THE
+                HITOPADEŚA, AND OTHER ORIENTAL POEMS_
+
+
+                                  BY
+
+               SIR EDWIN ARNOLD, M.A., K.C.I.E., C.S.I.
+
+                   _Author of "The Light of Asia"_
+
+                OFFICER OF THE WHITE ELEPHANT OF SIAM
+          THIRD CLASS OF THE IMPERIAL ORDER OF THE MEDJIDIE
+     FELLOW OF THE ROYAL ASIATIC AND ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETIES
+ HONORARY MEMBER OF THE SOCIETÉ DE GEOGRAPHIE, MARSEILLES, ETC. ETC.
+           FORMERLY PRINCIPAL OF THE DECCAN COLLEGE, POONA
+                AND FELLOW OF THE UNIVERSITY OF BOMBAY
+
+
+
+                          EIGHTH IMPRESSION
+
+
+                                LONDON
+
+                KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO. L^TD
+
+                   DRYDEN HOUSE, GERRARD STREET, W.
+
+                                 1904
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+                                                        PAGE
+
+THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS--
+
+Introduction                                             1
+
+Hymn to Vishnu                                           3
+
+Sarga the First--The Sports of Krishna                   9
+
+Sarga the Second--The Penitence of Krishna              22
+
+Sarga the Third--Krishna troubled                       31
+
+Sarga the Fourth--Krishna cheered                       37
+
+Sarga the Fifth--The Longings of Krishna                44
+
+Sarga the Sixth--Krishna made bolder                    54
+
+Sarga the Seventh--Krishna supposed false               59
+
+Sarga the Eighth--The Rebuking of Krishna               75
+
+Sarga the Ninth--The End of Krishna's Trial             79
+
+Sarga the Tenth--Krishna in Paradise                    83
+
+Sarga the Eleventh--The Union of Radha and Krishna      88
+
+
+MISCELLANEOUS ORIENTAL POEMS--
+
+The Rajpoot Wife                                       101
+
+King Saladin                                           113
+
+The Caliph's Draught                                   132
+
+Hindoo Funeral Song                                    137
+
+Song of the Serpent Charmers                           138
+
+Song of the Flour-Mill                                 140
+
+Taza ba Taza                                           142
+
+The Mussulman Paradise                                 146
+
+Dedication of a Poem from the Sanskrit                 150
+
+The Rajah's Ride                                       151
+
+
+TWO BOOKS FROM THE "ILIAD OF INDIA"                    159
+
+The Great Journey                                      172
+
+The Entry into Heaven                                  192
+
+THE NIGHT OF SLAUGHTER                                 210
+
+THE MORNING PRAYER                                     216
+
+
+PROVERBIAL WISDOM FROM THE SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA   221
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
+
+_INTRODUCTION._
+
+OM!
+
+REVERENCE TO GANESHA!
+
+
+    "The sky is clouded; and the wood resembles
+      The sky, thick-arched with black Tamâla boughs;
+    O Radha, Radha! take this Soul, that trembles
+      In life's deep midnight, to Thy golden house."
+    So Nanda spoke,--and, led by Radha's spirit,
+      The feet of Krishna found the road aright;
+    Wherefore, in bliss which all high hearts inherit,
+      Together taste they Love's divine delight.
+
+           _He who wrote these things for thee,
+            Of the Son of Wassoodee,
+            Was the poet Jayadeva;
+            Him Saraswati gave ever
+            Fancies fair his mind to throng,
+            Like pictures palace-walls along;
+            Ever to his notes of love
+            Lakshmi's mystic dancers move.
+            If thy spirit seeks to brood
+            On Hari glorious, Hari good;
+            If it feeds on solemn numbers.
+            Dim as dreams and soft as slumbers,
+            Lend thine ear to Jayadev,
+            Lord of all the spells that save.
+            Umapatidhara's strain
+            Glows like roses after rain;
+            Sharan's stream-like song is grand,
+            If its tide ye understand;
+            Bard more wise beneath the sun
+            Is not found than Govardhun;
+            Dhoyi holds the listener still
+            With his shlokes of subtle skill;
+            But for sweet words suited well
+            Jayadeva doth excel._
+
+
+
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ MÂLAVA _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
+
+HYMN TO VISHNU
+
+
+    O thou that held'st the blessed Veda dry
+      When all things else beneath the floods were hurled;
+    Strong Fish-God! Ark of Men! _Jai!_ Hari, _jai!_
+      Hail, Keshav, hail! thou Master of the world!
+
+    The round world rested on thy spacious nape;
+      Upon thy neck, like a mere mole, it stood:
+    O thou that took'st for us the Tortoise-shape,
+      Hail, Keshav, hail! Ruler of wave and wood!
+
+    The world upon thy curving tusk sate sure,
+      Like the Moon's dark disc in her crescent pale;
+    O thou who didst for us assume the Boar,
+      Immortal Conqueror! hail, Keshav, hail!
+
+    When thou thy Giant-Foe didst seize and rend,
+      Fierce, fearful, long, and sharp were fang and nail;
+    Thou who the Lion and the Man didst blend,
+      Lord of the Universe! hail, Narsingh, hail!
+
+    Wonderful Dwarf!--who with a threefold stride
+      Cheated King Bali--where thy footsteps fall
+    Men's sins, O Wamuna! are set aside:
+      O Keshav, hail! thou Help and Hope of all!
+
+    The sins of this sad earth thou didst assoil,
+      The anguish of its creatures thou didst heal;
+    Freed are we from all terrors by thy toil:
+      Hail, Purshuram, hail! Lord of the biting steel!
+
+    To thee the fell Ten-Headed yielded life,
+      Thou in dread battle laid'st the monster low!
+    Ah, Rama! dear to Gods and men that strife;
+      We praise thee, Master of the matchless bow!
+
+    With clouds for garments glorious thou dost fare,
+      Veiling thy dazzling majesty and might,
+    As when Yamuna saw thee with the share,
+      A peasant--yet the King of Day and Night.
+
+    Merciful-hearted! when thou earnest as Boodh--
+      Albeit 'twas written in the Scriptures so--
+    Thou bad'st our altars be no more imbrued
+      With blood of victims: Keshav! bending low--
+
+    We praise thee, Wielder of the sweeping sword,
+      Brilliant as curving comets in the gloom,
+    Whose edge shall smite the fierce barbarian horde;
+      Hail to thee, Keshav! hail, and hear, and come,
+
+    And fill this song of Jayadev with thee,
+      And make it wise to teach, strong to redeem,
+    And sweet to living souls. Thou Mystery!
+      Thou Light of Life! Thou Dawn beyond the dream!
+
+            Fish! that didst outswim the flood;
+            Tortoise! whereon earth hath stood;
+            Boar! who with thy tush held'st high
+            The world, that mortals might not die;
+            Lion! who hast giants torn;
+            Dwarf! who laugh'dst a king to scorn;
+            Sole Subduer of the Dreaded!
+            Slayer of the many-headed!
+            Mighty Ploughman! Teacher tender!
+            Of thine own the sure Defender!
+            Under all thy ten disguises
+            Endless praise to thee arises.
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARÎ _and the Mode_ NIHSÂRA.)
+
+     Endless praise arises,
+     O thou God that liest
+     Rapt, on Kumla's breast,
+     Happiest, holiest, highest!
+     Planets are thy jewels,
+     Stars thy forehead-gems,
+     Set like sapphires gleaming
+     In kingliest anadems;
+     Even the great gold Sun-God,
+     Blazing through the sky,
+     Serves thee but for crest-stone,
+    _Jai, jai!_ Hari, _jai!_
+     As that Lord of day
+     After night brings morrow,
+     Thou dost charm away
+     Life's long dream of sorrow.
+     As on Mansa's water
+     Brood the swans at rest,
+     So thy laws sit stately
+     On a holy breast.
+     O, Drinker of the poison!
+     Ah, high Delight of earth!
+     What light is to the lotus-buds,
+     What singing is to mirth,
+     Art thou--art thou that slayedst
+     Madhou and Narak grim;
+     That ridest on the King of Birds,
+     Making all glories dim.
+     With eyes like open lotus-flowers,
+     Bright in the morning rain,
+     Freeing by one swift piteous glance
+     The spirit from Life's pain:
+     Of all the three Worlds Treasure!
+     Of sin the Putter-by!
+     O'er the Ten-Headed Victor!
+    _Jai_ Hari! Hari! _jai!_
+     Thou Shaker of the Mountain!
+     Thou Shadow of the Storm!
+     Thou Cloud that unto Lakshmi's face
+     Comes welcome, white, and warm!
+     O thou,--who to great Lakshmi
+     Art like the silvery beam
+     Which moon-sick chakors feed upon
+     By Jumna's silent stream,--
+     To thee this hymn ascendeth,
+     That Jayadev doth sing,
+     Of worship, love, and mystery
+     High Lord and Heavenly King!
+     And unto whoso hears it
+     Do thou a blessing bring--
+     Whose neck is gilt with yellow dust
+     From lilies that did cling
+     Beneath the breasts of Lakshmi,
+     A girdle soft and sweet,
+     When in divine embracing
+     The lips of Gods did meet;
+     And the beating heart above
+     Of thee--Dread Lord of Heaven!--
+     She left that stamp of love--
+     By such deep sign be given
+     Prays Jayadev, the glory
+     And the secret and the spells
+     Which close-hid in this story
+     Unto wise ears he tells.
+
+
+END OF INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE FIRST._
+
+SAMODADAMODARO.
+
+THE SPORTS OF KRISHNA.
+
+
+          Beautiful Radha, jasmine-bosomed Radha,
+          All in the Spring-time waited by the wood
+          For Krishna fair, Krishna the all-forgetful,--
+          Krishna with earthly love's false fire consuming--
+          And some one of her maidens sang this song:--
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ VASANTA _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    I know where Krishna tarries in these early days of Spring,
+    When every wind from warm Malay brings fragrance on its wing;
+    Brings fragrance stolen far away from thickets of the clove,
+    In jungles where the bees hum and the Koil flutes her love;
+    He dances with the dancers of a merry morrice one,
+    All in the budding Spring-time, for 'tis sad to be alone.
+
+    I know how Krishna passes these hours of blue and gold
+    When parted lovers sigh to meet and greet and closely hold
+    Hand fast in hand; and every branch upon the Vakul-tree
+    Droops downward with a hundred blooms, in every bloom a bee;
+    He is dancing with the dancers to a laughter-moving tone,
+    In the soft awakening Spring-time, when 'tis hard to live alone.
+
+    Where Kroona-flowers, that open at a lover's lightest tread,
+    Break, and, for shame at what they hear, from white blush modest red;
+    And all the spears on all the boughs of all the Ketuk-glades
+    Seem ready darts to pierce the hearts of wandering youths and maids;
+    Tis there thy Krishna dances till the merry drum is done,
+    All in the sunny Spring-time, when who can live alone?
+
+    Where the breaking forth of blossom on the yellow Keshra-sprays
+    Dazzles like Kama's sceptre, whom all the world obeys;
+    And Pâtal-buds fill drowsy bees from pink delicious bowls,
+    As Kama's nectared goblet steeps in languor human souls;
+    There he dances with the dancers, and of Radha thinketh none,
+    All in the warm new Spring-tide, when none will live alone.
+
+    Where the breath of waving Mâdhvi pours incense through the grove,
+    And silken Mogras lull the sense with essences of love,--
+    The silken-soft pale Mogra, whose perfume fine and faint
+    Can melt the coldness of a maid, the sternness of a saint--
+    There dances with those dancers thine other self, thine Own,
+    All in the languorous Spring-time, when none will live alone.
+
+    Where--as if warm lips touched sealed eyes and waked them--all the
+        bloom
+    Opens upon the mangoes to feel the sunshine come;
+    And Atimuktas wind their arms of softest green about,
+    Clasping the stems, while calm and clear great Jumna spreadeth out;
+    There dances and there laughs thy Love, with damsels many an one,
+    In the rosy days of Spring-time, for he will not live alone.
+
+           _Mark this song of Jayadev!
+            Deep as pearl in ocean-wave
+            Lurketh in its lines a wonder
+            Which the wise alone will ponder:
+            Though it seemeth of the earth.
+            Heavenly is the music's birth;
+            Telling darkly of delights
+            In the wood, of wasted nights,
+            Of witless days, and fruitless love,
+            And false pleasures of the grove,
+            And rash passions of the prime,
+            And those dances of Spring-time;
+            Time, which seems so subtle-sweet,
+            Time, which pipes to dancing-feet,
+            Ah! so softly--ah! so sweetly--
+            That among those wood-maids featly
+            Krishna cannot choose but dance,
+            Letting pass life's greater chance._
+
+      Yet the winds that sigh so
+        As they stir the rose,
+      Wake a sigh from Krishna
+        Wistfuller than those;
+      All their faint breaths swinging
+        The creepers to and fro
+      Pass like rustling arrows
+        Shot from Kama's bow:
+      Thus among the dancers
+        What those zephyrs bring
+      Strikes to Krishna's spirit
+        Like a darted sting.
+
+      And all as if--far wandered--
+        The traveller should hear
+      The bird of home, the Koil,
+        With nest-notes rich and clear;
+      And there should come one moment
+        A blessed fleeting dream
+      Of the bees among the mangoes
+        Beside his native stream;
+      So flash those sudden yearnings,
+        That sense of a dearer thing,
+      The love and lack of Radha
+        Upon his soul in Spring.
+
+    Then she, the maid of Radha, spake again;
+    And pointing far away between the leaves
+    Guided her lovely Mistress where to look,
+    And note how Krishna wantoned in the wood
+    Now with this one, now that; his heart, her prize,
+    Panting with foolish passions, and his eyes
+    Beaming with too much love for those fair girls--
+    Fair, but not so as Radha; and she sang:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ RÂMAGIRÎ _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    See, Lady! how thy Krishna passes these idle hours
+    Decked forth in fold of woven gold, and crowned with forest-flowers;
+    And scented with the sandal, and gay with gems of price--
+    Rubies to mate his laughing lips, and diamonds like his, eyes;--
+    In the company of damsels,[1] who dance and sing and play,
+    Lies Krishna, laughing, toying, dreaming his Spring away.
+
+[Footnote 1: It will be observed that the "Gopis" here personify the
+five senses. Lassen says, "_Manifestum est puellis istis nil aliud
+significar quam res sensiles_."]
+
+    One, with star-blossomed champâk wreathed, wooes him to rest his head
+    On the dark pillow of her breast so tenderly outspread;
+    And o'er his brow with, roses blown she fans a fragrance rare,
+    That falls on the enchanted sense like rain in thirsty air,
+    While the company of damsels wave many an odorous spray,
+    And Krishna, laughing, toying, sighs the soft Spring away.
+
+    Another, gazing in his face, sits wistfully apart,
+    Searching it with those looks of love that leap from heart to heart;
+    Her eyes--afire with shy desire, veiled by their lashes black--
+    Speak so that Krishna cannot choose but send the message back,
+    In the company of damsels whose bright eyes in a ring
+    Shine round him with soft meanings in the merry light of Spring.
+
+    The third one of that dazzling band of dwellers in the wood--
+    Body and bosom panting with the pulse of youthful blood--
+    Leans over him, as in his ear a lightsome thing to speak,
+    And then with leaf-soft lip imprints a kiss below his cheek;
+    A kiss that thrills, and Krishna turns at the silken touch
+    To give it back--ah, Radha! forgetting thee too much.
+
+    And one with arch smile beckons him away from Jumna's banks,
+    Where the tall bamboos bristle like spears in battle-ranks,
+    And plucks his cloth to make him come into the mango-shade,
+    Where the fruit is ripe and golden, and the milk and cakes are laid:
+    Oh! golden-red the mangoes, and glad the feasts of Spring,
+    And fair the flowers to lie upon, and sweet the dancers sing.
+
+    Sweetest of all that Temptress who dances for him now
+    With subtle feet which part and meet in the Râs-measure slow,
+    To the chime of silver bangles and the beat of rose-leaf hands,
+    And pipe and lute and cymbal played by the woodland bands;
+    So that wholly passion-laden--eye, ear, sense, soul o'ercome--
+    Krishna is theirs in the forest; his heart forgets its home.
+
+           _Krishna, made for heavenly things,
+            'Mid those woodland singers sings;
+            With those dancers dances featly,
+            Gives back soft embraces sweetly;
+            Smiles on that one, toys with this,
+            Glance for glance and kiss for kiss;
+            Meets the merry damsels fairly,
+            Plays the round of folly rarely,
+            Lapped in milk-warm spring-time weather,
+            He and those brown girls together._
+
+            _And this shadowed earthly love
+            In the twilight of the grove,
+            Dance and song and soft caresses,
+            Meeting looks and tangled tresses,
+            Jayadev the same hath writ,
+            That ye might have gain of it,
+            Sagely its deep sense conceiving
+            And its inner light believing;
+            How that Love--the mighty Master,
+            Lord of all the stars that cluster
+            In the sky, swiftest and slowest,
+            Lord of highest, Lord of lowest--
+            Manifests himself to mortals,
+            Winning them towards the portals
+            Of his secret House, the gates
+            Of that bright Paradise which waits
+            The wise in love. Ah, human creatures!
+            Even your phantasies are teachers.
+            Mighty Love makes sweet in seeming
+            Even Krishna's woodland dreaming;
+            Mighty Love sways all alike
+            From self to selflessness. Oh! strike
+            From your eyes the veil, and see
+            What Love willeth Him to be
+            Who in error, but in grace,
+            Sitteth with that lotus-face,
+            And those eyes whose rays of heaven
+            Unto phantom-eyes are given;_
+           _Holding feasts of foolish mirth
+            With these Visions of the earth;
+            Learning love, and love imparting;
+            Yet with sense of loss upstarting:--_
+
+            _For the cloud that veils the fountains
+            Underneath the Sandal mountains,
+            How--as if the sunshine drew
+            All its being to the blue--
+            It takes flight, and seeks to rise
+            High into the purer skies,
+            High into the snow and frost,
+            On the shining summits lost!
+            Ah! and how the Koil's strain
+            Smites the traveller with pain,--
+            When the mango blooms in spring,
+            And "Koohoo," "Koohoo," they sing--
+            Pain of pleasures not yet won,
+            Pain of journeys not yet done,
+            Pain of toiling without gaining,
+            Pain, 'mid gladness, of still paining._
+
+    But may He guide us all to glory high
+    Who laughed when Radha glided, hidden, by,
+    And all among those damsels free and bold
+    Touched Krishna with a soft mouth, kind and cold;
+    And like the others, leaning on his breast,
+    Unlike the others, left there Love's unrest;
+    And like the others, joining in his song,
+    Unlike the others, made him silent long.
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gîta Govinda entitled_
+SAMODADAMODARO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE SECOND._
+
+KLESHAKESHAVO.
+
+THE PENITENCE OF KRISHNA.
+
+
+    Thus lingered Krishna in the deep, green wood,
+    And gave himself, too prodigal, to those;
+    But Radha, heart-sick at his falling-off,
+    Seeing her heavenly beauty slighted so,
+    Withdrew; and, in a bower of Paradise--
+    Where nectarous blossoms wove a shrine of shade,
+    Haunted by birds and bees of unknown skies--
+    She sate deep-sorrowful, and sang this strain,
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARÎ _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    Ah, my Beloved! taken with those glances,
+    Ah, my Beloved! dancing those rash dances,
+      Ah, Minstrel! playing wrongful strains so well;
+    Ah, Krishna! Krishna with the honeyed lip!
+    Ah, Wanderer into foolish fellowship!
+      My Dancer, my Delight!--I love thee still.
+
+    O Dancer! strip thy peacock-crown away,
+    Rise! thou whose forehead is the star of day,
+      With beauty for its silver halo set;
+    Come! thou whose greatness gleams beneath its shroud
+    Like Indra's rainbow shining through the cloud--
+      Come, for I love thee, my Beloved! yet.
+
+    Must love thee--cannot choose but love thee ever,
+    My best Beloved--set on this endeavor,
+      To win thy tender heart and earnest eye
+    From lips but sadly sweet, from restless bosoms,
+    To mine, O Krishna with the mouth of blossoms!
+      To mine, thou soul of Krishna! yet I sigh
+
+    Half hopeless, thinking of myself forsaken,
+    And thee, dear Loiterer, in the wood o'ertaken
+      With passion for those bold and wanton ones,
+    Who knit thine arms as poison-plants gripe trees
+    With twining cords--their flowers the braveries
+      That flash in the green gloom, sparkling stars and stones.
+
+    My Prince! my Lotus-faced! my woe! my love!
+    Whose broad brow, with the tilka-spot above,
+      Shames the bright moon at full with fleck of cloud;
+    Thou to mistake so little for so much!
+    Thou, Krishna, to be palm to palm with such!
+      O Soul made for my joys, pure, perfect, proud!
+
+    Ah, my Beloved! in thy darkness dear;
+    Ah, Dancer! with the jewels in thine ear,
+      Swinging to music of a loveless love;
+    O my Beloved! in thy fall so high
+    That angels, sages, spirits of the sky
+      Linger about thee, watching in the grove.
+
+    I will be patient still, and draw thee ever,
+    My one Beloved, sitting by the river
+      Under the thick kadambas with that throng:
+    Will there not come an end to earthly madness?
+    Shall I not, past the sorrow, have the gladness?
+      Must not the love-light shine for him ere long?
+
+           _Shine, thou Light by Radha given,
+            Shine, thou splendid star of heaven!
+            Be a lamp to Krishna's feet,
+            Show to all hearts secrets sweet,
+            Of the wonder and the love
+            Jayadev hath writ above.
+            Be the quick Interpreter
+            Unto wisest ears of her
+            Who always sings to all, "I wait,
+            He loveth still who loveth late."_
+
+    For (sang on that high Lady in the shade)
+    My soul for tenderness, not blame, was made;
+      Mine eyes look through his evil to his good;
+    My heart coins pleas for him; my fervent thought
+    Prevents what he will say when these are naught,
+      And that which I am shall be understood.
+
+    Then spake she to her maiden wistfully--
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ MÂLAVAGAUDA _and the Mode_ EKATÂLÎ.)
+
+    Go to him,--win him hither,--whisper low
+      How he may find me if he searches well;
+    Say, if he will--joys past his hope to know
+      Await him here; go now to him, and tell
+    Where Radha is, and that henceforth she charms
+                     His spirit to her arms.
+
+    Yes, go! say, if he will, that he may come--
+      May come, my love, my longing, my desire;
+    May come forgiven, shriven, to me his home,
+      And make his happy peace; nay, and aspire
+    To uplift Radha's veil, and learn at length
+                     What love is in its strength.
+
+    Lead him; say softly I shall chide his blindness,
+      And vex him with my angers; yet add this,
+    He shall not vainly sue for loving-kindness,
+      Nor miss to see me close, nor lose the bliss
+    That lives upon my lip, nor be denied
+                     The rose-throne at my side.
+
+    Say that I--Radha--in my bower languish
+      All widowed, till he find the way to me;
+    Say that mine eyes are dim, my breast all anguish,
+      Until with gentle murmured shame I see
+    His steps come near, his anxious pleading face
+                     Bend for my pardoning grace.
+
+    While I--what, did he deem light loves so tender,
+      To tarry for them when the vow was made
+    To yield him up my bosom's maiden splendour,
+      And fold him in my fragrance, and unbraid
+    My shining hair for him, and clasp him close
+                     To the gold heart of his Rose?
+
+    And sing him strains which only spirits know,
+      And make him captive with the silk-soft chain
+    Of twinned-wings brooding round him, and bestow
+      Kisses of Paradise, as pure as rain;
+    My gems, my moonlight-pearls, my girdle-gold,
+                     Cymbaling music bold?
+
+    While gained for ever, I shall dare to grow
+      Life to life with him, in the realms divine;
+    And--Love's large cup at happy overflow,
+      Yet ever to be filled--his eyes and mine
+    Will meet in that glad look, when Time's great gate
+                     Closes and shuts out Fate.
+
+           _Listen to the unsaid things
+            Of the song that Radha sings,
+            For the soul draws near to bliss,
+            As it comprehendeth this.
+            I am Jayadev, who write
+            All this subtle-rich delight
+            For your teaching. Ponder, then,
+            What it tells to Gods and men.
+            Err not, watching Krishna gay,
+            With those brown girls all at play;
+            Understand how Radha charms
+            Her wandering lover to her arms,
+            Waiting with divinest love
+            Till his dream ends in the grove._
+
+    For even now (she sang) I see him pause,
+      Heart-stricken with the waste of heart he makes
+    Amid them;--all the bows of their bent brows
+      Wound him no more: no more for all their sakes
+    Plays he one note upon his amorous lute,
+                     But lets the strings lie mute.
+
+    Pensive, as if his parted lips should say--
+
+      "My feet with the dances are weary,
+        The music has dropped from the song,
+      There is no more delight in the lute-strings,
+        Sweet Shadows! what thing has gone wrong?
+      The wings of the wind have left fanning
+        The palms of the glade;
+      They are dead, and the blossoms seem dying
+        In the place where we played.
+
+      "We will play no more, beautiful Shadows!
+        A fancy came solemn and sad,
+      More sweet, with unspeakable longings,
+        Than the best of the pleasures we had:
+      I am not now the Krishna who kissed you;
+        That exquisite dream,--
+      The Vision I saw in my dancing--
+        Has spoiled what you seem.
+
+    "Ah! delicate phantoms that cheated
+      With eyes that looked lasting and true,
+    I awake,--I have seen her,--my angel--
+      Farewell to the wood and to you!
+    Oh, whisper of wonderful pity!
+      Oh, fair face that shone!
+    Though thou be a vision, Divinest!
+     This vision is done."
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gîta Govinda entitled_
+KLESHAKESHAVO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE THIRD._
+
+MUGDHAMADHUSUDANO.
+
+KRISHNA TROUBLED.
+
+
+    Thereat,--as one who welcomes to her throne
+    A new-made Queen, and brings before it bound
+    Her enemies,--so Krishna in his heart
+    Throned Radha; and--all treasonous follies chained--
+    He played no more with those first play-fellows:
+    But, searching through the shadows of the grove
+    For loveliest Radha,--when he found her not,
+    Faint with the quest, despairing, lonely, lorn,
+    And pierced with shame for wasted love and days,
+    He sate by Jumna, where the canes are thick,
+    And sang to the wood-echoes words like these:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARÎ _and to the Mode_ YATI)
+
+    Radha, Enchantress! Radha, queen of all!
+      Gone--lost, because she found me sinning here;
+    And I so stricken with my foolish fall,
+      I could not stay her out of shame and fear;
+                                She will not hear;
+      In her disdain and grief vainly I call.
+
+    And if she heard, what would she do? what say?
+      How could I make it good that I forgot?
+    What profit was it to me, night and day,
+      To live, love, dance, and dream, having her not?
+                                Soul without spot!
+    I wronged thy patience, till it sighed away.
+
+    Sadly I know the truth. Ah! even now
+      Remembering that one look beside the river,
+    Softer the vexed eyes seem, and the proud brow
+      Than lotus-leaves when the bees make them quiver.
+                                My love for ever!
+    Too late is Krishna wise--too far art thou!
+
+    Yet all day long in my deep heart I woo thee,
+      And all night long with thee my dreams are sweet;
+    Why, then, so vainly must my steps pursue thee?
+      Why can I never reach thee, to entreat,
+                                Low at thy feet,
+    Dear vanished Splendour! till my tears subdue thee?
+
+    Surpassing One! I knew thou didst not brook
+      Half-hearted worship, and a love that wavers;
+    Haho! there is the wisdom I mistook,
+      Therefore I seek with desperate endeavours;
+                                That fault dissevers
+    Me from my heaven, astray--condemned--forsook!
+
+    And yet I seem to feel, to know, thee near me;
+      Thy steps make music, measured music, near:
+    Radha! my Radha! will not sorrow clear me?
+      Shine once! speak one word pitiful and dear!
+                                Wilt thou not hear?
+    Canst thou--because I did forget--forsake me?
+
+    Forgive! the sin is sinned, is past, is over;
+      No thought I think shall do thee wrong again;
+    Turn thy dark eyes again upon thy lover
+      Bright Spirit! or I perish of this pain.
+                                Loving again!
+    In dread of doom to love, but not recover.
+
+           _So did Krishna sing and sigh
+            By the river-bank; and I,
+            Jayadev of Kinduvilva,
+            Resting--as the moon of silver
+            Sits upon the solemn ocean--
+            On full faith, in deep devotion;
+            Tell it that ye may perceive
+            How the heart must fret and grieve;
+            How the soul doth tire of earth,
+            When the love from Heav'n hath birth._
+
+    For (sang he on) I am no foe of thine,
+      There is no black snake, Kama! in my hair;
+    Blue lotus-bloom, and not the poisoned brine,
+      Shadows my neck; what stains my bosom bare,
+                                Thou God unfair!
+    Is sandal-dust, not ashes; nought of mine.
+
+    Makes me like Shiva that thou, Lord of Love!
+      Shouldst strain thy string at me and fit thy dart;
+    This world is thine--let be one breast thereof
+      Which bleeds already, wounded to the heart
+                                With lasting smart,
+    Shot from those brows that did my sin reprove.
+
+    Thou gavest her those black brows for a bow
+      Arched like thine own, whose pointed arrows seem
+    Her glances, and the underlids that go--
+      So firm and fine--its string? Ah, fleeting gleam!
+                                Beautiful dream!
+    Small need of Kama's help hast thou, I trow,
+
+    To smite me to the soul with love;--but set
+      Those arrows to their silken cord! enchain
+    My thoughts in that loose hair! let thy lips, wet
+      With dew of heaven as bimba-buds with rain,
+                                Bloom precious pain
+    Of longing in my heart; and, keener yet,
+
+    The heaving of thy lovely, angry bosom,
+      Pant to my spirit things unseen, unsaid;
+    But if thy touch, thy tones, if the dark blossom
+      Of thy dear face, thy jasmine-odours shed
+                                From feet to head,
+    If these be all with me, canst thou be far--be fled?
+
+    _So sang he, and I pray that whoso hears
+    The music of his burning hopes and fears,
+    That whoso sees this vision by the River
+    Of Krishna, Hari, (can we name him ever?)
+    And marks his ear-ring rubies swinging slow,
+    As he sits still, unheedful, bending low
+    To play this tune upon his lute, while all
+    Listen to catch the sadness musical;
+    And Krishna wotteth nought, but, with set face
+    Turned full toward Radha's, sings on in that place;
+    May all such souls--prays Jayadev--be wise
+    To lean the wisdom which hereunder lies._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gîta Govinda entitled_
+MUGDHAMADHUSUDANO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE FOURTH._
+
+SNIGDHAMADHUSUDANO.
+
+KRISHNA CHEERED.
+
+
+    Then she whom Radha sent came to the canes--
+    The canes beside the river where he lay
+    With listless limbs and spirit weak from love;--
+    And she sang this to Krishna wistfully:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ KARNÂTA _and the Mode_ EKATÂLÎ.)
+
+    Art thou sick for Radha? she is sad in turn,
+      Heaven foregoes its blessings, if it holds not thee,
+    All the cooling fragrance of sandal she doth spurn,
+      Moonlight makes her mournful with radiance silvery;
+    Even the southern breeze blown fresh from pearly seas,
+      Seems to her but tainted by a dolorous brine;
+    And for thy sake discontented, with a great love overladen,
+      Her soul comes here beside thee, and sitteth down with thine.
+
+    Her soul comes here beside thee, and tenderly and true
+      It weaves a subtle mail of proof to ward off sin and pain;
+    A breastplate soft as lotus-leaf, with holy tears for dew,
+      To guard thee from the things that hurt; and then 'tis gone again
+    To strew a blissful place with the richest buds that grace
+      Kama's sweet world, a meeting-spot with rose and jasmine fair,
+    For the hour when, well-contented, with a love no longer troubled,
+      Thou shalt find the way to Radha, and finish sorrows there.
+
+    But now her lovely face is shadowed by her fears;
+      Her glorious eyes are veiled and dim like moonlight in eclipse
+    By breaking rain-clouds, Krishna! yet she paints you in her tears
+      With tender thoughts--not Krishna, but brow and breast and lips
+    And form and mien a King, a great and godlike thing;
+      And then with bended head she asks grace from the Love Divine,
+    To keep thee discontented with the phantoms thou forswearest,
+      Till she may win her glory, and thou be raised to thine.
+
+            Softly now she sayeth,
+              "Krishna, Krishna, come!"
+            Lovingly she prayeth,
+              "Fair moon, light him home."
+            Yet if Hari helps not,
+              Moonlight cannot aid;
+            Ah! the woeful Radha!
+              Ah! the forest shade!
+
+            Ah! if Hari guide not,
+              Moonlight is as gloom;
+            Ah! if moonlight help not,
+              How shall Krishna come?
+            Sad for Krishna grieving
+              In the darkened grove;
+            Sad for Radha weaving
+              Dreams of fruitless love!
+
+       _Strike soft strings to this soft measure,
+        If thine ear would catch its treasure;
+        Slowly dance to this deep song,
+        Let its meaning float along
+        With grave paces, since it tells
+        Of a love that sweetly dwells
+        In a tender distant glory,
+        Past all faults of mortal story._
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ DESHÂGA _and the Mode_ EKATÂLÎ.)
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, faint she lies with love and fear;
+    Even the jewels of her necklet seem a load too great to bear.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, all the sandal and the flowers
+    Vex her with their pure perfection though they grow in heavenly bowers.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, fair albeit those bowers may be,
+    Passion burns her, and love's fire fevers her for lack of thee.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, those divine lids, dark and tender,
+    Droop like lotus-leaves in rain-storms, dashed and heavy in their
+        splendour.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, that rose-couch which she hath spread
+    Saddens with its empty place, its double pillow for one head.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, from her palms she will not lift
+    The dark face hidden deep within them like the moon in cloudy rift.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, angel though she be, thy Love
+    Sighs and suffers, waits and watches--joyless 'mid those joys above.
+
+    Krishna, till them come unto her, with the comfort of thy kiss
+    Deeper than thy loss, O Krishna! must be loss of Radha's bliss.
+
+    Krishna, while thou didst forget her--her, thy life, thy gentle fate--
+    Wonderful her waiting was, her pity sweet, her patience great.
+
+    Krishna, come! 'tis grief untold to grieve her--shame to let her sigh;
+    Come, for she is sick with love, and thou her only remedy.
+
+           _So she sang, and Jayadeva
+            Prays for all, and prays for ever.
+            That Great Hari may bestow
+            Utmost bliss of loving so
+            On us all;--that one who wore
+            The herdsman's form, and heretofore,
+            To save the shepherd's threatened flock,
+            Up from the earth reared the huge rock--
+            Bestow it with a gracious hand,
+            Albeit, amid the woodland band,
+            Clinging close in fond caresses
+            Krishna gave them ardent kisses,
+            Taking on his lips divine
+            Earthly stamp and woodland sign._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gîta Govinda entitled_
+SNIGDHAMADHUSUDANO).
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE FIFTH._
+
+SAKANDKSHAPUNDARIKAKSHO.
+
+THE LONGINGS OF KRISHNA.
+
+
+    "Say I am here! oh, if she pardons me,
+    Say where I am, and win her softly hither."
+    So Krishna to the maid; and willingly
+    She came again to Radha, and she sang:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ DESHIVARÂDÎ _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
+
+    Low whispers the wind from Malaya
+      Overladen with love;
+    On the hills all the grass is burned yellow;
+      And the trees in the grove
+    Droop with tendrils that mock by their clinging
+      The thoughts of the parted;
+    And there lies, sore-sighing for thee,
+      Thy love, altered-hearted.
+
+    To him the moon's icy-chill silver
+      Is a sun at midday;
+    The fever he burns with is deeper
+      Than starlight can stay:
+    Like one who falls stricken by arrows,
+      With the colour departed
+    From all but his red wounds, so lies
+      Thy love, bleeding-hearted.
+
+    To the music the banded bees make him
+      He closeth his ear;
+    In the blossoms their small horns are blowing
+      The honey-song clear;
+    But as if every sting to his bosom
+      Its smart had imparted,
+    Low lies by the edge of the river,
+      Thy love, aching-hearted.
+
+    By the edge of the river, far wandered
+      From his once beloved bowers,
+    And the haunts of his beautiful playmates,
+      And the beds strewn with flowers;
+    Now thy name is his playmate--that only!--
+      And the hard rocks upstarted
+    From the sand make the couch where he lies,
+      Thy Krishna, sad-hearted.
+
+           _Oh may Hari fill each soul,
+            As these gentle verses roll
+            Telling of the anguish borne
+            By kindred ones asunder torn!
+            Oh may Hari unto each
+            All the lore of loving teach,
+            All the pain and all the bliss;
+            Jayadeva prayeth this!_
+
+    Yea, Lady! in the self-same spot he waits
+    Where with thy kiss thou taught'st him utmost love,
+    And drew him, as none else draws, with thy look;
+    And all day long, and all night long, his cry
+    Is "Radha, Radha," like a spell said o'er:
+
+    And in his heart there lives no wish nor hope
+    Save only this, to slake his spirit's thirst
+    For Radha's love with Radha's lips; and find
+    Peace on the immortal beauty of thy breast.
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARÎ _and the Mode_ EKATÂLÎ.)
+
+    Mistress, sweet and bright and holy!
+      Meet him in that place;
+    Change his cheerless melancholy
+      Into joy and grace;
+    If thou hast forgiven, vex not;
+      If thou lovest, go,
+    Watching ever by the river,
+      Krishna listens low:
+
+    Listens low, and on his reed there
+      Softly sounds thy name,
+    Making even mute things plead there
+      For his hope: 'tis shame
+    That, while winds are welcome to him,
+      If from thee they blow,
+    Mournful ever by the river
+      Krishna waits thee so!
+
+    When a bird's wing stirs the roses,
+      When a leaf falls dead,
+    Twenty times he recomposes
+      The flower-seat he has spread:
+    Twenty times, with anxious glances
+      Seeking thee in vain,
+    Sighing ever by the river,
+      Krishna droops again.
+
+    Loosen from thy foot the bangle,
+      Lest its golden bell,
+    With a tiny, tattling jangle,
+      Any false tale tell:
+    If thou fearest that the moonlight
+      Will thy glad face know,
+    Draw those dark braids lower, Lady!
+      But to Krishna go.
+
+    Swift and still as lightning's splendour
+      Let thy beauty come,
+    Sudden, gracious, dazzling, tender,
+      To his arms--its home.
+    Swift as Indra's yellow lightning,
+      Shining through the night,
+    Glide to Krishna's lonely bosom,
+      Take him love and light.
+
+    Grant, at last, love's utmost measure,
+      Giving, give the whole;
+    Keep back nothing of the treasure
+      Of thy priceless soul:
+    Hold with both hands out unto him
+      Thy chalice, let him drain
+    The nectar of its dearest draught,
+      Till not a wish remain.
+
+    Only go--the stars are setting,
+      And thy Krishna grieves;
+    Doubt and anger quite forgetting,
+      Hasten through the leaves:
+    Wherefore didst thou lead him heav'nward
+      But for this thing's sake?
+    Comfort him with pity, Radha!
+      Or his heart must break.
+
+            _But while Jayadeva writes
+            This rare tale of deep delights--
+            Jayadev, whose heart is given
+            Unto Hari, Lord in Heaven--
+            See that ye too, as ye read,
+            With a glad and humble heed,
+            Bend your brows before His face,
+            That ye may have bliss and grace._
+
+    And then the Maid, compassionate, sang on--
+
+                Lady, most sweet!
+                For thy coming feet
+    He listens in the wood, with love sore-tried;
+                Faintly sighing,
+                Like one a-dying,
+    He sends his thoughts afoot to meet his bride.
+
+                Ah, silent one!
+                Sunk is the sun,
+    The darkness falls as deep as Krishna's sorrow;
+                The chakor's strain
+                Is not more vain
+    Than mine, and soon gray dawn will bring white morrow.
+
+                And thine own bliss
+                Delays by this;
+    The utmost of thy heaven comes only so
+                When, with hearts beating
+                And passionate greeting,
+    Parting is over, and the parted grow.
+
+                One--one for ever!
+                And the old endeavour
+    To be so blended is assuaged at last;
+                And the glad tears raining
+                Have nought remaining
+    Of doubt or 'plaining; and the dread has passed.
+
+                Out of each face,
+                In the close embrace,
+    That by-and-by embracing will be over;
+                The ache that causes
+                Those mournful pauses
+    In bowers of earth between lover and lover:
+
+                To be no more felt,
+                To fade, to melt
+    In the strong certainty of joys immortal;
+                In the glad meeting,
+                And quick sweet greeting
+    Of lips that close beyond Time's shadowy portal.
+
+                And to thee is given,
+                Angel of Heaven!
+    This glory and this joy with Krishna. Go!
+                Let him attain,
+                For his long pain,
+    The prize it promised,--see thee coming slow,
+
+                A vision first, but then--
+                By glade and glen--
+    A lovely, loving soul, true to its home;
+                His Queen--his Crown--his All,
+                Hast'ning at last to fall
+    Upon his breast, and live there. Radha, come!
+
+            _Come! and come thou, Lord of all,
+            Unto whom the Three Worlds call;
+            Thou, that didst in angry might,
+            Kansa, like a comet, smite;
+            Thou, that in thy passion tender,
+            As incarnate spell and splendour,
+            Hung on Radha's glorious face--
+            In the garb of Krishna's grace--
+            As above the bloom the bee,
+            When the honeyed revelry
+            Is too subtle-sweet an one
+            Not to hang and dally on;
+            Thou that art the Three Worlds' glory,
+            Of life the light, of every story
+            The meaning and the mark, of love
+            The root and, flower, o' the sky above
+            The blue, of bliss the heart, of those,
+            The lovers, that which did impose
+            The gentle law, that each should be
+            The other's Heav'n and harmony._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gîta Govinda entitled_
+SAKANDKSILAPUNDARIKAKSHO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE SIXTH._
+
+DHRISHTAVAIKUNTO.
+
+KRISHNA MADE BOLDER.
+
+
+    But seeing that, for all her loving will,
+    The flower-soft feet of Radha had not power
+    To leave their place and go, she sped again--
+    That maiden--and to Krishna's eager ears
+    Told how it fared with his sweet mistress there.
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GONDAKIRÎ _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
+
+    Krishna! 'tis thou must come, (she sang)
+      Ever she waits thee in heavenly bower;
+    The lotus seeks not the wandering bee,
+      The bee must find the flower.
+
+    All the wood over her deep eyes roam,
+      Marvelling sore where tarries the bee,
+    Who leaves such lips of nectar unsought
+      As those that blossom for thee.
+
+    Her steps would fail if she tried to come,
+      Would falter and fail, with yearning weak;
+    At the first of the road they would falter and pause,
+      And the way is strange to seek.
+
+    Find her where she is sitting, then,
+      With lotus-blossom on ankle and arm
+    Wearing thine emblems, and musing of nought
+      But the meeting to be--glad, warm.
+
+    To be--"but wherefore tarrieth he?"
+      "What can stay or delay him?--go!
+    See if the soul of Krishna comes,"
+      Ten times she sayeth to me so;
+
+    Ten times lost in a languorous swoon,
+      "Now he cometh--he cometh," she cries;
+    And a love-look lightens her eyes in the gloom,
+      And the darkness is sweet with her sighs.
+
+    Till, watching in vain, she glideth again
+      Under the shade of the whispering leaves;
+    With a heart too full of its love at last
+      To heed how her bosom heaves.
+
+          _Shall not these fair verses swell
+          The number of the wise who dwell
+          In the realm of Kama's bliss?
+          Jayadeva prayeth this,
+          Jayadev, the bard of Love,
+          Servant of the Gods above._
+
+    For all so strong in Heaven itself
+      Is Love, that Radha sits drooping there,
+    Her beautiful bosoms panting with thought,
+      And the braids drawn back from her ear.
+
+    And--angel albeit--her rich lips breathe
+      Sighs, if sighs were ever so sweet;
+    And--if spirits can tremble--she trembles now
+      From forehead to jewelled feet.
+
+    And her voice of music sinks to a sob,
+      And her eyes, like eyes of a mated roe,
+    Are tender with looks of yielded love,
+      With dreams dreamed long ago;
+
+    Long--long ago, but soon to grow truth,
+      To end, and be waking and certain and true;
+    Of which dear surety murmur her lips,
+      As the lips of sleepers do:
+
+    And, dreaming, she loosens her girdle-pearls,
+      And opens her arms to the empty air,
+    Then starts, if a leaf of the champâk falls,
+      Sighing, "O leaf! Is he there?"
+
+    Why dost thou linger in this dull spot,
+      Haunted by serpents and evil for thee?
+    Why not hasten to Nanda's House?
+      It is plain, if thine eyes could see.
+
+        _May these words of high endeavour--
+        Full of grace and gentle favour--
+        Find out those whose hearts can feel
+        What the message did reveal,
+        Words that Radha's messenger
+        Unto Krishna took from her,
+        Slowly guiding him to come
+        Through the forest to his home,
+        Guiding him to find the road
+        Which led--though long--to Love's abode._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gîta Govinda entitled_
+DHRISHTAVAIKUNTO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE SEVENTH._
+
+VIPRALABDHAVARNANE NAGARANARAYANO.
+
+KRISHNA SUPPOSED FALSE.
+
+
+    Meantime the moon, the rolling moon, clomb high,
+    And over all Vrindávana it shone;
+    The moon which on the front of gentle night
+    Gleams like the chundun-mark on beauty's brow;
+    The conscious moon which hath its silver face
+    Marred with the shame of lighting earthly loves:
+
+      And while the round white lamp of earth rose higher,
+    And still he tarried, Radha, petulant,
+    Sang soft impatience and half-earnest fears:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ MÂLAVA _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    'Tis time!--he comes not!--will he come?
+      Can he leave me thus to pine?
+    _Yami hê kam sharanam!_
+      Ah! what refuge then is mine?
+
+    For his sake I sought the wood,
+      Threaded dark and devious ways;
+    _Yami hê kam sharanam!_
+      Can it be Krishna betrays?
+
+    Let me die then, and forget
+      Anguish, patience, hope, and fear;
+    _Yami hê kam sharanam!_
+      Ah, why have I held him dear?
+
+    Ah, this soft night torments me,
+      Thinking that his faithless arms--
+    _Yami hê kam sharanam!_--
+      Clasp some shadow of my charms.
+
+    Fatal shadow--foolish mock!
+      When the great love shone confessed;--
+    _Yami hê kam sharanam!_
+      Krishna's lotus loads my breast;
+
+    'Tis too heavy, lacking him;
+      Like a broken flower I am--
+    Necklets, jewels, what are ye?
+      _Yami hê kam sharanam!_
+
+    _Yami hê kam sharanam!_
+      The sky is still, the forest sleeps;
+    Krishna forgets--he loves no more;
+      He fails in faith, and Radha weeps.
+
+        _But the poet Jayadev--
+        He who is great Hari's slave,
+        He who finds asylum sweet
+        Only at great Hari's feet;
+        He who for your comfort sings
+        All this to the Vina's strings--
+        Prays that Radha's tender moan
+        In your hearts be thought upon,
+        And that all her holy grace
+        Live there like the loved one's face._
+
+    Yet, if I wrong him! (sang she)--can he fail?
+      Could any in the wood win back his kisses?
+    Could any softest lips of earth prevail
+      To hold him from my arms? any love-blisses
+
+    Blind him once more to mine? O Soul, my prize!
+      Art thou not merely hindered at this hour?
+    Sore-wearied, wandering, lost? how otherwise
+      Shouldst thou not hasten to the bridal-bower?
+
+    But seeing far away that Maiden come
+    Alone, with eyes cast down and lingering steps,
+    Again a little while she feared to hear
+    Of Krishna false; and her quick thoughts took shape
+    In a fine jealousy, with words like these--
+
+      Something then of earth has held him
+        From his home above,
+      Some one of those slight deceivers--
+        Ah, my foolish love!
+
+    Some new face, some winsome playmate,
+      With her hair untied,
+    And the blossoms tangled in it,
+      Woos him to her side.
+
+    On the dark orbs of her bosom--
+      Passionately heaved--
+    Sink and rise the warm, white pearl-strings,
+      Oh, my love deceived!
+
+    Fair? yes, yes! the rippled shadow
+      Of that midnight hair
+    Shows above her brow--as clouds do
+      O'er the moon--most fair:
+
+    And she knows, with wilful paces,
+      How to make her zone
+    Gleam and please him; and her ear-rings
+      Tinkle love; and grown
+
+    Coy as he grows fond, she meets him
+      With a modest show;
+    Shaming truth with truthful seeming,
+      While her laugh--light, low--
+
+    And her subtle mouth that murmurs.
+      And her silken cheek,
+    And her eyes, say she dissembles
+      Plain as speech could speak.
+
+    Till at length, a fatal victress,
+      Of her triumph vain,
+    On his neck she lies and smiles there:--
+      Ah, my Joy!--my Pain!
+
+          _But may Radha's fond annoy,
+          And may Krishna's dawning joy,
+          Warm and waken love more fit--
+          Jayadeva prayeth it--
+          And the griefs and sins assuage
+          Of this blind and evil age._
+
+    O Moon! (she sang) that art so pure and pale,
+      Is Krishna wan like thee with lonely waiting?
+    O lamp of love! art thou the lover's friend,
+      And wilt not bring him, my long pain abating?
+    O fruitless moon! thou dost increase my pain
+    O faithless Krishna! I have striven in vain.
+    And then, lost in her fancies sad, she moaned--
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARÎ _and the Mode_ EKATÂLÎ)
+
+            In vain, in vain!
+    Earth will of earth! I mourn more than I blame;
+      If he had known, he would not sit and paint
+    The tilka on her smooth black brow, nor claim
+      Quick kisses from her yielded lips--false, faint--
+    False, fragrant, fatal! Krishna's quest is o'er
+            By Jumna's shore!
+
+            Vain--it was vain!
+    The temptress was too near, the heav'n too far;
+      I can but weep because he sits and ties
+    Garlands of fire-flowers for her loosened hair,
+      And in its silken shadow veils his eyes
+    And buries his fond face. Yet I forgave
+            By Jumna's wave!
+
+            Vainly! all vain!
+    Make then the most of that whereto thou'rt given,
+      Feign her thy Paradise--thy Love of loves;
+    Say that her eyes are stars, her face the heaven,
+      Her bosoms the two worlds, with sandal-groves
+    Full-scented, and the kiss-marks--ah, thy dream
+            By Jumna's stream!
+
+            It shall be vain!
+    And vain to string the emeralds on her arm,
+      And hang the milky pearls upon her neck,
+    Saying they are not jewels, but a swarm
+      Of crowded, glossy bees, come there to suck
+    The rosebuds of her breast, the sweetest flowers
+            Of Jumna's bowers.
+
+            That shall be vain!
+    Nor wilt thou so believe thine own blind wooing,
+      Nor slake thy heart's thirst even with the cup
+    Which at the last she brims for thee, undoing
+      Her girdle of carved gold, and yielding up,
+    Love's uttermost: brief the poor gain and pride
+            By Jumna's tide
+
+            Because still vain
+    Is love that feeds on shadow; vain, as thou dost,
+      To look so deep into the phantom eyes
+    For that which lives not there; and vain, as thou must,
+      To marvel why the painted pleasure flies,
+    When the fair, false wings seemed folded for ever
+            By Jumna's river.
+
+            And vain! yes, vain!
+    For me too is it, having so much striven,
+      To see this slight snare take thee, and thy soul
+    Which should have climbed to mine, and shared my heaven,
+      Spent on a lower loveliness, whose whole
+    Passion of claim were but a parody
+            Of that kept here for thee.
+
+            Ahaha! vain!
+    For on some isle of Jumna's silver stream
+      He gives all that they ask to those hard eyes,
+    While mine which are his angel's, mine which gleam
+      With light that might have led him to the skies--
+    That almost led him--are eclipsed with tears
+            Wailing my fruitless prayers.
+
+            But thou, good Friend,
+    Hang not thy head for shame, nor come so slowly,
+      As one whose message is too ill to tell;
+    If thou must say Krishna is forfeit wholly--
+      Wholly forsworn and lost--let the grief dwell
+    Where the sin doth,--except in this sad heart,
+            Which cannot shun its part.
+
+          _O great Hari! purge from wrong
+          The soul of him who writes this song;
+          Purge the souls of those that read
+          From every fault of thought and deed;
+          With thy blessed light assuage
+          The darkness of this evil age!
+          Jayadev the bard of love,
+          Servant of the Gods above,
+          Prays it for himself and you--
+          Gentle hearts who listen!--too._
+
+    Then in this other strain she wailed his loss--
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ DESHAVARÂDÎ _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
+
+    She, not Radha, wins the crown
+      Whose false lips seemed dearest;
+    What was distant gain to him
+      When sweet loss stood nearest?
+    Love her, therefore, lulled to loss
+      On her fatal bosom;
+    Love her with such love as she
+      Can give back in the blossom.
+
+    Love her, O thou rash lost soul!
+      With thy thousand graces;
+    Coin rare thoughts into fair words
+      For her face of faces;
+    Praise it, fling away for it
+      Life's purpose in a sigh,
+    All for those lips like flower-leaves,
+      And lotus-dark deep eye.
+
+    Nay, and thou shalt be happy too
+      Till the fond dream is over;
+    And she shall taste delight to hear
+      The wooing of her lover;
+    The breeze that brings the sandal up
+      From distant green Malay,
+    Shall seem all fragrance in the night,
+      All coolness in the day.
+
+    The crescent moon shall seem to swim
+      Only that she may see
+    The glad eyes of my Krishna gleam,
+      And her soft glances he:
+    It shall be as a silver lamp
+      Set in the sky to show
+    The rose-leaf palms that cling and clasp,
+      And the breast that beats below.
+
+    The thought of parting shall not lie
+      Cold on their throbbing lives,
+    The dread of ending shall not chill
+      The glow beginning gives;
+    She in her beauty dark shall look--
+      As long as clouds can be--
+    As gracious as the rain-time cloud
+      Kissing the shining sea.
+
+    And he, amid his playmates old,
+      At least a little while,
+    Shall not breathe forth again the sigh
+      That spoils the song and smile;
+    Shall be left wholly to his choice,
+      Free for his pleasant sin,
+    With the golden-girdled damsels
+      Of the bowers I found him in.
+
+    For me, his Angel, only
+      The sorrow and the smart,
+    The pale grief sitting on the brow,
+      The dead hope in the heart;
+    For me the loss of losing,
+      For me the ache and dearth;
+    My king crowned with the wood-flowers!
+      My fairest upon earth!
+
+         _Hari, Lord and King of love!
+          From thy throne of light above
+          Stoop to help us, deign to take
+          Our spirits to thee for the sake
+          Of this song, which speaks the fears
+          Of all who weep with Radha's tears._
+
+    But love is strong to pardon, slow to part,
+    And still the Lady, in her fancies, sang--
+            Wind of the Indian stream!
+    A little--oh! a little--breathe once more
+    The fragrance like his mouth's! blow from thy shore
+      One last word as he fades into a dream;
+
+            Bodiless Lord of love!
+    Show him once more to me a minute's space,
+    My Krishna, with the love-look in his face,
+      And then I come to my own place above;
+
+            I will depart and give
+    All back to Fate and her: I will submit
+    To thy stern will, and bow myself to it,
+      Enduring still, though desolate, to live:
+
+            If it indeed be life,
+    Even so resigning, to sit patience-mad,
+    To feel the zephyrs burn, the sunlight sad,
+      The peace of holy heaven, a restless strife.
+
+            Haho! what words are these?
+    How can I live and lose him? how not go
+    Whither love draws me for a soul loved so?
+      How yet endure such sorrow?--or how cease?
+
+            Wind of the Indian wave!
+    If that thou canst, blow poison here, not nard;
+    God of the five shafts! shoot thy sharpest hard,
+      And kill me, Radha,--Radha who forgave!
+
+            Or, bitter River,
+    Yamûn! be Yama's sister! be Death's kin!
+    Swell thy wave up to me and gulf me in,
+      Cooling this cruel, burning pain for ever.
+
+           _Ah! if only visions stir
+            Grief so passionate in her,
+            What divine grief will not take,
+            Spirits in heaven for the sake
+            Of those who miss love? Oh, be wise!
+            Mark this story of the skies;
+            Meditate Govinda ever,
+            Sitting by the sacred river,
+            The mystic stream, which o'er his feet
+            Glides slow, with murmurs low and sweet,
+            Till none can tell whether those be
+            Blue lotus-blooms, seen veiledly
+            Under the wave, or mirrored gems
+            Reflected from the diadems
+            Bound on the brows of mighty Gods,
+            Who lean from out their pure abodes,
+            And leave their bright felicities
+            To guide great Krishna to his sides._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gîta Govinda entitled_
+VIPRALABDHAVARNANE NAGARANARAYANO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE EIGHTH._
+
+KHANDITAVARNANE VILAKSHALAKSHMIPATI.
+
+THE REBUKING OF KRISHNA.
+
+
+    For when the weary night had worn away
+    In these vain fears, and the clear morning broke,
+    Lo, Krishna! lo, the longed-for of her soul
+    Came too!--in the glad light he came, and bent
+    His knee, and clasped his hands; on his dumb lips
+    Fear, wonder, joy, passion, and reverence
+    Strove for the trembling words, and Radha knew
+    Peace won for him and her; yet none the less
+    A little time she eluded him, and sang:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ BHAIRAVÎ _and the Mode_ YATI)
+
+    Krishna!--then thou hast found me!--and thine eyes
+      Heavy and sad and stained, as if with weeping!
+    Ah! is it not that those, which were thy prize,
+      So radiant seemed that all night thou wert keeping
+    Vigils of tender wooing?--have thy Love!
+      Here is no place for vows broken in making;
+    Thou Lotus-eyed! thou soul for whom I strove!
+      Go! ere I listen, my just mind forsaking.
+
+    Krishna! my Krishna with the woodland-wreath!
+      Return, or I shall soften as I blame;
+    The while thy very lips are dark to the teeth
+      With dye that from her lids and lashes came,
+    Left on the mouth I touched. Fair traitor! go!
+      Say not they darkened, lacking food and sleep
+    Long waiting for my face; I turn it--so--
+      Go! ere I half believe thee, pleading deep;
+
+    But wilt thou plead, when, like a love-verse printed
+      On the smooth polish of an emerald,
+    I see the marks she stamped, the kisses dinted
+      Large-lettered, by her lips? thy speech withheld
+    Speaks all too plainly; go,--abide thy choice!
+      If thou dost stay, I shall more greatly grieve thee;
+    Not records of her victory?--peace, dear voice!
+      Hence with that godlike brow, lest I believe thee.
+
+    For dar'st thou feign the saffron on thy bosom
+      Was not implanted in disloyal embrace?
+    Or that this many-coloured love-tree blossom
+      Shone not, but yesternight, above her face?
+    Comest thou here, so late, to be forgiven,
+      O thou, in whose eyes Truth was made to live?
+    O thou, so worthy else of grace and heaven?
+      O thou, so nearly won? Ere I forgive,
+
+    Go, Krishna! go!--lest I should think, unwise,
+      Thy heart not false, as thy long lingering seems,
+    Lest, seeing myself so imaged in thine eyes,
+      I shame the name of Pity--turn to dreams
+    The sacred sound of vows; make Virtue grudge
+      Her praise to Mercy, calling thy sin slight;
+    Go therefore, dear offender! go! thy Judge
+      Had best not see thee to give sentence right.
+
+        _But may he grant us peace at last and bliss
+         Who heard,--and smiled to hear,--delays like this,
+         Delays that dallied with a dream come true,
+         Fond wilful angers; for the maid laughed too
+         To see, as Radha ended, her hand take
+         His dark role for her veil, and[2] Krishna make
+         The word she spoke for parting kindliest sign
+         He should not go, but stay. O grace divine,
+         Be ours too! Jayadev, the Poet of love,
+         Prays it from Hari, lordliest above._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gîta Govinda entitled_
+KHANDITAVARNANE VILAKSHALAKSHMIPATI.)
+
+[Footnote 2: The text here is not closely followed.]
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE NINTH._
+
+KALAHANTARITAVARNANE MUGDHAMUKUNDO.
+
+THE END OF KRISHNA'S TRIAL.
+
+
+    Yet not quite did the doubts of Radha die,
+    Nor her sweet brows unbend; but she, the Maid--
+    Knowing her heart so tender, her soft arms
+    Aching to take him in, her rich mouth sad
+    For the comfort of his kiss, and these fears false--
+    Spake yet a little in fair words like these:
+
+_(What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARÎ _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    The lesson that thy faithful love has taught him
+                  He has heard;
+    The wind of spring, obeying thee, hath brought him
+                  At thy word;
+    What joy in all the three worlds was so precious
+                  To thy mind?
+    _Mâ kooroo mânini mânamayè_,[3]
+                  Ah, be kind!
+
+[Footnote 3: My proud one! do not indulge in scorn.]
+
+    No longer from his earnest eyes conceal
+                  Thy delights;
+    Lift thy face, and let the jealous veil reveal
+                  All his rights;
+    The glory of thy beauty was but given
+                  For content;
+    _Mâ kooroo mânini mânamayè_,
+                  Oh, relent!
+
+    Remember, being distant, how he bore thee
+                  In his heart;
+    Look on him sadly turning from before thee
+                  To depart;
+    Is he not the soul thou lovedst, sitting lonely
+                  In the wood?
+    _Mâ kooroo mânini mânamayè_,
+                  'Tis not good!
+
+    He who grants thee high delight in bridal-bower
+                  Pardons long;
+    What the gods do love may do at such an hour
+                  Without wrong;
+    Why weepest thou? why keepest thou in anger
+                  Thy lashes down?
+    _Mâ kooroo mânini mânamayè_,
+                  Do not frown!
+
+    Lift thine eyes now, and look on him, bestowing,
+                  Without speech;
+    Let him pluck at last the flower so sweetly growing
+                  In his reach;
+    The fruit of lips, of loving tones, of glances
+                  That forgive;
+    _Mâ kooroo mânini mânamayè_,
+                  Let him live!
+
+    Let him speak with thee, and pray to thee, and prove thee
+                  All his truth;
+    Let his silent loving lamentation move thee
+                  Asking ruth;
+    How knowest thou? All, listen, dearest Lady,
+                  He is there;
+    _Mâ kooroo mânini mânamayè_,
+                  Thou must hear!
+
+           _O rare voice, which is a spell
+            Unto all on earth who dwell!
+            O rich voice, of rapturous love,
+            Making melody above!
+            Krishna's, Hari's--one in two,
+            Sound these mortal verses through!
+            Sound like that soft flute which made
+            Such a magic in the shade--
+            Calling deer-eyed maidens nigh,
+            Waking wish and stirring sigh,
+            Thrilling blood and melting breasts,
+            Whispering love's divine unrests,
+            Winning blessings to descend,
+            Bringing earthly ills to end;--
+            Me thou heard in this song now
+            Thou, the great Enchantment, thou!_
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gîta Govinda entitled_
+KALAHANTARITAVARNANE MUGDHAMUKUNDO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE TENTH._
+
+MANINIVARNANE CHATURACHATURBHUJO.
+
+KRISHNA IN PARADISE.
+
+
+    But she, abasing still her glorious eyes,
+    And still not yielding all her face to him,
+    Relented; till with softer upturned look
+    She smiled, while the Maid pleaded; so thereat
+    Came Krishna nearer, and his eager lips
+    Mixed sighs with words in this fond song he sang:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ DESHÎYAVARÂDÎ _and the Mode_
+ASHTATÂLÎ.)
+
+    O angel of my hope! O my heart's home!
+      My fear is lost in love, my love in fear;
+    This bids me trust my burning wish, and come,
+      That checks me with its memories, drawing near:
+    Lift up thy look, and let the thing it saith
+    End fear with grace, or darken love to death.
+
+    Or only speak once more, for though thou slay me,
+      Thy heavenly mouth must move, and I shall hear
+    Dulcet delights of perfect music sway me
+      Again--again that voice so blest and dear;
+    Sweet Judge! the prisoner prayeth for his doom
+    That he may hear his fate divinely come.
+
+    Speak once more! then thou canst not choose but show
+      Thy mouth's unparalleled and honeyed wonder
+    Where, like pearls hid in red-lipped shells, the row
+      Of pearly teeth thy rose-red lips lie under;
+    Ah me! I am that bird that woos the moon,
+    And pipes--poor fool! to make it glitter soon.
+
+    Yet hear me on--because I cannot stay
+      The passion of my soul, because my gladness
+    Will pour forth from my heart;--since that far day
+      When through the mist of all my sin and sadness
+    Thou didst vouchsafe--Surpassing One!--to break,
+    All else I slighted for thy noblest sake.
+
+    Thou, thou hast been my blood, my breath, my being;
+      The pearl to plunge for in the sea of life;
+    The sight to strain for, past the bounds of seeing;
+      The victory to win through longest strife;
+    My Queen! my crowned Mistress! my sphered bride!
+    Take this for truth, that what I say beside.
+
+    Of bold love--grown full-orbed at sight of thee--
+      May be forgiven with a quick remission;
+    For, thou divine fulfilment of all hope!
+      Thou all-undreamed completion of the vision!
+    I gaze upon thy beauty, and my fear
+    Passes as clouds do, when the moon shines clear.
+
+    So if thou'rt angry still, this shall avail,
+      Look straight at me, and let thy bright glance wound me;
+    Fetter me! gyve me! lock me in the gaol
+      Of thy delicious arms; make fast around me
+    The silk-soft manacles of wrists and hands,
+    Then kill me! I shall never break those bands.
+
+    The starlight jewels flashing on thy breast
+      Have not my right to hear thy beating heart;
+    The happy jasmine-buds that clasp thy waist
+      Are soft usurpers of my place and part;
+    If that fair girdle only there must shine,
+    Give me the girdle's life--the girdle mine!
+
+    Thy brow like smooth Bandhûka-leaves; thy cheek
+      Which the dark-tinted Madhuk's velvet shows;
+    Thy long-lashed Lotus eyes, lustrous and meek;
+      Thy nose a Tila-bud; thy teeth like rows
+    Of Kunda-petals! he who pierceth hearts
+    Points with thy lovelinesses all five darts.
+
+    But Radiant, Perfect, Sweet, Supreme, forgive!
+      My heart is wise--my tongue is foolish still:
+    I know where I am come--I know I live--
+      I know that thou art Radha--that this will
+    Last and be heaven: that I have leave to rise
+    Up from thy feet, and look into thine eyes!
+
+    And, nearer coming, I ask for grace
+      Now that the blest eyes turn to mine;
+    Faithful I stand in this sacred place
+      Since first I saw them shine:
+    Dearest glory that stills my voice,
+      Beauty unseen, unknown, unthought!
+    Splendour of love, in whose sweet light
+      Darkness is past and nought;
+    Ah, beyond words that sound on earth,
+      Golden bloom of the garden of heaven!
+    Radha, enchantress! Radha, the queen!
+      Be this trespass forgiven--
+    In that I dare, with courage too much
+      And a heart afraid,--so bold it is grown--
+    To hold thy hand with a bridegroom's touch,
+      And take thee for mine, mine own.[4]
+
+           _So they met and so they ended
+            Pain and parting, being blended
+            Life with life--made one for ever
+            In high love; and Jayadeva
+            Hasteneth on to close the story
+            Of their bridal grace and glory._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gîta Govinda entitled_
+MANINIVARNANE CHATURACHATURBHUJO.)
+
+[Footnote 4: Much here also is necessarily paraphrased.]
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE ELEVENTH._
+
+RADHIKAMILANE SANANDADAMODARO.
+
+THE UNION OF RADHA AND KRISHNA.
+
+
+    Thus followed soft and lasting peace, and griefs
+    Died while she listened to his tender tongue,
+    Her eyes of antelope alight with love;
+    And while he led the way to the bride-bower
+    The maidens of her train adorned her fair
+    With golden marriage-cloths, and sang this song:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ VASANTA _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    Follow, happy Radha! follow,--
+      In the quiet falling twilight--
+    The steps of him who followed thee
+      So steadfastly and far;
+    Let us bring thee where the banjulas
+      Have spread a roof of crimson,
+    Lit up by many a marriage-lamp
+      Of planet, sun, and star:
+    For the hours of doubt are over,
+      And thy glad and faithful lover
+    Hath found the road by tears and prayers
+      To thy divinest side;
+    And thou wilt not now deny him
+      One delight of all thy beauty,
+    But yield up open-hearted
+      His pearl, his prize, his bride.
+
+    Oh, follow! while we fill the air
+      With songs and softest music;
+    Lauding thy wedded loveliness,
+      Dear Mistress past compare!
+    For there is not any splendour
+      Of Apsarasas immortal--
+    No glory of their beauty rich--
+      But Radha has a share;
+    Oh, follow! while we sing the song
+      That fills the worlds with longing,
+    The music of the Lord of love
+      Who melts all hearts with bliss;
+    For now is born the gladness
+      That springs from mortal sadness,
+    And all soft thoughts and things and hopes
+      Were presages of this.
+
+    Then, follow, happiest Lady!
+      Follow him thou lovest wholly;
+    The hour is come to follow now
+      The soul thy spells have led;
+    His are thy breasts like jasper-cups,
+      And his thine eyes like planets;
+    Thy fragrant hair, thy stately neck,
+      Thy queenly sumptuous head;
+    Thy soft small feet, thy perfect lips,
+      Thy teeth like jasmine petals,
+    Thy gleaming rounded shoulders,
+      And long caressing arms,
+    Being thine to give, are his; and his
+     The twin strings of thy girdle,
+    And his the priceless treasure
+      Of thine utter-sweetest charms.
+
+    So follow! while the flowers break forth
+      In white and amber clusters,
+    At the breath of thy pure presence,
+      And the radiance on thy brow;
+    Oh, follow where the Asokas wave
+      Their sprays of gold and purple,
+    As if to beckon thee the way
+      That Krishna passed but now;
+    He is gone a little forward!
+      Though thy steps are faint for pleasure,
+    Let him hear the tattling ripple
+      Of the bangles round thy feet;
+    Moving slowly o'er the blossoms
+      On the path which he has shown thee,
+    That when he turns to listen
+      It may make his fond heart beat.
+
+    And loose thy jewelled girdle
+      A little, that its rubies
+    May tinkle softest music too,
+      And whisper thou art near;
+    Though now, if in the forest
+      Thou should'st bend one blade of Kusha
+    With silken touch of passing foot,
+      His heart would know and hear;
+    Would hear the wood-buds saying,
+      "It is Radha's foot that passes;"
+    Would hear the wind sigh love-sick,
+      "It is Radha's fragrance, this;"
+    Would hear thine own heart beating
+      Within thy panting bosom,
+    And know thee coming, coming,
+      His--ever,--ever--his!
+
+    "_Mine_! "--hark! we are near enough for hearing--
+      "_Soon she will come--she will smile--she will say
+    Honey-sweet words of heavenly endearing;
+      O soul! listen; my Bride is on her way!_"
+
+    Hear'st him not, my Radha?
+      Lo, night bendeth o'er thee--
+    Darker than dark Tamâla-leaves--
+      To list thy marriage-song;
+    Dark as the touchstone that tries gold,
+      And see now--on before thee--
+    Those lines of tender light that creep
+      The clouded sky along:
+    O night! that trieth gold of love,
+      This love is proven perfect!
+    O lines that streak the touchstone sky,
+      Plash forth true shining gold!
+    O rose-leaf feet, go boldly!
+      O night!--that lovest lovers--
+    Thy softest robe of silence
+      About these bridals fold!
+
+    See'st thou not, my Radha?
+      Lo, the night, thy bridesmaid,
+    Comes!--her eyes thick-painted
+      With soorma of the gloom--
+    The night that binds the planet-worlds
+      For jewels on her forehead,
+    And for emblem and for garland
+      Loves the blue-black lotus-bloom;
+    The night that scents her breath so sweet
+      With cool and musky odours,
+    That joys to spread her veil of shade
+      Over the limbs of love;
+
+        And when, with loving weary,
+          Yet dreaming love, they slumber,
+        Sets the far stars for silver lamps
+          To light them from above.
+
+    So came she where he stood, awaiting her
+    At the bower's entry, like a god to see,
+    With marriage-gladness and the grace of heaven.
+    The great pearl set upon his glorious head
+    Shone like a moon among the leaves, and shone
+    Like stars the gems that kept her gold gown close:
+    But still a little while she paused--abashed
+    At her delight, of her deep joy afraid--
+    And they that tended her sang once more this:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ VARÂDI _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
+
+    Enter, thrice-happy! enter, thrice-desired!
+    And let the gates of Hari shut thee in
+    With the soul destined to thee from of old.
+
+    Tremble not! lay thy lovely shame aside;
+    Lay it aside with thine unfastened zone,
+    And love him with the love that knows not fear,
+
+    Because it fears not change; enter thou in,
+    Flower of all sweet and stainless womanhood!
+    For ever to grow bright, for ever new;
+
+    Enter beneath the flowers, O flower-fair!
+    Beneath these tendrils, Loveliest! that entwine
+    And clasp, and wreathe and cling, with kissing stems;
+
+    Enter, with tender-blowing airs of heaven,
+    Soft as love's breath and gentle as the tones
+    Of lover's whispers, when the lips come close:
+
+    Enter the house of Love, O loveliest!
+    Enter the marriage-bower, most beautiful!
+    And take and give the joy that Hari grants,
+
+    Thy heart has entered, let thy feet go too!
+    Lo, Krishna! lo, the one that thirsts for thee!
+    Give him the drink of amrit from thy lips.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Then she, no more delaying, entered straight;
+    Her step a little faltered, but her face
+    Shone with unutterable quick love; and--while,
+
+    The music of her bangles passed the porch--
+    Shame, which had lingered in her downcast eyes,
+    Departed shamed[5] ... and like the mighty deep,
+    Which sees the moon and rises, all his life
+    Uprose to drink her beams.
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gîta Govinda entitled_
+RADHIKAMILANE SANANDADAMODARO.)
+
+[Footnote 5: This complete anticipation (_salajjâ lajjâpi_) of the
+line--
+
+    "Upon whose brow shame is ashamed to sit"
+
+--occurs at the close of the Sarga, part of which is here perforce
+omitted, along with the whole of the last one.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Hari keep you! He whose might,
+      On the King of Serpents seated,
+    Flashes forth in dazzling light
+      From the Great Snake's gems repeated:
+    Hari keep you! He whose graces,
+      Manifold in majesty,--
+    Multiplied in heavenly places--
+      Multiply on earth--to see
+    Better with a hundred eyes
+      Her bright charms who by him lies.
+
+     _What skill may be in singing,
+        What worship sound in song,
+      What lore be taught in loving,
+        What right divined from wrong:
+      Such things hath Jayadeva--
+        In this his Hymn of Love,
+      Which lauds Govinda ever,--
+        Displayed; may all approve!_
+
+
+THE END OF THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS
+
+
+
+
+_MISCELLANEOUS ORIENTAL POEMS._
+
+
+
+
+_THE RAJPOOT WIFE._
+
+
+    Sing something, Jymul Rao! for the goats are gathered now,
+      And no more water is to bring;
+    The village-gates are set, and the night is gray as yet,
+      God hath given wondrous fancies to thee:--sing!
+
+    Then Jymul's supple fingers, with a touch that doubts and lingers,
+      Sets athrill the saddest wire of all the six;
+    And the girls sit in a tangle, and hush the tinkling bangle,
+      While the boys pile the flame with store of sticks.
+
+    And vain of village praise, but full of ancient days,
+      He begins with a smile and with a sigh--
+    "Who knows the babul-tree by the bend of the Ravee?"
+      Quoth Gunesh, "I!" and twenty voices, "I!"
+
+    "Well--listen! there below, in the shade of bloom and bough,
+      Is a musjid of carved and coloured stone;
+    And Abdool Shureef Khan--I spit, to name that man!--
+      Lieth there, underneath, all alone.
+
+    "He was Sultan Mahmoud's vassal, and wore an Amir's tassel
+      In his green hadj-turban, at Nungul.
+    Yet the head which went so proud, it is not in his shroud;
+      There are bones in that grave,--but not a skull!
+
+    "And, deep drove in his breast, there moulders with the rest
+      A dagger, brighter once than Chundra's ray;
+    A Rajpoot lohar whet it, and a Rajpoot woman set it
+      Past the power of any hand to tear away.
+
+    "'Twas the Ranee Neila true, the wife of Soorj Dehu,
+      Lord of the Rajpoots of Nourpoor;
+    You shall hear the mournful story, with its sorrow and its glory,
+      And curse Shureef Khan,--the soor!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    All in the wide Five-Waters was none like Soorj Dehu,
+    To foeman who so dreadful, to friend what heart so true?
+
+    Like Indus, through the mountains came down the Muslim ranks,
+    And town-walls fell before them as flooded river-banks;
+
+    But Soorj Dehu the Rajpoot owned neither town nor wall;
+    His house the camp, his roof-tree the sky that covers all;
+
+    His seat of state the saddle; his robe a shirt of mail;
+    His court a thousand Rajpoots close at his stallion's tail.
+
+    Not less was Soorj a Rajah because no crown he wore
+    Save the grim helm of iron with sword-marks dinted o'er;
+
+    Because he grasped no sceptre save the sharp tulwar, made
+    Of steel that fell from heaven,--for 'twas Indra forged that blade!
+    And many a starless midnight the shout of "Soorj Dehu"
+    Broke up with spear and matchlock the Muslim's "Illahu."
+
+    And many a day of battle upon the Muslim proud
+    Tell Soorj, as India's lightning falls from the silent cloud.
+
+    Nor ever shot nor arrow, nor spear nor slinger's stone,
+    Could pierce the mail that Neila the Ranee buckled on:
+
+    But traitor's subtle tongue-thrust through fence of steel can break;
+    And Soorj was taken sleeping, whom none had ta'en awake.
+
+    Then at the noon, in durbar, swore fiercely Shureef Khan
+    That Soorj should die in torment, or live a Mussulman.
+
+    But Soorj laughed lightly at him, and answered, "Work your will!
+    The last breath of my body shall curse your Prophet still."
+
+    With words of insult shameful, and deeds of cruel kind,
+    They vexed that Rajpoot's body, but never moved his mind.
+
+    And one is come who sayeth, "Ho! Rajpoots! Soorj is bound;
+    Your lord is caged and baited by Shureef Khan, the hound.
+
+    "The Khan hath caught and chained him, like a beast, in iron cage,
+    And all the camp of Islam spends on him spite and rage;
+
+    "All day the coward Muslims spend on him rage and spite;
+    If ye have thought to help him, 'twere good ye go to-night."
+
+    Up sprang a hundred horsemen, flashed in each hand a sword;
+    In each heart burned the gladness of dying for their lord;
+
+    Up rose each Rajpoot rider, and buckled on with speed
+    The bridle-chain and breast-cord, and the saddle of his steed.
+
+    But unto none sad Neila gave word to mount and ride;
+    Only she called the brothers of Soorj unto her side,
+
+    And said, "Take order straightway to seek this camp with me;
+    If love and craft can conquer, a thousand is as three.
+
+    "If love be weak to save him, Soorj dies--and ye return,
+    For where a Rajpoot dieth, the Rajpoot widows burn."
+
+    Thereat the Ranee Neila unbraided from her hair
+    The pearls as great as Kashmir grapes Soorj gave his wife to wear,
+
+    And all across her bosoms--like lotus-buds to see--
+    She wrapped the tinselled sari of a dancing Kunchenee;
+
+    And fastened on her ankles the hundred silver bells,
+    To whose light laugh of music the Nautch-girl darts and dwells.
+
+    And all in dress a Nautch-girl, but all in heart a queen,
+    She set her foot to stirrup with a sad and settled mien.
+
+    Only one thing she carried no Kunchenee should bear,
+    The knife between her bosoms;--ho, Shureef! have a care!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Thereat, with running ditty of mingled pride and pity,
+      Jymul Rao makes the six wires sigh;
+    And the girls with tearful eyes note the music's fall and rise,
+      And the boys let the fire fade and die.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    All day lay Soorj the Rajpoot in Shureef's iron cage,
+    All day the coward Muslims spent on him spite and rage.
+
+    With bitter cruel torments, and deeds of shameful kind,
+    They racked and broke his body, but could not shake his mind.
+
+    And only at the Azan, when all their worst was vain,
+    They left him, like dogs slinking from a lion in his pain.
+
+    No meat nor drink they gave him through all that burning day,
+    And done to death, but scornful, at twilight-time he lay.
+
+    So when the gem of Shiva uprose, the shining moon,
+    Soorj spake unto his spirit, "The end is coming soon."
+
+    "I would the end might hasten, could Neila only know--
+    What is that Nautch-girl singing with voice so known and low?
+
+    "Singing beneath the cage-bars the song of love and fear
+    My Neila sang at parting!--what doth that Nautch-girl here?
+
+    "Whence comes she by the music of Neila's tender strain,
+    She, in that shameless tinsel?--O Nautch-girl, sing again!"
+
+    "Ah, Soorj!"--so followed answer--"here thine own Neila stands,
+    Faithful in life and death alike,--look up, and take my hands:
+
+    "Speak low, lest the guard hear us;--to-night, if thou must die,
+    Shureef shall have no triumph, but bear thee company."
+
+    So sang she like the Koil that dies beside its mate;
+    With eye as black and fearless, and love as hot and great.
+
+    Then the Chief laid his pale lips upon the little palm,
+    And sank down with a smile of love, his face all glad and calm;
+
+    And through the cage-bars Neila felt the brave heart stop fast,
+    "O Soorj!"--she cried--"I follow! have patience to the last."
+
+    She turned and went. "Who passes?" challenged the Mussulman;
+    "A Nautch-girl, I."--"What seek'st thou?"--"The presence of the Khan;"
+
+    "Ask if the high chief-captain be pleased to hear me sing;"
+    And Shureef, full of feasting, the Kunchenee bade bring.
+
+    Then, all before the Muslims, aflame with lawless wine,
+    Entered the Ranee Neila, in grace and face divine;
+
+    And all before the Muslims, wagging their goatish chins,
+    The Rajpoot Princess set her to the "bee-dance" that begins,
+
+          "_If my love loved me, he should be a bee,
+            I the yellow champâk, love the honey of me._"
+
+    All the wreathed movements danced she of that dance;
+    Not a step she slighted, not a wanton glance;
+
+    In her unveiled bosom chased th' intruding bee,
+    To her waist--and lower--she! a Rajpoot, she!
+
+    Sang the melting music, swayed the languorous limb:
+    Shureef's drunken heart beat--Shureef's eyes waxed dim.
+
+    From his finger Shureef loosed an Ormuz pearl--
+    "By the Prophet," quoth he, "'tis a winsome girl!"
+
+    "Take this ring; and 'prithee, come and have thy pay,
+    I would hear at leisure more of such a lay."
+
+    Glared his eyes on her eyes, passing o'er the plain,
+    Glared at the tent-purdah--never glared again!
+
+    Never opened after unto gaze or glance,
+    Eyes that saw a Rajpoot dance a shameful dance;
+
+    For the kiss she gave him was his first and last--
+    Kiss of dagger, driven to his heart, and past.
+
+    At her feet he wallowed, choked with wicked blood;
+    In his breast the katar quivered where it stood.
+
+    At the hilt his fingers vainly--wildly--try,
+    Then they stiffen feeble;--die! thou slayer, die!
+
+    From his jewelled scabbard drew she Shureef's sword,
+    Cut a-twain the neck-bone of the Muslim lord.
+
+    Underneath the starlight,--sooth, a sight of dread!
+    Like the Goddess Kali, comes she with the head,
+
+    Comes to where her brothers guard their murdered chief;
+    All the camp is silent, but the night is brief.
+
+    At his feet she flings it, flings her burden vile;
+    "Soorj! I keep my promise! Brothers, build the pile!"
+
+    They have built it, set it, all as Rajpoots do
+    From the cage of iron taken Soorj Dehu;
+
+    In the lap of Neila, seated on the pile,
+    Laid his head--she radiant, like a queen the while.
+
+    Then the lamp is lighted, and the ghee is poured--
+    "Soorj, we burn together: O my love, my lord!"
+
+    In the flame and crackle dies her tender tongue,
+    Dies the Ranee, truest, all true wives among.
+
+    At the dawn a clamour runs from tent to tent,
+    Like the wild geese cackling when the night is spent.
+
+    "Shureef Khan lies headless! gone is Soorj Dehu!
+    And the wandering Nautch-girl, who has seen her, who?"
+
+    This but know the sentries, at the "breath of morn"
+    Forth there fared two horsemen, by the first was borne.
+
+    The urn of clay, the vessel that Rajpoots use to bring
+    The ashes of dead kinsmen to Gungas' holy spring.
+
+
+
+
+_KING SALADIN_.
+
+
+    Long years ago--so tells Boccaccio
+    In such Italian gentleness of speech
+    As finds no echo in this northern air
+    To counterpart its music--long ago,
+    When Saladin was Soldan of the East,
+    The kings let cry a general crusade;
+    And to the trysting-plains of Lombardy
+    The idle lances of the North and West
+    Rode all that spring, as all the spring runs down
+    Into a lake, from all its hanging hills,
+    The clash and glitter of a hundred streams.
+      Whereof the rumour reached to Saladin;
+    And that swart king--as royal in his heart
+    As any crowned champion of the Cross--
+    That he might fully, of his knowledge, learn
+    The purpose of the lords of Christendom,
+    And when their war and what their armament,
+    Took thought to cross the seas to Lombardy.
+    Wherefore, with wise and trustful Amirs twain,
+    All habited in garbs that merchants use,
+    With trader's band and gipsire on the breasts
+    That best loved mail and dagger, Saladin
+    Set forth upon his journey perilous.
+      In that day, lordly land was Lombardy!
+    A sea of country-plenty, islanded
+    With cities rich; nor richer one than thee,
+    Marble Milano! from whose gate at dawn--
+    With ear that little recked the matin-bell,
+    But a keen eye to measure wall and foss--
+    The Soldan rode; and all day long he rode
+    For Pavia; passing basilic, and shrine,
+    And gaze of vineyard-workers, wotting not
+    Yon trader was the Lord of Heathenesse.
+    All day he rode; yet at the wane of day
+    No gleam of gate, or ramp, or rising spire,
+    Nor Tessin's sparkle underneath the stars
+    Promised him Pavia; but he was 'ware
+    Of a gay company upon the way,
+    Ladies and lords, with horses, hawks, and hounds:
+    Cap-plumes and tresses fluttered by the wind
+    Of merry race for home. "Go!" said the king
+    To one that rode upon his better hand,
+    "And pray these gentles of their courtesy
+    How many leagues to Pavia, and the gates
+    What hour they close them?" Then the Saracen
+    Set spur, and being joined to him that seemed
+    First of the hunt, he told the message--they
+    Checking the jangling bits, and chiding down
+    The unfinished laugh to listen--but by this
+    Came up the king, his bonnet in his hand,
+    Theirs doffed to him: "Sir Trader," Torel said
+    (Messer Torello 'twas, of Istria),
+    "They shut the Pavian gate at even-song,
+    And even-song is sung." Then turning half,
+    Muttered, "Pardie, the man is worshipful,
+    A stranger too!" "Fair lord!" quoth Saladin,
+    "Please you to stead some weary travellers,
+    Saying where we may lodge, the town so far
+    And night so near" "Of my heart, willingly,"
+    Made answer Torel, "I did think but now
+    To send my knave an errand--he shall ride
+    And bring you into lodgment--oh! no thanks,
+    Our Lady keep you!" then with whispered hest
+    He called their guide and sped them. Being gone.
+    Torello told his purpose, and the band,
+    With ready zeal and loosened bridle-chains,
+    Rode for his hunting-palace, where they set
+    A goodly banquet underneath the planes,
+    And hung the house with guest-lights, and anon
+    Welcomed the wondering strangers, thereto led
+    Unwitting, by a world of winding paths;
+    Messer Torello, at the inner gate,
+    Waiting to take them in--a goodly host,
+    Stamped current with God's image for a man
+    Chief among men, truthful, and just, and free.
+      Then he, "Well met again, fair sirs! Our knave
+    Hath found you shelter better than the worst:
+    Please you to leave your selles, and being bathed,
+    Grace our poor supper here." Then Saladin,
+    Whose sword had yielded ere his courtesy,
+    Answered, "Great thanks, Sir Knight, and this much blame,
+    You spoil us for our trade! two bonnets doffed,
+    And travellers' questions holding you afield,
+    For those you give us this." "Sir! not your meed,
+    Nor worthy of your breeding; but in sooth
+    That is not out of Pavia." Thereupon
+    He led them to fair chambers decked with all
+    Makes tired men glad; lights, and the marble bath,
+    And flasks that sparkled, liquid amethyst,
+    And grapes, not dry as yet from evening dew.
+      Thereafter at the supper-board they sat;
+    Nor lacked it, though its guest was reared a king,
+    Worthy provend in crafts of cookery,
+    Pastel, pasticcio--all set forth on gold;
+    And gracious talk and pleasant courtesies,
+    Spoken in stately Latin, cheated time
+    Till there was none but held the stranger-sir,
+    For all his chapman's dress of cramasie,
+    Goodlier than silks could make him. Presently
+    Talk rose upon the Holy Sepulchre:
+    "I go myself," said Torel, "with a score
+    Of better knights--the flower of Pavia--
+    To try our steel against King Saladin's.
+    Sirs! ye have seen the countries of the Sun,
+    Know you the Soldan?" Answer gave the king,
+    "The Soldan we have seen--'twill push him hard
+    If, which I nothing doubt, you Pavian lords
+    Are valorous as gentle;--we, alas!
+    Are Cyprus merchants making trade to France--
+    Dull sons of Peace." "By Mary!" Torel cried,
+    "But for thy word, I ne'er heard speech so fit
+    To lead the war, nor saw a hand that sat
+    Liker a soldier's in the sabre's place;
+    But sure I hold you sleepless!" Then himself
+    Playing the chamberlain, with torches borne,
+    Led them to restful beds, commending them
+    To sleep and God, Who hears--Allah or God--
+    When good men do his creatures charities.
+      At dawn the cock, and neigh of saddled steeds,
+    Broke the king's dreams of battle--not their own,
+    But goodly jennets from Torello's stalls,
+    Caparisoned to bear them; he their host
+    Up, with a gracious radiance like the sun,
+    To bid them speed. Beside him in the court
+    Stood Dame Adalieta; comely she,
+    And of her port as queenly, and serene
+    As if the braided gold about her brows
+    Had been a crown. Mutual good-morrow given,
+    Thanks said and stayed, the lady prayed her guest
+    To take a token of his sojourn there,
+    Marking her good-will, not his worthiness;
+    "A gown of miniver--these furbelows
+    Are silk I spun--my lord wears ever such--
+    A housewife's gift! but those ye love are far;
+    Wear it as given for them." Then Saladin--
+    "A precious gift, Madonna, past my thanks;
+    And--but thou shalt not hear a 'no' from me--
+    Past my receiving; yet I take it; we
+    Were debtors to your noble courtesy
+    Out of redemption--this but bankrupts us."
+    "Nay, sir,--God shield you!" said the knight and dame.
+    And Saladin, with phrase of gentilesse
+    Returned, or ever that he rode alone,
+    Swore a great oath in guttural Arabic,
+    An oath by Allah--startling up the ears
+    Of those three Christian cattle they bestrode--
+    That never yet was princelier-natured man,
+    Nor gentler lady;--and that time should see
+    For a king's lodging quittance royal repaid.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    It was the day of the Passaggio:
+    Ashore the war-steeds champed the burnished bit;
+    Afloat the galleys tugged the mooring-chain:
+    The town was out; the Lombard armourers--
+    Red-hot with riveting the helmets up,
+    And whetting axes for the heathen heads--
+    Cooled in the crowd that filled the squares and street:
+    To speed God's soldiers. At the none that day
+    Messer Torello to the gate came down,
+    Leading his lady;--sorrow's hueless rose
+    Grew on her cheek, and thrice the destrier
+    Struck fire, impatient, from the pavement-squares,
+    Or ere she spoke, tears in her lifted eyes,
+    "Goest thou, lord of mine?" "Madonna, yes!"
+    Said Torel, "for my soul's weal and the Lord
+    Ride I to-day: my good name and my house
+    Reliant I intrust thee, and--because
+    It may be they shall slay me, and because,
+    Being so young, so fair, and so reputed,
+    The noblest will entreat thee--wait for me,
+    Widow or wife, a year, and month, and day;
+    Then if thy kinsmen press thee to a choice,
+    And if I be not come, hold me for dead;
+    Nor link thy blooming beauty with the grave
+    Against thine heart." "Good my lord!" answered she,
+    "Hardly my heart sustains to let thee go;
+    Thy memory it can keep, and keep it will,
+    Though my one lord, Torel of Istria,
+    Live, or----" "Sweet, comfort thee! San Pietro speed!
+    I shall come home: if not, and worthy knees
+    Bend for this hand, whereof none worthy lives,
+    Least he who lays his last kiss thus upon it,
+    Look thee, I free it----" "Nay!" she said, "but I,
+    A petulant slave that hugs her golden chain,
+    Give that gift back, and with it this poor ring:
+    Set it upon thy sword-hand, and in fight
+    Be merciful and win, thinking of me."
+    Then she, with pretty action, drawing on
+    Her ruby, buckled over it his glove--
+    The great steel glove--and through the helmet bars
+    Took her last kiss;--then let the chafing steed
+    Have its hot will and go.
+                               But Saladin,
+    Safe back among his lords at Lebanon,
+    Well wotting of their quest, awaited it,
+    And held the Crescent up against the Cross,
+    In many a doughty fight Ferrara blades
+    Clashed with keen Damasc, many a weary month
+    Wasted afield; but yet the Christians
+    Won nothing nearer to Christ's sepulchre;
+    Nay, but gave ground. At last, in Acre pent,
+    On their loose files, enfeebled by the war,
+    Came stronger smiter than the Saracen--
+    The deadly Pest: day after day they died,
+    Pikeman and knight-at-arms; day after day
+    A thinner line upon the leaguered wall
+    Held off the heathen:--held them off a space;
+    Then, over-weakened, yielded, and gave up
+    The city and the stricken garrison.
+      So to sad chains and hateful servitude
+    Fell all those purple lords--Christendom's stars,
+    Once high in hope as soaring Lucifer,
+    Now low as sinking Hesper: with them fell
+    Messer Torello--never one so poor
+    Of all the hundreds that his bounty fed
+    As he in prison--ill-entreated, bound,
+    Starved of sweet light, and set to shameful tasks;
+    And that great load at heart to know the days
+    Fast flying, and to live accounted dead.
+    One joy his gaolers left him,--his good hawk;
+    The brave, gay bird that crossed the seas with him:
+    And often, in the mindful hour of eve,
+    With tameless eye and spirit masterful,
+    In a feigned anger checking at his hand,
+    The good gray falcon made his master cheer.
+
+    One day it chanced Saladin rode afield
+    With shawled and turbaned Amirs, and his hawks--
+    Lebanon-bred, and mewed as princes lodge--
+    Flew foul, forgot their feather, hung at wrist,
+    And slighted call. The Soldan, quick in wrath,
+    Bade slay the cravens, scourge the falconer,
+    And seek some wight who knew the heart of hawks,
+    To keep it hot and true. Then spake a Sheikh--
+    "There is a Frank in prison by the sea,
+    Far-seen herein." "Give word that he be brought,"
+    Quoth Saladin, "and bid him set a cast:
+    If he hath skill, it shall go well for him."
+
+    Thus by the winding path of circumstance
+    One palace held, as prisoner and prince,
+    Torello and his guest: unwitting each,
+    Nay and unwitting, though they met and spake
+    Of that goshawk and this--signors in serge,
+    And chapmen crowned, who knows?--till on a time
+    Some trick of face, the manner of some smile,
+    Some gleam of sunset from the glad day gone,
+    Caught the king's eye, and held it. "Nazarene!
+    What native art thou?" asked he. "Lombard I,
+    A man of Pavia." "And thy name?" "Torel,
+    Messer Torello called in happier times,
+    Now best uncalled." "Come hither, Christian!"
+    The Soldan said, and led the way, by court
+    And hall and fountain, to an inner room
+    Rich with king's robes: therefrom he reached a gown,
+    And "Know'st thou this?" he asked. "High lord! I might
+    Elsewhere," quoth Torel, "here 'twere mad to say
+    Yon gown my wife unto a trader gave
+    Who shared our board." "Nay, but that gown is this,
+    And she the giver, and the trader I,"
+    Quoth Saladin; "I! twice a king to-day,
+    Owing a royal debt and paying it."
+    Then Torel, sore amazed, "Great lord, I blush,
+    Remembering how the Master of the East
+    Lodged sorrily." "It's Master's Master thou!"
+    Gave answer Saladin, "come in and see
+    What wares the Cyprus traders keep at home;
+    Come forth and take thy place, Saladin's friend,"
+    Therewith into the circle of his lords,
+    With gracious mien the Soldan led his slave;
+    And while the dark eyes glittered, seated him
+    First of the full divan. "Orient lords,"
+    So spake he,--"let the one who loves his king
+    Honour this Frank, whose house sheltered your king;
+    He is my brother:" then the night-black beards
+    Swept the stone floor in ready reverence,
+    Agas and Amirs welcoming Torel:
+    And a great feast was set, the Soldan's friend
+    Royally garbed, upon the Soldan's hand,
+    Shining the bright star of the banqueters.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    All which, and the abounding grace and love
+    Shown him by Saladin, a little held
+    The heart of Torel from its Lombard home
+    With Dame Adalieta: but it chanced
+    He sat beside the king in audience,
+    And there came one who said, "Oh, Lord of lords,
+    That galley of the Genovese which sailed
+    With Frankish prisoners is gone down at sea."
+    "Gone down!" cried Torel. "Ay! what recks it, friend,
+    To fall thy visage for?" quoth Saladin;
+    "One galley less to ship-stuffed Genoa!"
+    "Good my liege!" Torel said, "it bore a scroll
+    Inscribed to Pavia, saying that I lived;
+    For in a year, a month, and day, not come,
+    I bade them hold me dead; and dead I am,
+    Albeit living, if my lady wed,
+    Perchance constrained." "Certes," spake Saladin,
+    "A noble dame--the like not won, once lost--
+    How many days remain?" "Ten days, my prince,
+    And twelvescore leagues between my heart and me:
+    Alas! how to be passed?" Then Saladin--
+    "Lo! I am loath to lose thee--wilt thou swear
+    To come again if all go well with thee,
+    Or come ill speeding?" "Yea, I swear, my king,
+    Out of true love," quoth Torel, "heartfully."
+    Then Saladin, "Take here my signet-seal;
+    My admiral will loose his swiftest sail
+    Upon its sight; and cleave the seas, and go
+    And clip thy dame, and say the Trader sends
+    A gift, remindful of her courtesies."
+      Passed were the year, and month, and day; and passed
+    Out of all hearts but one Sir Torel's name,
+    Long given for dead by ransomed Pavians:
+    For Pavia, thoughtless of her Eastern graves,
+    A lovely widow, much too gay for grief,
+    Made peals from half a hundred campaniles
+    To ring a wedding in. The seven bells
+    Of Santo Pietro, from the nones to noon,
+    Boomed with bronze throats the happy tidings out;
+    Till the great tenor, overswelled with sound,
+    Cracked itself dumb. Thereat the sacristan,
+    Leading his swinkèd ringers down the stairs,
+    Came blinking into sunlight--all his keys
+    Jingling their little peal about his belt--
+    Whom, as he tarried, locking up the porch,
+    A foreign signor, browned with southern suns,
+    Turbaned and slippered, as the Muslims use,
+    Plucked by the cope. "Friend," quoth he--'twas a tongue
+    Italian true, but in a Muslim mouth--
+    "Why are your belfries busy--is it peace
+    Or victory, that so ye din the ears
+    Of Pavian lieges?" "Truly, no liege thou!"
+    Grunted the sacristan, "who knowest not
+    That Dame Adalieta weds to-night
+    Her fore-betrothed,--Sir Torel's widow she,
+    That died i' the chain?" "To-night!" the stranger said
+    "Ay, sir, to-night!--why not to-night?--to-night!
+    And you shall see a goodly Christian feast
+    If so you pass their gates at even-song,
+    For all are asked."
+                         No more the questioner,
+    But folded o'er his face the Eastern hood,
+    Lest idle eyes should mark how idle words
+    Had struck him home. "So quite forgot!--so soon!--
+    And this the square wherein I gave the joust,
+    And that the loggia, where I fed the poor;
+    And yon my palace, where--oh, fair! oh, false!--
+    They robe her for a bridal. Can it be?
+    Clean out of heart, with twice six flying moons,
+    The heart that beat on mine as it would break,
+    That faltered forty oaths. Forced! forced!--not false--
+    Well! I will sit, wife, at thy wedding-feast,
+    And let mine eyes give my fond faith the lie."
+      So in the stream of gallant guests that flowed
+    Feastward at eve, went Torel; passed with them
+    The outer gates, crossed the great courts with them,
+    A stranger in the walls that called him lord.
+    Cressets and coloured lamps made the way bright,
+    And rose-leaves strewed to where within the doors
+    The master of the feast, the bridegroom, stood,
+    A-glitter from his forehead to his foot,
+    Speaking fair welcomes. He, a courtly lord,
+    Marking the Eastern guest, bespoke him sweet,
+    Prayed place for him, and bade them set his seat
+    Upon the dais. Then the feast began,
+    And wine went free as wit, and music died--
+    Outdone by merrier laughter.--only one
+    Nor ate nor drank, nor spoke nor smiled; but gazed
+    On the pale bride, pale as her crown of pearls,
+    Who sate so cold and still, and sad of cheer,
+    At the bride-feast.
+                         But of a truth, Torel
+    Read the thoughts right that held her eyelids down,
+    And knew her loyal to her memories.
+    Then to a little page who bore the wine,
+    He spake, "Go tell thy lady thus from me:
+    In mine own land, if any stranger sit
+    A wedding-guest, the bride, out of her grace,
+    In token that she knows her guest's good-will,
+    In token she repays it, brims a cup,
+    Wherefrom he drinking she in turn doth drink;
+    So is our use." The little page made speed
+    And told the message. Then that lady pale--
+    Ever a gentle and a courteous heart--
+    Lifted her troubled eyes and smiled consent
+    On the swart stranger. By her side, untouched,
+    Stood the brimmed gold; "Bear this," she said, "and pray
+    He hold a Christian lady apt to learn
+    A kindly lesson." But Sir Torel loosed
+    From off his finger--never loosed before--
+    The ring she gave him on the parting day;
+    And ere he drank, behind his veil of beard
+    Dropped in the cup the ruby, quaffed, and sent.--
+    Then she, with sad smile, set her lips to drink,
+    And--something in the Cyprus touching them,
+    Glanced--gazed--the ring!--her ring!--Jove! how she eyes
+    The wistful eyes of Torel!--how, heartsure,
+    Under all guise knowing her lord returned,
+    She springs to meet him coming!--telling all
+    In one great cry of joy.
+                         O me! the rout,
+    The storm of questions! stilled, when Torel spake
+    His name, and, known of all, claimed the Bride Wife,
+    Maugre the wasted feast, and woful groom.
+    All hearts but his were light to see Torel;
+    But Adalieta's lightest, as she plucked
+    The bridal-veil away. Something therein--
+    A lady's dagger--small, and bright, and fine--
+    Clashed out upon the marble. "Wherefore that?"
+    Asked Torel; answered she, "I knew you true;
+    And I could live, so long as I might wait;
+    But they--they pressed me hard! my days of grace
+    Ended to-night--and I had ended too,
+    Faithful to death, if so thou hadst not come."
+
+
+
+
+_THE CALIPH'S DRAUGHT_.
+
+
+    Upon a day in Ramadan--
+      When sunset brought an end of fast,
+    And in his station every man
+      Prepared to share the glad repast--
+    Sate Mohtasim in royal state,
+      The pillaw smoked upon the gold;
+    The fairest slave of those that wait
+      Mohtasim's jewelled cup did hold.
+
+    Of crystal carven was the cup,
+      With turquoise set along the brim,
+    A lid of amber closed it up;
+      'Twas a great king that gave it him.
+    The slave poured sherbet to the brink,
+      Stirred in wild honey and pomegranate,
+    With snow and rose-leaves cooled the drink,
+      And bore it where the Caliph sate.
+
+    The Caliph's mouth was dry as bone,
+      He swept his beard aside to quaff:--
+    The news-reader beneath the throne,
+      Went droning on with _ghain_ and _kaf_.--
+    The Caliph drew a mighty breath,
+      Just then the reader read a word--
+    And Mohtasim, as grim as death,
+      Set down the cup and snatched his sword.
+
+    "_Ann' amratan shureefatee!_"
+      "Speak clear!" cries angry Mohtasim;
+    "_Fe lasr ind' ilj min ulji_,"--
+      Trembling the newsman read to him
+    How in Ammoria, far from home,
+      An Arab girl of noble race
+    Was captive to a lord of Roum;
+      And how he smote her on the face,
+
+    And how she cried, for life afraid,
+      "Ya, Mohtasim! help, O my king!"
+    And how the Kafir mocked the maid,
+      And laughed, and spake a bitter thing,
+    "Call louder, fool! Mohtasim's ears
+      Are long as Barak's--if he heed--
+    Your prophet's ass; and when he hears,
+      He'll come upon a spotted steed!"
+
+    The Caliph's face was stern and red,
+      He snapped the lid upon the cup;
+    "Keep this same sherbet, slave," he said,
+      "Till such time as I drink it up.
+    Wallah! the stream my drink shall be,
+      My hollowed palm my only bowl,
+    Till I have set that lady free,
+      And seen that Roumi dog's head roll."
+
+    At dawn the drums of war were beat,
+      Proclaiming, "Thus saith Mohtasim,
+    'Let all my valiant horsemen meet,
+      And every soldier bring with him
+    A spotted steed,'" So rode they forth,
+      A sight of marvel and of fear;
+    Pied horses prancing fiercely north;
+      The crystal cup borne in the rear!
+
+    When to Ammoria he did win,
+      He smote and drove the dogs of Roum,
+    And rode his spotted stallion in,
+      Crying, "_Labbayki!_ I am come!"
+    Then downward from her prison-place
+      Joyful the Arab lady crept;
+    She held her hair before her face,
+      She kissed his feet, she laughed and wept.
+
+    She pointed where that lord was laid:
+      They drew him forth, he whined for grace:
+    Then with fierce eyes Mohtasim said--
+      "She whom thou smotest on the face
+    Had scorn, because she called her king:
+      Lo! he is come! and dost thou think
+    To live, who didst this bitter thing
+      While Mohtasim at peace did drink?"
+
+    Flashed the fierce sword--rolled the lord's head;
+      The wicked blood smoked in the sand.
+    "Now bring my cup!" the Caliph said.
+      Lightly he took it in his hand,
+    As down his throat the sweet drink ran
+      Mohtasim in his saddle laughed,
+    And cried, "_Taiba asshrab alan!_
+      By God! delicious is this draught!"
+
+
+
+
+_HINDOO FUNERAL SONG_.
+
+
+    Call on Rama! call to Rama!
+    Oh, my brothers, call on Rama!
+      For this Dead
+      Whom we bring,
+    Call aloud to mighty Rama.
+
+    As we bear him, oh, my brothers,
+    Call together, very loudly,
+      That the Bhûts
+      May be scared;
+    That his spirit pass in comfort.
+
+    Turn his feet now, calling "Rama,"
+    Calling "Rama," who shall take him
+      When the flames
+      Make an end:
+    Ram! Ram!--oh, call to Rama.
+
+
+
+
+_SONG OF THE SERPENT-CHARMERS._
+
+
+    Come forth, oh, Snake! come forth, oh, glittering Snake!
+    Oh shining, lovely, deadly Nâg! appear,
+    Dance to the music that we make,
+          This serpent-song, so sweet and clear,
+          Blown on the beaded gourd, so clear,
+                        So soft and clear.
+
+    Oh, dread Lord Snake! come forth and spread thy hood,
+    And drink the milk and suck the eggs; and show
+    Thy tongue; and own the tune is good:
+          Hear, Maharaj! how hard we blow!
+          Ah, Maharaj! for thee we blow;
+                        See how we blow!
+
+    Great Uncle Snake! creep forth and dance to-day!
+    This music is the music snakes love best;
+    Taste the warm white new milk, and play
+          Standing erect, with fangs at rest,
+          Dancing on end, sharp fangs at rest,
+                        Fierce fangs at rest.
+
+    Ah, wise Lord Nâg! thou comest!--Fear thou not!
+    We make salaam to thee, the Serpent-King,
+    Draw forth thy folds, knot after knot;
+          Dance, Master! while we softly sing;
+          Dance, Serpent! while we play and sing,
+                        We play and sing.
+
+    Dance, dreadful King! whose kisses strike men dead;
+    Dance this side, mighty Snake! the milk is here!
+
+[_They seize the Cobra by the neck_.]
+
+    Ah, _shabash_! pin his angry head!
+          Thou fool! this nautch shall cost thee dear;
+          Wrench forth his fangs! this piping clear,
+                        It costs thee dear!
+
+
+
+
+_SONG OF THE FLOUR-MILL._
+
+
+    Turn the merry mill-stone, Gunga!
+      Pour the golden grain in;
+    Those that twist the Churrak fastest
+      The cakes soonest win:
+        Good stones, turn!
+        The fire begins to burn;
+        Gunga, stay not!
+        The hearth is nearly hot.
+    Grind the hard gold to silver;
+      Sing quick to the stone;
+    Feed its mouth with dal and bajri,
+      It will feed us anon.
+
+    Sing, Gunga! to the mill-stone,
+      It helps the wheel hum;
+    Blithesome hearts and willing elbows
+      Make the fine meal come:
+        Handsful three
+        For you and for me;
+        Now it falls white,
+        Good stones, bite!
+    Drive it round and round, my Gunga!
+      Sing soft to the stone;
+    Better corn and churrak-working
+      Than idleness and none.
+
+
+
+
+_TAZA BA TAZA_
+
+
+    Akbar sate high in the ivory hall,
+    His chief musician he bade them call;
+    Sing, said the king, that song of glee.
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now._
+    Sing me that music sweet and free,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_;
+    Here by the fountain sing it thou,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now._
+
+    Bending full low, his minstrel took
+    The Vina down from its painted nook.
+    Swept the strings of silver so
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_
+    Made the gladsome Vina go
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_
+    Sang with light strains and brightsome brow
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_.
+
+    "What is the lay for love most fit?
+    What is the melody echoes it?
+    Ever in tune and ever meet,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_
+    Ever delightful and ever sweet
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_
+    Soft as the murmur of love's first vow,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_."
+
+    "What is the bliss that is best on earth?
+    Lovers' light whispers and tender mirth;
+    Bright gleams the sun on the Green Sea's isle,
+    But a brighter light has a woman's smile:
+    Ever, like sunrise, fresh of hue,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_;
+    Ever, like sunset, splendid and new,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_."
+
+    "Thereunto groweth the graceful vine
+    To cool the lips of lovers with wine,
+    Haste thee and bring the amethyst cup,
+    That happy lovers may drink it up;
+    And so renew their gentle play,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_;
+    Ever delicious and new alway,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_."
+
+    "Thereunto sigheth the evening gale
+    To freshen the cheeks which love made pale;
+    This is why bloometh the scented flower,
+    To gladden with grace love's secret bower:
+    Love is the zephyr that always blows,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_;
+    Love is the rose-bloom that ever glows,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_."
+
+    Akbar, the mighty one, smiled to hear
+    The musical strain so soft and clear;
+    Danced the diamonds over his brow
+      To _taza ba taza, now ba now_:
+    His lovely ladies rocked in a row
+      To _taza ba taza, now ba now_;
+
+    Livelier sparkled the fountain's flow,
+      _Boose sittan ba kaum uzo_;
+    Swifter and sweeter the strings did go,
+      _Mutrib i khoosh nuwa bejo_;
+    Never such singing was heard, I trow;
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_.
+
+
+
+
+_THE MUSSULMAN PARADISE_.
+
+(_From the Arabic of the Fifty-sixth Súrat of the Koran, entitled "The
+Inevitable._")
+
+
+    When the Day of Wrath and Mercy cometh, none shall doubt it come;
+    Unto hell some it shall lower, and exalt to heaven some.
+
+    When the Earth with great shocks shaketh, and the mountains crumble
+        flat,
+    Quick and Dead shall be divided fourfold:--on this side and that.
+
+    The "Companions of the Right Hand" (ah! how joyful they will be!)
+    The "Companions of the Left Hand" (oh! what misery to see!)
+
+    Such, moreover, as of old times loved the truth, and taught it well,
+    First in faith, they shall be foremost in reward. The rest to hell.
+
+    But those souls attaining Allah, oh! the Gardens of good cheer
+    Kept to bless them! Yea, besides the "faithful," many shall be there.
+
+    Lightly lying on soft couches, beautiful with 'broidered gold,
+    Friends with friends, they shall be served by youths immortal, who
+        shall hold.
+
+    "_Akwâb, abareek_"--cups and goblets, brimming with celestial wine,
+    Wine that hurts not head or stomach: this and fruits of heav'n which
+        shine.
+
+    Bright, desirable; and rich flesh of what birds they relish best.
+    Yea! and--feasted--there shall soothe them damsels fairest, stateliest;
+
+    Damsels, having eyes of wonder, large black eyes, like hidden pearls,
+    "_Lulu-l-maknûn_": Allah grants them for sweet love those matchless
+        girls.
+
+    Never in that Garden hear they speech of folly, sin, or dread,
+    Only PEACE; "_SALAMUN_" only; that one word for ever said.
+
+    PEACE! PEACE! PEACE!--and the "Companions of the Right Hand" (ah!
+        those bowers!)
+    They shall lodge 'mid thornless lote-groves; under mawz-trees thick
+        with flowers;
+
+    Shaded, fed, by flowing waters; near to fruits that never cloy,
+    Hanging ever ripe for plucking; and at hand the tender joy,
+
+    Of those Maids of Heaven--the Hûris. Lo! to these we gave a birth
+    Specially creating. Lo! they are not as the wives of earth.
+
+    Ever virginal and stainless, howsooften they embrace,
+    Always young, and loved, and loving, these are. Neither is there grace,
+
+    Like the grace and bliss the Black-eyed keep for you in Paradise;
+    Oh, "Companions of the Right Hand"! oh! ye others who were wise!
+
+
+
+
+_DEDICATION OF A POEM FROM THE SANSKRIT_.
+
+
+    Sweet, on the daisies of your English grave
+      I lay this little wreath of Indian flowers,
+    Fragrant for me because the scent they have
+      Breathes of the memory of our wedded hours;
+
+    For others scentless; and for you, in heaven,
+      Too pale and faded, dear dead wife! to wear,
+    Save that they mean--what makes all fault forgiven--
+      That he who brings them lays his heart, too, there.
+
+_April_ 9, 1865.
+
+
+
+
+_THE RAJAH'S RIDE_.
+
+A PUNJAB SONG.
+
+
+    Now is the Devil-horse come to Sindh!
+      Wah! wah! gooroo!--that is true!
+    His belly is stuffed with the fire and the wind,
+      But a fleeter steed had Runjeet Dehu!
+
+    It's forty koss from Lahore to the ford,
+      Forty and more to far Jummoo;
+    Fast may go the Feringhee lord,
+      But never so fast as Runjeet Dehu!
+
+    Runjeet Dehu was King of the Hill,
+      Lord and eagle of every crest;
+    Now the swords and the spears are still,
+      God will have it--and God knows best!
+
+    Rajah Runjeet sate in the sky,
+      Watching the loaded Kafilas in;
+    Affghan, Kashmeree, passing by,
+      Paid him pushm to save their skin,
+
+    Once he caracoled into the plain,
+      Wah! the sparkle of steel on steel!
+    And up the pass came singing again
+      With a lakh of silver borne at his heel.
+
+    Once he trusted the Mussulman's word,
+      Wah! wah! trust a liar to lie!
+    Down from his eyrie they tempted my Bird,
+      And clipped his wings that he could not fly.
+
+    Fettered him fast in far Lahore,
+      Fast by the gate at the Runchenee Pûl;
+    Sad was the soul of Chunda Kour,
+      Glad the merchants of rich Kurnool.
+
+    Ten months Runjeet lay in Lahore--
+      Wah! a hero's heart is brass!
+    Ten months never did Chunda Kour
+      Braid her hair at the tiring-glass.
+
+    There came a steed from Toorkistan,
+      Wah! God made him to match the hawk!
+    Fast beside him the four grooms ran,
+      To keep abreast of the Toorkman's walk.
+
+    Black as the bear on Iskardoo;
+      Savage at heart as a tiger chained;
+    Fleeter than hawk that ever flew,
+      Never a Muslim could ride him reined.
+
+    "Runjeet Dehu! come forth from thy hold"--
+      Wah! ten months had rusted his chain!
+    "Ride this Sheitan's liver cold"--
+      Runjeet twisted his hand in the mane.
+
+    Runjeet sprang to the Toorkman's back,
+      Wah! a king on a kingly throne!
+    Snort, black Sheitan! till nostrils crack,
+      Rajah Runjeet sits, a stone.
+
+    Three times round the Maidan he rode,
+      Touched its neck at the Kashmeree wall,
+    Struck the spurs till they spirted blood,
+      Leapt the rampart before them all!
+
+    Breasted the waves of the blue Ravee,
+      Forty horsemen mounting behind,
+    Forty bridle-chains flung free,--
+      Wah! wah! better chase the wind!
+
+    Chunda Kour sate sad in Jummoo:--
+      Hark! what horse-hoof echoes without?
+    "Rise! and welcome Runjeet Dehu--
+      Wash the Toorkman's nostrils out!
+
+    "Forty koss he has come, my life!
+      Forty koss back he must carry me;
+    Rajah Runjeet visits his wife,
+      He steals no steed like an Afreedee.
+
+    "They bade me teach them how to ride--
+      Wah! wah! now I have taught them well!"
+    Chunda Kour sank low at his side!
+      Rajah Runjeet rode the hill.
+
+    When he came back to far Lahore--
+      Long or ever the night began--
+    Spake he, "Take your horse once more,
+      He carries well--when he bears a man."
+
+    Then they gave him a khillut and gold,
+      All for his honour and grace and truth;
+    Sent him back to his mountain-hold--
+      Muslim manners have touch of ruth;
+
+    Sent him back, with dances and drum--
+      Wah! my Rajah Runjeet Dehu!
+    To Chunda Kour and his Jummoo home--
+      Wah! wah! futteh!--wah, gooroo!
+
+
+
+
+_TWO BOOKS FROM THE ILIAD OF INDIA._
+
+
+
+
+_TWO BOOKS FROM THE ILIAD OF INDIA._
+
+(_Now for the first time translated_.)
+
+
+There exist certain colossal, unparalleled, epic poems in the sacred
+language of India, which were not known to Europe, even by name, till Sir
+William Jones announced their existence; and which, since his time, have
+been made public only by fragments--by mere specimens--bearing to those
+vast treasures of Sanskrit literature such small proportion as cabinet
+samples of ore have to the riches of a mine. Yet these twain mighty poems
+contain all the history of ancient India, so far as it can be recovered,
+together with such inexhaustible details of its political, social, and
+religious life that the antique Hindu world really stands epitomised in
+them. The Old Testament is not more interwoven with the Jewish race, nor
+the New Testament with the civilisation of Christendom, nor the Koran with
+the records and destinies of Islam, than are these two Sanskrit poems--the
+Mahábhárata and Rámáyana--with that unchanging and teeming population which
+Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, rules as Empress of Hindustan. The stories,
+songs, and ballads, the histories and genealogies, the nursery tales and
+religious discourses, the art, the learning, the philosophy, the creeds,
+the moralities, the modes of thought; the very phrases, sayings, turns of
+expression, and daily ideas of the Hindu people, are taken from these
+poems. Their children and their wives are named out of them; so are their
+cities, temples, streets, and cattle. They have constituted the library,
+the newspaper, and the Bible--generation after generation--to all the
+succeeding and countless millions of Indian people; and it replaces
+patriotism with that race and stands in stead of nationality to possess
+these two precious and inexhaustible books, and to drink from them as from
+mighty and overflowing rivers. The value ascribed in Hindustan to these yet
+little-known epics has transcended all literary standards established in
+the West. They are personified, worshipped, and cited from as something
+divine. To read or even listen to them is thought by the devout Hindu
+sufficiently meritorious to bring prosperity to his household here and
+happiness in the next world; they are held also to give wealth to the poor,
+health to the sick, wisdom to the ignorant; and the recitation of certain
+_parvas_ and _shlokas_ in them can fill the household of the barren, it is
+believed, with children. A concluding passage of the great poem says:--
+
+     "The reading of this Mahábhárata destroys all sin and
+     produces virtue; so much so, that the pronunciation of a
+     single shloka is sufficient to wipe away much guilt. This
+     Mahábhárata contains the history of the gods, of the Rishis
+     in heaven and those on earth, of the Gandharvas and the
+     Rákshasas. It also contains the life and actions of the one
+     God, holy, immutable, and true,--who is Krishna, who is the
+     creator and the ruler of this universe; who is seeking the
+     welfare of his creation by means of his incomparable and
+     indestructible power; whose actions are celebrated by all
+     sages; who has bound human beings in a chain, of which one
+     end is life and the other death; on whom the Rishis
+     meditate, and a knowledge of whom imparts unalloyed
+     happiness to their hearts, and for whose gratification and
+     favour all the daily devotions are performed by all
+     worshippers. If a man reads the Mahábhárata and has faith in
+     its doctrines, he is free from all sin, and ascends to
+     heaven after his death."
+
+In order to explain the portion of this Indian epic, here for the
+first time published in English verse, I reprint a brief summary of
+its plot:--
+
+The "great war of Bhârat" has its first scenes in Hastinapur, an
+ancient and vanished city, formerly situated about sixty miles
+north-east of the modern Delhi. The Ganges has washed away even the
+ruins of this the metropolis of King Bhârat's dominions. The poem
+opens with a "sacrifice of snakes," but this is a prelude, connected
+merely by a curious legend with the real beginning. That beginning is
+reached when the five sons of "King Pandu the Pale" and the five sons
+of "King Dhritarashtra the Blind," both of them descendants of Bhârat,
+are being brought up together in the palace. The first were called
+Pandavas, the last Kauravas, and their lifelong feud is the main
+subject of the epic. Yudhishthira, Bhíma, Arjuna, Nakula, and Sahadeva
+are the Pandava princes. Duryodhana is chief of the Kauravas. They
+are instructed by one master, Drona, a Brahman, in the arts of war and
+peace, and learn to manage and brand cattle, hunt wild animals, and
+tame horses. There is in the early portion a striking picture of an
+Aryan tournament, wherein the young cousins display their skill,
+"highly arrayed, amid vast crowds," and Arjuna especially
+distinguishes himself. Clad in golden mail, he shows amazing feats
+with sword and bow. He shoots twenty-one arrows into the hollow of a
+buffalo-horn while his chariot whirls along; he throws the "chakra,"
+or sharp quoit, without once missing his victim; and, after winning
+the prizes, kneels respectfully at the feet of his instructor to
+receive his crown. The cousins, after this, march out to fight with a
+neighbouring king, and the Pandavas, who are always the favoured
+family in the poem, win most of the credit, so that Yudhishthira is
+elected from among them _Yuvaraj_, or heir apparent. This incenses
+Duryodhana, who, by appealing to his father, Dhritarashtra, procures a
+division of the kingdom, the Pandavas being sent to Vacanavat, now
+Allahabad. All this part of the story refers obviously to the advances
+gradually made by the Aryan conquerors of India into the jungles
+peopled by aborigines. Forced to quit their new city, the Pandavas
+hear of the marvellous beauty of Draupadí, whose _Swayamvara_, or
+"choice of a suitor," is about to be celebrated at Kâmpilya. This
+again furnishes a strange and glittering picture of the old times;
+vast masses of holiday people, with rajahs, elephants, troops,
+jugglers, dancing-women, and showmen, are gathered in a gay encampment
+round the pavilion of the King Draupada, whose lovely daughter is to
+take for her husband (on the well-understood condition that she
+approves of him) the fortunate archer who can strike the eye of a
+golden fish, whirling round upon the top of a tall pole, with an arrow
+shot from an enormously strong bow. The princess, adorned with radiant
+gems, holds a garland of flowers in her hand for the victorious
+suitor; but none of the rajahs can bend the bow. Arjuna, disguised as
+a Brahman, performs the feat with ease, and his youth and grace win
+the heart of Draupadí more completely than his skill. The princess
+henceforth follows the fortunes of the brothers, and, by a strange
+ancient custom, lives with them in common. The Pandavas, now allied to
+the King Draupada and become strong, are so much dreaded by the
+Kauravas that they are invited back again, for safety's sake, to
+Hastinapura, and settle near it in the city of Indraprastha, now
+Delhi. The reign of Yudhishthira and his brothers is very prosperous
+there; "every subject was pious; there were no liars, thieves, or
+cheats; no droughts, floods, or locusts; no conflagrations nor
+invaders, nor parrots to eat up the grain."
+
+The Pandava king, having subdued all enemies, now performs the
+_Rajasuya_, or ceremony of supremacy,--and here again occur
+wonderfully interesting pictures. Duryodhana comes thither, and his
+jealousy is inflamed by the magnificence of the rite. Among other
+curious incidents is one which seems to show that glass was already
+known. A pavilion is paved with "black crystal," which the Kaurava
+prince mistakes for water, and "draws up his garments lest he should
+be wetted." But now approaches a turning-point in the epic. Furious at
+the wealth and fortune of his cousins, Duryodhana invites them to
+Hastinapura to join in a great gambling festival. The passion for play
+was as strong apparently with these antique Hindus as that for
+fighting or for love: "No true Kshatriya must ever decline a challenge
+to combat or to dice." The brothers go to the entertainment, which is
+to ruin their prosperity; for Sakuni, the most skilful and lucky
+gambler, has loaded the "coupun," so as to win every throw. Mr.
+Wheeler's excellent summary again says:--
+
+     "Then Yudhishthira and Sakuni sat down to play, and whatever
+     Yudhishthira laid as stakes Duryodhana laid something of
+     equal value; but Yudhishthira lost every game. He first lost
+     a very beautiful pearl; next a thousand bags each containing
+     a thousand pieces of gold; next a great piece of gold so
+     pure that it was as soft as wax; next a chariot set with
+     jewels and hung all round with golden bells; next a thousand
+     war-elephants with golden howdahs set with diamonds; next a
+     lakh of slaves all dressed in rich garments; next a lakh of
+     beautiful slave-girls, adorned from head to foot with golden
+     ornaments; next all the remainder of his goods; next all his
+     cattle; and then the whole of his Râj, excepting only the
+     lands which had been granted to the Brahmans."
+
+After this tremendous run of ill-luck, he madly stakes Draupadí the
+Beautiful, and loses her. The princess is dragged away by the hair,
+and Duryodhana mockingly bids her come and sit upon his knee, for
+which Bhíma the Pandava swears that he will some day break his
+thigh-bone,--a vow which is duly kept. But the blind old king rebukes
+this fierce elation of the winner, restores Draupadí, and declares
+that they must throw another main to decide who shall leave
+Hastinapura. The cheating Sakuni cogs the dice again, and the Pandavas
+must now go away into the forest, and let no man know them by name for
+thirteen years. They depart, Draupadí unbinding her long black hair,
+and vowing never to fasten it back again till the hands of Bhíma, the
+strong man among the Pandavas, are red with the punishment of the
+Kauravas. "Then he shall tie my tresses up again, when his fingers are
+dripping with Duhsasana's blood."
+
+There follow long episodes of their adventures in the jungle till the
+time when the Pandavas emerge, and, still disguised, take up their
+residence in King Viráta's city. Here the vicissitudes of Draupadí as
+a handmaid of the queen, of Bhíma as the palace wrestler, of Arjuna
+disguised as a eunuch, and of Nakula, Sahadeva, and Yudhishthira,
+acting as herdsmen and attendants, are most absorbing and dramatic.
+The virtue of Draupadí, assailed by a prince of the State, is terribly
+defended by the giant Bhíma; and when the Kauravas, suspecting the
+presence in the place of their cousins, attack Viráta, Arjuna drives
+the chariot of the heir apparent, and victoriously repulses them with
+his awful bow Gandiva.
+
+After all these evidences of prowess and the help afforded in the
+battle, the King of Viráta discovers the princely rank of the
+Pandavas, and gives his daughter in marriage to the son of Arjuna. A
+great council is then held to consider the question of declaring war
+on the Kauravas, at which the speeches are quite Homeric, the god
+Krishna taking part. The decision is to prepare for war, but to send
+an embassy first. Meantime Duryodhana and Arjuna engage in a singular
+contest to obtain the aid of Krishna, whom both of them seek out. This
+celestial hero is asleep when they arrive, and the proud Kaurava, as
+Lord of Indraprastha, sits down at his head; Arjuna, more reverently,
+takes a place at his feet. Krishna, awaking, offers to give his vast
+army to one of them, and himself as counsellor to the other; and
+Arjuna gladly allows Duryodhana to take the army, which turns out much
+the worse bargain. The embassy, meantime, is badly received; but it is
+determined to reply by a counter-message, while warlike preparations
+continue. There is a great deal of useless negotiation, against which
+Draupadí protests, like another Constance, saying, "War, war! no
+peace! Peace is to me a war!" Krishna consoles her with the words,
+"Weep not! the time has nearly come when the Kauravas will be slain,
+both great and small, and their wives will mourn as you have been
+mourning." The ferocity of the chief of the Kauravas prevails over the
+wise counsels of the blind old king and the warnings of Krishna, so
+that the fatal conflict must now begin upon the plain of Kurukshetra.
+
+All is henceforth martial and stormy in the "parvas" that ensue. The
+two enormous hosts march to the field, generalissimos are selected,
+and defiances of the most violent and abusive sort exchanged. Yet
+there are traces of a singular civilisation in the rules which the
+leaders draw up to be observed in the war. Thus, no stratagems are to
+be used; the fighting men are to fraternise, if they will, after each
+combat; none may slay the flier, the unarmed, the charioteer, or the
+beater of the drum; horsemen are not to attack footmen, and nobody is
+to fling a spear till the preliminary challenges are finished; nor may
+any third man interfere when two combatants are engaged. These curious
+regulations--which would certainly much embarrass Von Moltke--are,
+sooth to say, not very strictly observed, and, no doubt, were inserted
+at a later age in the body of the poem by its Brahman editors. Those
+same interpolaters have overloaded the account of the eighteen days of
+terrific battle which follow with many episodes and interruptions,
+some very eloquent and philosophic; indeed, the whole _Bhagavad-Gîta_
+comes in hereabouts as a religious interlude. Essays on laws, morals,
+and the sciences are grafted, with lavish indifference to the
+continuous flow of the narrative, upon its most important portions;
+but there is enough of solid and tremendous fighting, notwithstanding,
+to pale the crimson pages of the Greek Iliad itself. The field
+glitters, indeed, with kings and princes in panoply of gold and
+jewels, who engage in mighty and varied combats, till the earth swims
+in blood, and the heavens themselves are obscured with dust and flying
+weapons. One by one the Kaurava chiefs are slain, and Bhíma, the
+giant, at last meets in arms Duhsasana, the Kaurava prince who had
+dragged Draupadí by the hair. He strikes him down with the terrible
+mace of iron, after which he cuts off his head, and drinks of his
+blood, saying, "Never have I tasted a draught so delicious as this."
+So furious now becomes the war that even the just and mild Arjuna
+commits two breaches of Aryan chivalry,--killing an enemy while
+engaged with a third man, and shooting Karna dead while he is
+extricating his chariot-wheel and without a weapon. At last none are
+left of the chief Kauravas except Duryodhana, who retires from the
+field and hides in an island of the lake. The Pandavas find him out,
+and heap such reproaches on him that the surly warrior comes forth at
+length, and agrees to fight with Bhíma. The duel proves of a
+tremendous nature, and is decided by an act of treachery; for Arjuna,
+standing by, reminds Bhíma, by a gesture, of his oath to break the
+thigh of Duryodhana, because he had bidden Draupadí sit on his knee.
+The giant takes the hint, and strikes a foul blow, which cripples the
+Kaurava hero, and he falls helpless to earth. After this the Pandava
+princes are declared victorious, and Yudhishthira is proclaimed king.
+
+The great poem soon softens its martial music into a pathetic strain.
+The dead have to be burned, and the living reconciled to their new
+lords; while afterwards King Yudhishthira is installed in high state
+with "chámaras, golden umbrellas, elephants, and singing." He is
+enthroned facing towards the east, and touches rice, flowers, earth,
+gold, silver, and jewels, in token of owning all the products of his
+realm. Being thus firmly seated on his throne, with his cousins round
+him, the Rajah prepares to celebrate the most magnificent of ancient
+Hindu rites,--the _Aswamedha_, or Sacrifice of the Horse. It is
+difficult to raise the thoughts of a modern and Western public to the
+solemnity, majesty, and marvel of this antique Oriental rite, as
+viewed by Hindus. The monarch who was powerful enough to perform it
+chose a horse of pure white colour, "like the moon," with a saffron
+tail, and a black right ear; or the animal might be all black, without
+a speck of colour. This steed, wearing a gold plate on its forehead,
+with the royal name inscribed, was turned loose, and during a whole
+year the king's army was bound to follow its wanderings. Whithersoever
+it went, the ruler of the invaded territory must either pay homage to
+the king, and join him with his warriors, or accept battle; but
+whether conquered or peacefully submitting, all these princes must
+follow the horse, and at the end of the year assist at the sacrifice
+of the consecrated animal. Moreover, during the whole year the king
+must restrain all passion, live a perfectly purified life, and sleep
+on the bare ground. The white horse could not be loosened until the
+night of the full moon in _Chaitra_, which answers to the latter half
+of March and the first half of April,--in fact, at Easter-time; and it
+may be observed here that this is not the only strange coincidence in
+the sacrifice. It was thus an adventure of romantic conquest, mingled
+with deep religion and arrogant ostentation; and the entire
+description of the _Aswamedha_ would prove most interesting. The horse
+is found, is adorned with the golden plate, and turned loose,
+wandering into distant regions; where the army of Arjuna--for it was
+he who led Yudhishthira's forces--goes through twelve amazing
+adventures. They come, for instance, to a land of Amazons, all of
+wonderful beauty, wearing armour of pearls and gold, and equally fatal
+either to love or to fight with. These dazzling enemies, however,
+finally submit, as also the Rajah of the rich city of Babhruváhan,
+which possessed high walls of solid silver, and was lighted with
+precious jewels for lamps. The serpent people, in the same way, who
+live beneath the earth in the city of Vasuki, yield, after combat, to
+Arjuna. A thousand million semi-human snakemen dwelt there, with wives
+of consummate loveliness, possessing in their realm gems which would
+restore dead people to life, as well as a fountain of perpetual youth.
+Finally, Arjuna's host marches back in great glory, and with a vast
+train of vanquished monarchs, to the city of Hastinapura, where all
+the subject kings have audience of Yudhishthira, and the immense
+preparations begin for the sacrifice of the snow-white horse.
+
+After all these stately celebrations, it might be expected that the
+great poem would conclude with the established glories of the ancient
+dynasty. But if the martial part of the colossal epic is "Kshatriyan,"
+and the religious episodes "Brahmanic," the conclusion breathes the
+spirit of Buddhism. Yudhishthira sits grandly on the throne; but
+earthly greatness does not content the soul of man, nor can riches
+render weary hearts happy. A wonderful scene, which reads like a
+rebuke from the dead addressed to the living upon the madness of all
+war, occurs in this part of the poem. The Pandavas and the old King
+Dhritarashtra being together by the banks of the Ganges, the great
+saint Vyása undertakes to bring back to them all the departed, slain
+in their fratricidal conflict. The spectacle is at once terrible and
+tender.
+
+But this revealing of the invisible world deepens the discontent of
+the princes, and when the sage Vyása tells them that their prosperity
+is near its end, they determine to leave their kingdom to younger
+princes, and to set out with their faces towards Mount Meru, where is
+Indra's heaven. If, haply, they may reach it, there will be an end of
+this world's joys and sorrows, and "union with the Infinite" will be
+obtained. My translations from the Sanskrit of the two concluding
+parvas of the poem (of which the above is a swift summary) describe
+the "Last Journey" of the princes and their "Entry into Heaven;" and
+herein occurs one of the noblest religious apologues not only of this
+great Epic but of any creed,--a beautiful fable of faithful love
+which may be contrasted, to the advantage of the Hindu teaching, with
+any Scriptural representations of Death, and of Love, "which stronger
+is than Death." There is always something selfish in the anxiety of
+Orthodox people to save their own souls, and our best religious
+language is not free from that taint of pious egotism. The Parvas of
+the Mahábhárata which contain Yudhishthira's approach to Indra's
+paradise teach, on the contrary, that deeper and better lesson nobly
+enjoined by an American poet--
+
+    "The gate of heaven opens to none alone,
+    Save thou one soul, and it shall save thine own."
+
+These prefatory remarks seemed necessary to introduce the subjoined
+close paraphrase of the "Book of the Great Journey,"--and the "Book of
+the Entry into Heaven;" being the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Parvas of
+the noble but, as yet, almost unknown Mahábhárata.
+
+
+
+
+THE MAHAPRASTHÁNIKA PARVA OF THE MAHÁBHÁRATA.
+
+"THE GREAT JOURNEY."
+
+
+    _To Narayen, Lord of lords, be glory given,
+    To sweet Saraswati, the Queen in Heaven,
+    To great Vyása, eke, pay reverence due,
+    So shall this story its high course pursue._
+
+    Then Janmejaya prayed: "Thou Singer, say,
+    What wrought the princes of the Pandavas
+    On tidings of the battle so ensued,
+    And Krishna, gone on high?"
+
+                                 Answered the Sage:
+    "On tidings of the wreck of Vrishni's race,
+    King Yudhishthira of the Pandavas
+    Was minded to be done with earthly things,
+    And to Arjuna spake: 'O noble Prince,
+    Time endeth all; we linger, noose on neck,
+    Till the last day tightens the line, and kills.
+    Let us go forth to die, being yet alive,'
+    And Kunti's son, the great Arjuna, said:
+    'Let us go forth to die!--Time slayeth all;
+    We will find Death, who seeketh other men.'
+    And Bhimasena, hearing, answered: 'Yea!
+    We will find Death!' and Sahadev cried: 'Yea!'
+    And his twin brother Nakula: whereat
+    The princes set their faces for the Mount.
+
+    "But Yudhishthira--ere he left his realm,
+    To seek high ending--summoned Yuyutsu,
+    Surnamed of fights, and set him over all,
+    Regent, to rule in Parikshita's name
+    Nearest the throne; and Parikshita king
+    He crowned, and unto old Subhadra said:
+    'This, thy son's son, shall wear the Kuru crown,
+    And Yadu's offspring, Vajra, shall be first
+    In Yadu's house. Bring up the little prince
+    Here in our Hastinapur, but Vajra keep
+    At Indraprasth; and let it be thy last
+    Of virtuous works to guard the lads, and guide.'
+
+    "So ordering ere he went, the righteous king
+    Made offering of white water, heedfully,
+    To Vasudev, to Rama, and the rest,--
+    All funeral rites performing; next he spread
+    A funeral feast, whereat there sate as guests
+    Narada, Dwaipayana, Bharadwaj,
+    And Markandeya, rich in saintly years,
+    And Tajnavalkya, Hari, and the priests.
+    Those holy ones he fed with dainty meats
+    In kingliest wise, naming the name of Him
+    Who bears the bow: and--that it should be well
+    For him and his--gave to the Brahmanas
+    Jewels of gold and silver, lakhs on lakhs.
+    Fair broidered cloths, gardens and villages,
+    Chariots and steeds and slaves.
+
+                                 "Which being done,--
+    O Best of Bhârat's line!--he bowed him low
+    Before his Guru's feet,--at Kripa's feet,
+    That sage all honoured,--saying, 'Take my prince;
+    Teach Parikshita as thou taughtest me;
+    For hearken, ministers and men of war!
+    Fixed is my mind to quit all earthly state.'
+    Full sore of heart were they, and sore the folk
+    To hear such speech, and bitter spread the word
+    Through town and country, that the king would go;
+    And all the people cried, 'Stay with us, Lord!'
+    But Yudhishthira knew the time was come,
+    Knew that life passes and that virtue lasts,
+    And put aside their love.
+
+                                 "So--with farewells
+    Tenderly took of lieges and of lords--
+    Girt he for travel, with his princely kin,
+    Great Yudhishthira, Dharma's royal son.
+    Crest-gem and belt and ornaments he stripped
+    From off his body, and, for broidered robe
+    A rough dress donned, woven of jungle-bark;
+    And what he did--O Lord of men!--so did
+    Arjuna, Bhíma, and the twin-born pair,
+    Nakula with Sahadev, and she--in grace
+    The peerless--Draupadí. Lastly these six,
+    Thou son of Bhârata! in solemn form
+    Made the high sacrifice of Naishtiki,
+    Quenching their flames in water at the close;
+    And so set forth, 'midst wailing of all folk
+    And tears of women, weeping most to see
+    The Princess Draupadí--that lovely prize
+    Of the great gaming, Draupadí the Bright--
+    Journeying afoot; but she and all the Five
+    Rejoiced, because their way lay heavenwards.
+
+    "Seven were they, setting forth,--princess and king,
+    The king's four brothers, and a faithful dog.
+    Those left Hastinapur; but many a man,
+    And all the palace household, followed them
+    The first sad stage; and, ofttimes prayed to part,
+    Put parting off for love and pity, still
+    Sighing 'A little farther!'--till day waned;
+    Then one by one they turned, and Kripa said,
+    'Let all turn back, Yuyutsu! These must go.'
+    So came they homewards, but the Snake-King's child,
+    Ulùpi, leapt in Ganges, losing them;
+    And Chitranâgad with her people went
+    Mournful to Munipoor, whilst the three queens
+    Brought Parikshita in.
+
+                                 "Thus wended they,
+    Pandu's five sons and loveliest Draupadí,
+    Tasting no meat, and journeying due east;
+    On righteousness their high hearts bent, to heaven
+    Their souls assigned; and steadfast trode their feet,
+    By faith upborne, past nullah, ran, and wood,
+    River and jheel and plain. King Yudhishthir
+    Walked foremost, Bhíma followed, after him
+    Arjuna, and the twin-born brethren next,
+    Nakula with Sahadev; in whose still steps--
+    O Best of Bhârat's offspring!--Draupadí,
+    That gem of women, paced; with soft, dark face,--
+    Beautiful, wonderful!--and lustrous eyes,
+    Clear-lined like lotus-petals; last the dog,
+    Following the Pandavas.
+
+                                 "At length they reach
+    The far Lauchityan Sea, which foameth white
+    Under Udayachâla's ridge.--Know ye
+    That all this while Nakula had not ceased
+    Bearing the holy bow, named Gandiva,
+    And jewelled quiver, ever filled with shafts
+    Though one should shoot a thousand thousand times.
+    Here--broad across their path--the heroes see
+    Agni, the god. As though a mighty hill
+    Took form of front and breast and limb, he spake.
+    Seven streams of shining splendour rayed his brow,
+    While the dread voice said: 'I am Agni, chiefs!
+    O sons of Pandu, I am Agni! Hail!
+    O long-armed Yudhishthira, blameless king,--
+    O warlike Bhíma,--O Arjuna, wise,--
+    O brothers twin-born from a womb divine,--
+    Hear! I am Agni, who consumed the wood
+    By will of Narayan for Arjuna's sake.
+    Let this your brother give Gandiva back--
+    The matchless bow: the use for it is o'er.
+    That gem-ringed battle-discus which he whirled
+    Cometh again to Krishna in his hand
+    For avatars to be; and need is none
+    Henceforth of this most excellent bright bow,
+    Gandiva, which I brought for Partha's aid
+    From high Varuna. Let it be returned.
+    Cast it herein!'
+
+                      "And all the princes said,
+    'Cast it, dear brother!' So Arjuna threw
+    Into that sea the quiver ever-filled,
+    And glittering bow. Then led by Agni's light,
+    Unto the south they turned, and so south-west,
+    And afterwards right west, until they saw
+    Dwaraka, washed and bounded by a main
+    Loud-thundering on its shores; and here--O Best!--
+    Vanished the God; while yet those heroes walked,
+    Now to the north-west bending, where long coasts
+    Shut in the sea of salt, now to the north,
+    Accomplishing all quarters, journeyed they;
+    The earth their altar of high sacrifice,
+    Which these most patient feet did pace around
+    Till Meru rose.
+
+                      "At last it rose! These Six,
+    Their senses subjugate, their spirits pure,
+    Wending alone, came into sight--far off
+    In the eastern sky--of awful Himavan;
+    And, midway in the peaks of Himavan,
+    Meru, the Mountain of all mountains, rose,
+    Whose head is Heaven; and under Himavan
+    Glared a wide waste of sand, dreadful as death.
+
+    "Then, as they hastened o'er the deadly waste,
+    Aiming for Meru, having thoughts at soul
+    Infinite, eager,--lo! Draupadí reeled,
+    With faltering heart and feet; and Bhíma turned
+    Gazing upon her; and that hero spake
+    To Yudhishthira: 'Master, Brother, King
+    Why doth she fail? For never all her life
+    Wrought our sweet lady one thing wrong, I think.
+    Thou knowest, make us know, why hath she failed?'
+
+    "Then Yudhishthira answered: 'Yea, one thing.
+    She loved our brother better than all else,--
+    Better than heaven: that was her tender sin,
+    Fault of a faultless soul; she pays for that'
+    'So spake the monarch, turning not his eyes,
+    Though Draupadí lay dead--striding straight on
+    For Meru, heart-full of the things of heaven,
+    Perfect and firm. But yet a little space,
+    And Sahadev fell down, which Bhíma seeing,
+    Cried once again: 'O King, great Madri's son
+    Stumbles and sinks. Why hath he sunk?--so true,
+    So brave and steadfast, and so free from pride!'
+
+    "'He was not free,' with countenance still fixed,
+    Quoth Yudhishthira; 'he was true and fast
+    And wise, yet wisdom made him proud; he hid
+    One little hurt of soul, but now it kills.'
+
+    "So saying, he strode on--Kunti's strong son--
+    And Bhíma, and Arjuna followed him,
+    And Nakula, and the hound; leaving behind
+    Sahadev in the sands. But Nakula,
+    Weakened and grieved to see Sahadev fall--
+    His loved twin-brother--lagged and stayed; and next
+    Prone on his face he fell, that noble face
+    Which had no match for beauty in the land,--
+    Glorious and godlike Nakula! Then sighed
+    Bhíma anew: 'Brother and Lord! the man
+    Who never erred from virtue, never broke
+    Our fellowship, and never in the world
+    Was matched for goodly perfectness of form
+    Or gracious feature,--Nakula has fallen!'
+
+    "But Yudhishthira, holding fixed his eyes,--
+    That changeless, faithful, all-wise king,--replied:
+    'Yea, but he erred. The godlike form he wore
+    Beguiled him to believe none like to him,
+    And he alone desirable, and things
+    Unlovely to be slighted. Self-love slays
+    Our noble brother. Bhíma, follow! Each
+    Pays what his debt was.'
+
+                          "Which Arjuna heard,
+    Weeping to see them fall; and that stout son
+    Of Pandu, that destroyer of his foes,
+    That prince, who drove through crimson waves of war,
+    In old days, with his chariot-steeds of milk,
+    He, the arch-hero, sank! Beholding this,--
+    The yielding of that soul unconquerable,
+    Fearless, divine, from Sákra's self derived,
+    Arjuna's,--Bhíma cried aloud: 'O king!
+    This man was surely perfect. Never once,
+    Not even in slumber when the lips are loosed,
+    Spake he one word that was not true as truth.
+    Ah, heart of gold, why art thou broke? O King!
+    Whence falleth he?'
+
+                          "And Yudhishthira said,
+    Not pausing: 'Once he lied, a lordly lie!
+    He bragged--our brother--that a single day
+    Should see him utterly consume, alone,
+    All those his enemies,--which could not be.
+    Yet from a great heart sprang the unmeasured speech.
+    Howbeit, a finished hero should not shame
+    Himself in such wise, nor his enemy,
+    If he will faultless fight and blameless die:
+    This was Arjuna's sin. Follow thou me!'
+
+    "So the king still went on. But Bhíma next
+    Fainted, and stayed upon the way, and sank;
+    Yet, sinking cried, behind the steadfast prince:
+    'Ah, brother, see! I die! Look upon me,
+    Thy well-beloved! Wherefore falter I,
+    Who strove to stand?'
+
+                          "And Yudhishthira said:
+    'More than was well the goodly things of earth
+    Pleased thee, my pleasant brother! Light the offence,
+    And large thy virtue; but the o'er-fed flesh
+    Plumed itself over spirit. Pritha's son,
+    For this thou failest, who so near didst gain.'
+
+    "Thenceforth alone the long-armed monarch strode,
+    Not looking back,--nay! not for Bhíma's sake,--
+    But walking with his face set for the Mount:
+    And the hound followed him,--only the hound.
+
+    "After the deathly sands, the Mount! and lo!
+    Sákra shone forth,--the God, filling the earth
+    And heavens with thunder of his chariot-wheels.
+    'Ascend,' he said, 'with me, Pritha's great son!'
+    But Yudhishthira answered, sore at heart
+    For those his kinsfolk, fallen on the way:
+    'O Thousand-eyed, O Lord of all the Gods,
+    Give that my brothers come with me, who fell!
+    Not without them is Swarga sweet to me.
+    She too, the dear and kind and queenly,--she
+    Whose perfect virtue Paradise must crown,--
+    Grant her to come with us! Dost thou grant this?'
+
+    "The God replied: 'In heaven thou shalt see
+    Thy kinsmen and the queen--these will attain--
+    With Krishna. Grieve no longer for thy dead,
+    Thou chief of men! their mortal covering stripped,
+    They have their places; but to thee the gods
+    Allot an unknown grace: thou shalt go up
+    Living and in thy form to the immortal homes.'
+
+    "But the king answered: 'O thou Wisest One,
+    Who know'st what was, and is, and is to be,
+    Still one more grace! This hound hath ate with me,
+    Followed me, loved me: must I leave him now?'
+
+    "'Monarch,' spake Indra, 'thou art now as We,--
+    Deathless, divine; thou art become a god;
+    Glory and power and gifts celestial,
+    And all the joys of heaven are thine for aye:
+    What hath a beast with these? Leave here thy hound.'
+
+    "Yet Yudhishthira answered: 'O Most High,
+    O Thousand-eyed and Wisest! can it be
+    That one exalted should seem pitiless?
+    Nay, let me lose such glory: for its sake
+    I would not leave one living thing I loved.'
+
+    "Then sternly Indra spake: 'He is unclean,
+    And into Swarga such shall enter not.
+    The Krodhavasha's hand destroys the fruits
+    Of sacrifice, if dogs defile the fire.
+    Bethink thee, Dharmaraj, quit now this beast!
+    That which is seemly is not hard of heart.'
+
+    "Still he replied: ''Tis written that to spurn
+    A suppliant equals in offence to slay
+    A twice-born; wherefore, not for Swarga's bliss
+    Quit I, Mahendra, this poor clinging dog,--
+    So without any hope or friend save me,
+    So wistful, fawning for my faithfulness,
+    So agonized to die, unless I help
+    Who among men was called steadfast and just.'
+
+    "Quoth Indra: 'Nay! the altar-flame is foul
+    Where a dog passeth; angry angels sweep
+    The ascending smoke aside, and all the fruits
+    Of offering, and the merit of the prayer
+    Of him whom a hound toucheth. Leave it here!
+    He that will enter heaven must enter pure.
+    Why didst thou quit thy brethren on the way,
+    Quit Krishna, quit the dear-loved Draupadí,
+    Attaining, firm and glorious, to this Mount
+    Through perfect deeds, to linger for a brute?
+    Hath Yudhishthira vanquished self, to melt
+    With one poor passion at the door of bliss?
+    Stay'st thou for this, who didst not stay for them,--
+    Draupadí, Bhíma?'
+
+                          "But the king yet spake:
+    ''Tis known that none can hurt or help the dead.
+    They, the delightful ones, who sank and died,
+    Following my footsteps, could not live again
+    Though I had turned,--therefore I did not turn;
+    But could help profit, I had turned to help.
+    There be four sins, O Sákra, grievous sins:
+    The first is making suppliants despair,
+    The second is to slay a nursing wife,
+    The third is spoiling Brahmans' goods by force,
+    The fourth is injuring an ancient friend.
+    These four I deem not direr than the sin,
+    If one, in coming forth from woe to weal,
+    Abandon any meanest comrade then.'
+
+    "Straight as he spake, brightly great Indra smiled;
+    Vanished the hound;--and in its stead stood there
+    The Lord of Death and Justice, Dharma's self!
+    Sweet were the words which fell from those dread lips,
+    Precious the lovely praise: 'O thou true king,
+    Thou that dost bring to harvest the good seed
+    Of Pandu's righteousness; thou that hast ruth
+    As he before, on all which lives!--O Son,
+    I tried thee in the Dwaita wood, what time
+    The Yaksha smote them, bringing water; then
+    Thou prayedst for Nakula's life--tender and just--
+    Not Bhíma's nor Arjuna's, true to both,
+    To Madrî as to Kuntî, to both queens.
+    Hear thou my word! Because thou didst not mount
+    This car divine, lest the poor hound be shent
+    Who looked to thee, lo! there is none in heaven
+    Shall sit above thee, King!--Bhârata's son,
+    Enter thou now to the eternal joys,
+    Living and in thy form. Justice and Love
+    Welcome thee, Monarch! thou shalt throne with us!'
+
+    "Thereat those mightiest Gods, in glorious train,
+    Mahendra, Dharma,--with bright retinue
+    Of Maruts, Saints, Aswin-Kumãras, Nats,
+    Spirits and Angels,--bore the king aloft,
+    The thundering chariot first, and after it
+    Those airy-moving Presences. Serene,
+    Clad in great glory, potent, wonderful,
+    They glide at will,--at will they know and see,
+    At wish their wills are wrought; for these are pure,
+    Passionless, hallowed, perfect, free of earth,
+    In such celestial midst the Pandu king
+    Soared upward; and a sweet light filled the sky
+    And fell on earth, cast by his face and form,
+    Transfigured as he rose; and there was heard
+    The voice of Narad,--it is he who sings,
+    Sitting in heaven, the deeds that good men do
+    In all the quarters,--Narad, chief of bards,
+    Narad the wise, who laudeth purity,--
+    So cried he: 'Thou art risen, unmatched king,
+    Whose greatness is above all royal saints.
+    Hail, son of Pandu! like to thee is none
+    Now or before among the sons of men,
+    Whose fame hath filled the three wide worlds, who com'st
+    Bearing thy mortal body, which doth shine
+    With radiance as a god's.'
+
+                          "The glad king heard
+    Narad's loud praise; he saw the immortal gods,--
+    Dharma, Mahendra; and dead chiefs and saints,
+    Known upon earth, in blessed heaven he saw;
+    But only those. 'I do desire,' he said,
+    'That region, be it of the Blest as this,
+    Or of the Sorrowful some otherwhere,
+    Where my dear brothers are, and Draupadí.
+    I cannot stay elsewhere! I see them not!'
+
+    "Then answer made Purandará, the God:
+    'O thou compassionate and noblest One,
+    Rest in the pleasures which thy deeds have gained.
+    How, being as are the Gods, canst thou live bound
+    By mortal chains? Thou art become of Us,
+    Who live above hatred and love, in bliss
+    Pinnacled, safe, supreme. Sun of thy race.
+    Thy brothers cannot reach where thou hast climbed:
+    Most glorious lord of men, let not thy peace
+    Be touched by stir of earth! Look! this is Heaven.
+    See where the saints sit, and the happy souls,
+    Siddhas and angels, and the gods who live
+    For ever and for ever.'
+
+                          "'King of gods,'
+    Spake Yudhishthira, 'but I will not live
+    A little space without those souls I loved.
+    O Slayer of the demons! let me go
+    Where Bhíma and my brothers are, and she,
+    My Draupadí, the princess with the face
+    Softer and darker than the Vrihat-leaf,
+    And soul as sweet as are its odours. Lo!
+    Where they have gone, there will I surely go,'"
+
+
+
+
+_THE ILIAD OF INDIA._
+
+THE SWARGAROHANA PARVA OF THE MAHÁBHARATA; OR, "THE ENTRY INTO
+HEAVEN."
+
+
+    _To Narayen, Lord of lords, be glory given,
+    To Queen Saraswati be praise in heaven;
+    Unto Vyâsa pay the reverence due,--
+    So may this story its high course pursue._
+
+    Then Janmejaya said: "I am fain to learn
+    How it befell with my great forefathers,
+    The Pandu chiefs and Dhritarashtra's sons,
+    Being to heaven ascended. If thou know'st,--
+    And thou know'st all, whom wise Vyâsa taught--
+    Tell me, how fared it with those mighty souls?"
+
+    Answered the Sage: "Hear of thy forefathers--
+    Great Yudhishthira and the Pandu lords--
+    How it befell. When thus the blameless king
+    Was entered into heaven, there he beheld
+    Duryodhana, his foe, throned as a god
+    Amid the gods; splendidly sate that prince,
+    Peaceful and proud, the radiance of his brows
+    Far-shining like the sun's; and round him thronged
+    Spirits of light, with Sádhyas,--companies
+    Goodly to see. But when the king beheld
+    Duryodhana in bliss, and not his own,--
+    Not Draupadí, nor Bhíma, nor the rest,--
+    With quick-averted face and angry eyes
+    The monarch spake: 'Keep heaven for such as these
+    If these come here! I do not wish to dwell
+    Where he is, whom I hated rightfully,
+    Being a covetous and witless prince,
+    Whose deed it was that in wild fields of war
+    Brothers and friends by mutual slaughter fell,
+    While our swords smote, sharpened so wrathfully
+    By all those wrongs borne wandering in the woods:
+    But Draupadí's the deepest wrong, for he--
+    He who sits there--haled her before the court,
+    Seizing that sweet and virtuous lady--he!--
+    With grievous hand wound in her tresses. Gods,
+    I cannot look upon him! Sith 'tis so,
+    Where are my brothers? Thither will I go!'
+
+    "Smiling, bright Narada, the Sage, replied:
+    'Speak thou not rashly! Say not this, O King!
+    Those who come here lay enmities aside.
+    O Yudhishthira, long-armed monarch, hear!
+    Duryodhana is cleansed of sin; he sits
+    Worshipful as the saints, worshipped by saints
+    And kings who lived and died in virtue's path,
+    Attaining to the joys which heroes gain
+    Who yield their breath in battle. Even so
+    He that did wrong thee, knowing not thy worth,
+    Hath won before thee hither, raised to bliss
+    For lordliness, and valour free of fear.
+    Ah, well-beloved Prince! ponder thou not
+    The memory of that gaming, nor the griefs
+    Of Draupadí, nor any vanished hurt
+    Wrought in the passing shows of life by craft
+    Or wasteful war. Throne happy at the side
+    Of this thy happy foeman,--wiser now;
+    For here is Paradise, thou chief of men!
+    And in its holy air hatreds are dead.'
+
+    "Thus by such lips addressed the Pandu king
+    Answered uncomforted: 'Duryodhana,
+    If he attains, attains; yet not the less
+    Evil he lived and ill he died,--a heart
+    Impious and harmful, bringing woes to all,
+    To friends and foes. His was the crime which cost
+    Our land its warriors, horses, elephants;
+    His the black sin that set us in the field,
+    Burning for rightful vengeance. Ye are gods,
+    And just; and ye have granted heaven to him.
+    Show me the regions, therefore, where they dwell,
+    My brothers, those, the noble-souled, the loyal,
+    Who kept the sacred laws, who swerved no step
+    From virtue's path, who spake the truth, and lived
+    Foremost of warriors. Where is Kunti's son,
+    The hero-hearted Karna? Where are gone
+    Sátyaki, Dhrishtadyumna, with their sons?
+    And where those famous chiefs who fought for me.
+    Dying a splendid death? I see them not.
+    O Narada, I see them not! No King
+    Draupada! no Viráta! no glad face
+    Of Dhrisktaketu! no Shikandina,
+    Prince of Panchála, nor his princely boys!
+    Nor Abhimanyu the unconquerable!
+    President Gods of heaven! I see not here
+    Radha's bright son, nor Yudhamanyu,
+    Nor Uttamanjaso, his brother dear!
+    Where are those noble Maharashtra lords,
+    Rajahs and rajpoots, slain for love of me?
+    Dwell they in glory elsewhere, not yet seen?
+    If they be here, high Gods! and those with them
+    For whose sweet sakes I lived, here will I live,
+    Meek-hearted; but if such be not adjudged
+    Worthy, I am not worthy, nor my soul
+    Willing to rest without them. Ah, I burn,
+    Now in glad heaven, with grief, bethinking me
+    Of those my mother's words, what time I poured
+    Death-water for my dead at Kurkshetra,--
+    "Pour for Prince Karna, Son!" but I wist not
+    His feet were as my mother's feet, his blood
+    Her blood, my blood. O Gods! I did not know,--
+    Albeit Sákra's self had failed to break
+    Our battle, where _he_ stood. I crave to see
+    Surya's child, that glorious chief who fell
+    By Saryasáchi's hand, unknown of me;
+    And Bhíma! ah, my Bhíma! dearer far
+    Than life to me; Arjuna, like a god,
+    Nakla and Sahadev, twin lords of war,
+    With tenderest Draupadí! Show me those souls!
+    I cannot tarry where I have them not.
+    Bliss is not blissful, just and mighty Ones!
+    Save if I rest beside them. Heaven is there
+    Where Love and Faith make heaven. Let me go!'
+
+    "And answer made the hearkening heavenly Ones:
+    'Go, if it seemeth good to thee, dear Son!
+    The King of gods commands we do thy will.'"
+
+    So saying [the Bard went on] Dharma's own voice
+    Gave ordinance, and from the shining bands
+    A golden Deva glided, taking hest
+    To guide the king there where his kinsmen were.
+    So wended these, the holy angel first,
+    And in his steps the king, close following.
+    Together passed they through the gates of pearl,
+    Together heard them close; then to the left
+    Descending, by a path evil and dark,
+    Hard to be traversed, rugged, entered they
+    The 'SINNERS' ROAD.' The tread of sinful feet
+    Matted the thick thorns carpeting its slope;
+    The smell of sin hung foul on them; the mire
+    About their roots was trampled filth of flesh
+    Horrid with rottenness, and splashed with gore
+    Curdling in crimson puddles; where there buzzed
+    And sucked and settled creatures of the swamp,
+    Hideous in wing and sting, gnat-clouds and flies,
+    With moths, toads, newts, and snakes red-gulleted,
+    And livid, loathsome worms, writhing in slime
+    Forth from skull-holes and scalps and tumbled bones.
+    A burning forest shut the roadside in
+    On either hand, and 'mid its crackling boughs
+    Perched ghastly birds, or flapped amongst the flames,--
+    Vultures and kites and crows,--with brazen plumes
+    And beaks of iron; and these grisly fowl
+    Screamed to the shrieks of Prets, lean, famished ghosts,
+    Featureless, eyeless, having pin-point mouths,
+    Hungering, but hard to fill,--all swooping down
+    To gorge upon the meat of wicked ones;
+    Whereof the limbs disparted, trunks and heads,
+    Offal and marrow, littered all the way.
+    By such a path the king passed, sore afeared
+    If he had known of fear, for the air stank
+    With carrion stench, sickly to breathe; and lo!
+    Presently 'thwart the pathway foamed a flood
+    Of boiling waves, rolling down corpses. This
+    They crossed, and then the Asipatra wood
+    Spread black in sight, whereof the undergrowth
+    Was sword-blades, spitting, every blade, some wretch;
+    All around poison trees; and next to this,
+    Strewn deep with fiery sands, an awful waste,
+    Wherethrough the wicked toiled with blistering feet,
+    'Midst rocks of brass, red hot, which scorched, and pools
+    Of bubbling pitch that gulfed them. Last the gorge
+    Of Kutashála Mali,--frightful gate
+    Of utmost Hell, with utmost horrors filled.
+    Deadly and nameless were the plagues seen there;
+    Which when the monarch reached, nigh overborne
+    By terrors and the reek of tortured flesh,
+    Unto the angel spake he: 'Whither goes
+    This hateful road, and where be they I seek,
+    Yet find not?' Answer made the heavenly One:
+    'Hither, great King, it was commanded me
+    To bring thy steps. If thou be'st overborne,
+    It is commanded that I lead thee back
+    To where the Gods wait. Wilt thou turn and mount?'
+
+    "Then (O thou Son of Bhárat!) Yudhishthir
+    Turned heavenward his face, so was he moved
+    With horror and the hanging stench, and spent
+    By toil of that black travel. But his feet
+    Scarce one stride measured, when about the place
+    Pitiful accents rang: 'Alas, sweet King!--
+    Ah, saintly Lord!--Ah, Thou that hast attained
+    Place with the Blessed, Pandu's offspring!--pause
+    A little while, for love of us who cry!
+    Nought can harm _thee_ in all this baneful place;
+    But at thy coming there 'gan blow a breeze
+    Balmy and soothing, bringing us relief.
+    O Pritha's son, mightiest of men! we breathe
+    Glad breath again to see thee; we have peace
+    One moment in our agonies. Stay here
+    One moment more, Bhárata's child! Go not,
+    Thou Victor of the Kurus! Being here,
+    Hell softens and our bitter pains relax.'
+
+    "These pleadings, wailing all around the place,
+    Heard the King Yudhishthira,--words of woe
+    Humble and eager; and compassion seized
+    His lordly mind. 'Poor souls unknown!' he sighed,
+    And hellwards turned anew; for what those were.
+    Whence such beseeching voices, and of whom,
+    That son of Pandu wist not,--only wist
+    That all the noxious murk was filled with forms,
+    Shadowy, in anguish, crying grace of him.
+    Wherefore he called aloud,'Who speaks with me?
+    What do ye here, and what things suffer ye?'
+    Then from the black depth piteously there came
+    Answers of whispered suffering: 'Karna I,
+    O King!' and yet another,'O my Liege,
+    Thy Bhíma speaks!' and then a voice again,
+    'I am Arjuna, Brother!' and again,
+    'Nakla is here and Sahadev!' and last
+    A moan of music from the darkness sighed,
+    'Draupadí cries to thee!' Thereat broke forth
+    The monarch's spirit,--knowing so the sound
+    Of each familiar voice,--'What doom is this?
+    What have my well-beloved wrought to earn
+    Death with the damned, or life loathlier than death
+    In Narak's midst? Hath Karna erred so deep,
+    Bhíma, Arjuna, or the glorious twins,
+    Or she, the slender-waisted, sweetest, best,
+    My princess,--that Duryodhana should sit
+    Peaceful in Paradise with all his crew,
+    Throned by Mahendra and the shining gods?
+    How should these fail of bliss, and he attain?
+    What were their sins to his, their splendid faults?
+    For if they slipped, it was in virtue's way
+    Serving good laws, performing holy rites,
+    Boundless in gifts and faithful to the death.
+    These be their well-known voices! Are ye here,
+    Souls I loved best? Dream I, belike, asleep,
+    Or rave I, maddened with accursed sights
+    And death-reeks of this hellish air?'
+
+                                     "Thereat
+    For pity and for pain the king waxed wroth.
+    That soul fear could not shake, nor trials tire,
+    Burned terrible with tenderness, the while
+    His eyes searched all the gloom, his planted feet
+    Stood fast in the mid horrors. Well-nigh, then,
+    He cursed the gods; well-nigh that steadfast mind
+    Broke from its faith in virtue. But he stayed
+    Th' indignant passion, softly speaking this
+    Unto the angel: 'Go to those thou serv'st;
+    Tell them I come not thither. Say I stand
+    Here in the throat of hell, and here will bide--
+    Nay, if I perish--while my well-belov'd
+    Win ease and peace by any pains of mine.'
+
+    "Whereupon, nought replied the shining One,
+    But straight repaired unto the upper light,
+    Where Sákra sate above the gods, and spake
+    Before the gods the message of the king."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Afterward what befell?" the prince inquired.
+
+    "Afterward, Princely One!" replied the Sage,
+    "At hearing and at knowing that high deed
+    (Great Yudhishthira braving hell for love),
+    The Presences of Paradise uprose,
+    Each Splendour in his place,--god Sákra chief;
+    Together rose they, and together stepped
+    Down from their thrones, treading the nether road
+    Where Yudhishthira tarried. Sákra led
+    The shining van, and Dharma, Lord of laws,
+    Paced glorious next. O Son of Bhárata,
+    While that celestial company came down--
+    Pure as the white stars sweeping through the sky,
+    And brighter than their brilliance--look! Hell's shades
+    Melted before them; warm gleams drowned the gloom;
+    Soft, lovely scenes rolled over the ill sights;
+    Peace calmed the cries of torment; in its bed
+    The boiling river shrank, quiet and clear;
+    The Asipatra Vana--awful wood--
+    Blossomed with colours; all those cruel blades,
+    And dreadful rocks, and piteous scattered wreck
+    Of writhing bodies, where the king had passed,
+    Vanished as dreams fade. Cool and fragrant went
+    A wind before their faces, as these Gods
+    Drew radiant to the presence of the king,--
+    Maruts; and Vasus eight, who shine and serve
+    Round Indra; Rudras; Aswins; and those Six
+    Immortal Lords of light beyond our light,
+    Th' Adityas; Saddhyas; Siddhas,--those were there,
+    With angels, saints, and habitants of heaven,
+    Smiling resplendent round the steadfast prince.
+
+    "Then spake the God of gods these gracious words
+    To Yudhishthira, standing in that place:--
+    "'King Yudhishthira! O thou long-armed Lord,
+    This is enough! All heaven is glad of thee.
+    It is enough! Come, thou most blessed one.
+    Unto thy peace, well-gained. Lay now aside
+    Thy loving wrath, and hear the speech of Heaven.
+    It is appointed that all kings see hell.
+    The reckonings for the life of men are twain:
+    Of each man's righteous deeds a tally true,
+    A tally true of each man's evil deeds.
+    Who hath wrought little right, to him is paid
+    A little bliss in Swarga, then the woe
+    Which purges; who much right hath wrought, from him
+    The little ill by lighter pains is cleansed,
+    And then the joys. Sweet is peace after pain,
+    And bitter pain which follows peace; yet they,
+    Who sorely sin, taste of the heaven they miss,
+    And they that suffer quit their debt at last.
+    Lo! We have loved thee, laying hard on thee
+    Grievous assaults of soul, and this black road.
+    Bethink thee: by a semblance once, dear Son!
+    Drona thou didst beguile; and once, dear Son!
+    Semblance of hell hath so thy sin assoiled,
+    "Which passeth with these shadows. Even thus
+    Thy Bhíma came a little space t' account,
+    Draupadí, Krishna,--all whom thou didst love,
+    Never again to lose! Come, First of Men!
+    These be delivered and their quittance made.
+    Also the princes, son of Bhárata!
+    Who fell beside thee fighting, have attained.
+    Come thou to see! Karna, whom thou didst mourn,--
+    That mightiest archer, master in all wars,--
+    He hath attained, shining as doth the sun;
+    Come thou and see! Grieve no more, King of Men!
+    Whose love helped them and thee, and hath its meed.
+    Rajas and maharajahs, warriors, aids,--
+    All thine are thine for ever. Krishna waits
+    To greet thee coming, 'companied by gods,
+    Seated in heaven, from toils and conflicts saved.
+    Son! there is golden fruit of noble deeds,
+    Of prayer, alms, sacrifice. The most just Gods
+    Keep thee thy place above the highest saints,
+    Where thou shalt sit, divine, compassed about
+    With royal souls in bliss, as Hari sits;
+    Seeing Mándháta crowned, and Bhagirath,
+    Daushyanti, Bhárata, with all thy line.
+    Now therefore wash thee in this holy stream,
+    Gunga's pure fount, whereof the bright waves bless
+    All the Three Worlds. It will so change thy flesh
+    To likeness of th' immortal, thou shalt leave
+    Passions and aches and tears behind thee there.'
+
+    "And when the awful Sákra thus had said,
+    Lo! Dharma spake,--th' embodied Lord of Right:
+
+    "'Bho! bho! I am well pleased! Hail to thee, Chief!
+    Worthy, and wise, and firm. Thy faith is full,
+    Thy virtue, and thy patience, and thy truth,
+    And thy self-mastery. Thrice I put thee, King!
+    Unto the trial. In the Dwaita wood,
+    The day of sacrifice,--then thou stood'st fast;
+    Next, on thy brethren's death and Draupadí's,
+    When, as a dog, I followed thee, and found
+    Thy spirit constant to the meanest friend.
+    Here was the third and sorest touchstone, Son!
+    That thou shouldst hear thy brothers cry in hell,
+    And yet abide to help them. Pritha's child,
+    We love thee! Thou art fortunate and pure,
+    Past trials now. Thou art approved, and they
+    Thou lov'st have tasted hell only a space,
+    Not meriting to suffer more than when
+    An evil dream doth come, and Indra's beam
+    Ends it with radiance--as this vision ends.
+    It is appointed that all flesh see death,
+    And therefore thou hast borne the passing pangs,
+    Briefest for thee, and brief for those of thine,--
+    Bhíma the faithful, and the valiant twins
+    Nakla and Sahadev, and those great hearts
+    Karna, Arjuna, with thy princess dear,
+    Draupadí. Come, thou best-belovèd Son,
+    Blessed of all thy line! Bathe in this stream,--
+    It is great Gunga, flowing through Three Worlds.'
+
+    "Thus high-accosted, the rejoicing king
+    (Thy ancestor, O Liege!) proceeded straight
+    Unto that river's brink, which floweth pure
+    Through the Three Worlds, mighty, and sweet, and praised.
+    There, being bathed, the body of the king
+    Put off its mortal, coming up arrayed
+    In grace celestial, washed from soils of sin,
+    From passion, pain, and change. So, hand in hand
+    With brother-gods, glorious went Yudhishthir,
+    Lauded by softest minstrelsy, and songs
+    Of unknown music, where those heroes stood--
+    The princes of the Pandavas, his kin--
+    And lotus-eyed and lovliest Draupadí,
+    Waiting to greet him, gladdening and glad."
+
+
+
+
+_FROM THE "SAUPTIKA PARVA" OF THE MAHÁBHÁRATA,_
+
+OR
+
+_"NIGHT OF SLAUGHTER."_
+
+
+    _To Narayen, Best of Lords, be glory given,
+    To great Saraswati, the Queen in Heaven;
+    Unto Vyása, too, be paid his meed,
+    So shall this story worthily proceed._
+
+    "Those vanquished warriors then," Sanjaya said,
+    "Fled southwards; and, near sunset, past the tents,
+    Unyoked; abiding close in fear and rage.
+    There was a wood beyond the camp,--untrod,
+    Quiet,--and in its leafy harbour lay
+    The Princes, some among them bleeding still
+    From spear and arrow-gashes; all sore-spent,
+    Fetching faint breath, and fighting o'er again
+    In thought that battle. But there came the noise
+    Of Pandavas pursuing,--fierce and loud
+    Outcries of victory--whereat those chiefs
+    Sullenly rose, and yoked their steeds again,
+    Driving due east; and eastward still they drave
+    Under the night, till drouth and desperate toil
+    Stayed horse and man; then took they lair again,
+    The panting horses, and the Warriors, wroth
+    With chilled wounds, and the death-stroke of their King.
+
+    "Now were they come, my Prince," Sanjaya said,
+    "Unto a jungle thick with stems, whereon
+    The tangled creepers coiled; here entered they--
+    Watering their horses at a stream--and pushed
+    Deep in the thicket. Many a beast and bird
+    Sprang startled at their feet; the long grass stirred
+    With serpents creeping off; the woodland flowers
+    Shook where the pea-fowl hid, and, where frogs plunged,
+    The swamp rocked all its reeds and lotus-buds.
+    A banian-tree, with countless dropping boughs
+    Earth-rooted, spied they, and beneath its aisles
+    A pool; hereby they stayed, tethering their steeds,
+    And dipping water, made the evening prayer.
+
+    "But when the 'Day-maker' sank in the west
+    And Night descended--gentle, soothing Night,
+    Who comforts all, with silver splendour decked
+    Of stars and constellations, and soft folds
+    Of velvet darkness drawn--then those wild things
+    Which roam in darkness woke, wandering afoot
+    Under the gloom. Horrid the forest grew
+    With roar, and yelp, and yell, around that place
+    Where Kripa, Kritavarman, and the son
+    Of Drona lay, beneath the banian-tree;
+    Full many a piteous passage instancing
+    In their lost battle-day of dreadful blood;
+    Till sleep fell heavy on the wearied lids
+    Of Bhoja's child and Kripa. Then these Lords--
+    To princely life and silken couches used--
+    Sought on the bare earth slumber, spent and sad,
+    As houseless outcasts lodge.
+
+                              "But, Oh, my King!
+    There came no sleep to Drona's angry son,
+    Great Aswatthâman. As a snake lies coiled
+    And hisses, breathing, so his panting breath
+    Hissed rage and hatred round him, while he lay,
+    Chin uppermost, arm-pillowed, with fierce eyes
+    Roving the wood, and seeing sightlessly.
+    Thus chanced it that his wandering glances turned
+    Into the fig-tree's shadows, where there perched
+    A thousand crows, thick-roosting, on its limbs;
+    Some nested, some on branchlets, deep asleep,
+    Heads under wings--all fearless; nor, O Prince!
+    Had Aswatthâman more than marked the birds,
+    When, lo! there fell out of the velvet night,
+    Silent and terrible, an eagle-owl,
+    With wide, soft, deadly, dusky wings, and eyes
+    Flame-coloured, and long claws, and dreadful beak;
+    Like a winged sprite, or great Garood himself;
+    Offspring of Bhârata! it lighted there
+    Upon the banian's bough; hooted, but low,
+    The fury smothering in its throat;--then fell
+    With murderous beak and claws upon those crows,
+    Rending the wings from this, the legs from that,
+    From some the heads, of some ripping the crops;
+    Till, tens and scores, the fowl rained down to earth
+    Bloody and plucked, and all the ground waxed black
+    With piled crow-carcases; whilst the great owl
+    Hooted for joy of vengeance, and again
+    Spread the wide, deadly, dusky wings.
+
+                                        "Up sprang
+    The son of Drona: 'Lo! this owl,' quoth he,
+    'Teacheth me wisdom; lo! one slayeth so
+    Insolent foes asleep. The Pandu Lords
+    Are all too strong in arms by day to kill;
+    They triumph, being many. Yet I swore
+    Before the King, my Father, I would "kill"
+    And "kill"--even as a foolish fly should swear
+    To quench a flame. It scorched, and I shall die
+    If I dare open battle; but by art
+    Men vanquish fortune and the mightiest odds.
+    If there be two ways to a wise man's wish,
+    Yet only one way sure, he taketh this;
+    And if it be an evil way, condemned
+    For Brahmans, yet the Kshattriya may do
+    What vengeance bids against his foes. Our foes,
+    The Pandavas, are furious, treacherous, base,
+    Halting at nothing; and how say the wise
+    In holy Shastras?--"Wounded, wearied, fed,
+    Or fasting; sleeping, waking, setting forth,
+    Or new arriving; slay thine enemies;"
+    And so again, "At midnight when they sleep,
+    Dawn when they watch not; noon if leaders fall;
+    Eve, should they scatter; all the times and hours
+    Are times and hours fitted for killing foes."'
+
+    "So did the son of Drona steel his soul
+    To break upon the sleeping Pandu chiefs
+    And slay them in the darkness. Being set
+    On this unlordly deed, and clear in scheme,
+    He from their slumbers roused the warriors twain,
+    Kripa and Kritavarman."
+
+
+
+
+_THE MORNING PRAYER._
+
+
+    Our Lord the Prophet (peace to him!) doth write--
+    Súrah the Seventeenth, intituled "Night"--
+    "Pray at the noon; pray at the sinking sun;
+    In night-time pray; but most when night is done;
+    For daybreak's prayer is surely borne on high
+    By angels, changing guard within the sky;"
+    And in another place:--"Dawn's prayer is more
+    Than the wide world, with all its treasured store."
+
+    Therefore the Faithful, when the growing light
+    Gives to discern a black hair from a white,
+    Haste to the mosque, and, bending Mecca-way,
+    Recite _Al-Fâtihah_ while 'tis scarce yet day:
+    "_Praise be to Allah--Lord of all that live:
+    Merciful King and Judge! To Thee we give
+    Worship and honour! Succour us, and guide
+    Where those have walked who rest Thy throne beside:
+    The way of Peace; the way of truthful speech;
+    The way of Righteousness. So we beseech._"
+    He that saith this, before the East is red,
+    A hundred prayers of Azan hath he said.
+
+    Hear now a story of it--told, I ween,
+    For your souls' comfort by Jelal-ud-din,
+    In the great pages of the Mesnevî;
+    For therein, plain and certain, shall ye see
+    How precious is the prayer at break of day
+    In Allah's ears, and in his sight alway
+    How sweet are reverence and gentleness
+    Shown to his creatures. Àli (whom I bless!)
+    The son of Abu Talib--he surnamed
+    "Lion of God," in many battles famed,
+    The cousin of our Lord the Prophet (grace
+    Be his!)--uprose betimes one morn, to pace--
+    As he was wont--unto the mosque, wherein
+    Our Lord (bliss live with him!) watched to begin
+    _Al-Fâtihah_. Darkling was the sky, and strait
+    The lane between the city and mosque-gate,
+    By rough stones broken and deep pools of rain;
+    And there through toilfully, with steps of pain,
+    Leaning upon his staff an old Jew went
+    To synagogue, on pious errand bent:
+    For those be "People of the Book,"--and some
+    Are chosen of Allah's will, who have not come
+    Unto full light of wisdom. Therefore he
+    Àli--the Caliph of proud days to be--
+    Knowing this good old man, and why he stirred
+    Thus early, e'er the morning mills were heard,
+    Out of his nobleness and grace of soul
+    Would not thrust past, though the Jew blocked the whole
+    Breadth of the lane, slow-hobbling. So they went,
+    That ancient first; and in soft discontent,
+    After him Àli--noting how the sun
+    Flared nigh, and fearing prayer might be begun;
+    Yet no command upraising, no harsh cry
+    To stand aside;--because the dignity
+    Of silver hairs is much, and morning praise
+    Was precious to the Jew, too. Thus their ways
+    Wended the pair; Great Àli, sad and slow,
+    Following the greybeard, while the East, a-glow,
+    Blazed with bright spears of gold athwart the blue,
+    And the Muezzin's call came "_Illahu!
+    Allah-il-Allah!_"
+
+                          In the mosque, our Lord
+    (On whom be peace!) stood by the Mehrab-board
+    In act to bow, and _Fâtihah_ forth to say.
+    But as his lips moved, some strong hand did lay
+    Over his mouth a palm invisible,
+    So that no voice on the Assembly fell.
+    "_Ya! Rabbi 'lalamîna_" thrice he tried
+    To read, and thrice the sound of reading died,
+    Stayed by this unseen touch. Thereat amazed
+    Our Lord Muhammed turned, arose, and gazed;
+    And saw--alone of those within the shrine--
+    A splendid Presence, with large eyes divine
+    Beaming, and golden pinions folded down,
+    Their speed still tokened by the fluttered gown.
+    GABRIEL he knew, the spirit who doth stand
+    Chief of the Sons of Heav'n, at God's right hand:
+    "Gabriel! why stayest thou me?" the Prophet said,
+    "Since at this hour the _Fâtihah_  should be read."
+
+    But the bright Presence, smiling, pointed where
+    Àli towards the outer gate drew near,
+    Upon the threshold shaking off his shoes
+    And giving "alms of entry," as men use.
+    "Yea!" spake th' Archangel, "sacred is the sound
+    Of morning-praise, and worth the world's wide round,
+    Though earth were pearl and silver; therefore I
+    Stayed thee, Muhammed, in the act to cry,
+    Lest Àli, tarrying in the lane, should miss,
+    For his good deed, its blessing and its bliss."
+
+    Thereat th' Archangel vanished:--and our Lord
+    Read _Fâtihah_ forth beneath the Mehrab-board.
+
+
+
+
+_PROVERBIAL WISDOM_
+
+FROM THE
+
+_SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA_.
+
+
+DEDICATION
+
+(_TO FIRST EDITION_)
+
+
+    _To you, dear Wife--to whom beside so well?--
+      True Counsellor and tried, at every shift,
+    I bring my "Book of Counsels:" let it tell
+      Largeness of love by littleness of gift;_
+
+    _And take this growth of foreign skies from me,
+      (A scholar's thanks for gentle help in toil,)
+    Whose leaf, "though dark," like Milton's Hœmony,
+      "Bears a bright golden flower, if not in this soil."_
+
+_April 9, 1861._
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+_TO THE "BOOK OF GOOD COUNSELS."_
+
+
+The _Hitopadeśa_ is a work of high antiquity and extended popularity.
+The prose is doubtless as old as our own era; but the intercalated
+verses and proverbs compose a selection from writings of an age
+extremely remote. The _Mahábhárata_ and the textual _Veds_ are of
+those quoted; to the first of which Professor M. Williams (in his
+admirable edition of the _Nala_, 1860) assigns the modest date of 350
+B.C., while he claims for the _Rig-Veda_ an antiquity as high as 1300
+B.C. The _Hitopadeśa_ may thus be fairly styled "The Father of all
+Fables;" for from its numerous translations have probably come Esop
+and Pilpay, and in latter days _Reineke Fuchs_. Originally compiled in
+Sanskrit, it was rendered, by order of Nushirván, in the sixth century
+A.D., into Persic. From the Persic it passed, A.D. 850, into the
+Arabic, and thence into Hebrew and Greek. In its own land it obtained
+as wide a circulation. The Emperor Akbar, impressed with the wisdom of
+its maxims and the ingenuity of its apologues, commended the work of
+translating it to his own Vizier, Abdul Fazel. That Minister
+accordingly put the book into a familiar style, and published it with
+explanations, under the title of the _Criterion of Wisdom_. The
+Emperor had also suggested the abridgment of the long series of
+shlokes which here and there interrupt the narrative, and the Vizier
+found this advice sound, and followed it, like the present Translator.
+To this day, in India, the _Hitopadeśa_, under its own or other names
+(as the _Anvári Suhaili_), retains the delighted attention of young
+and old, and has some representative in all the Indian vernaculars. A
+selection from the metrical Sanskrit proverbs and maxims is here
+given.
+
+
+_PROVERBIAL WISDOM_
+
+FROM THE
+
+_SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADEŚA._
+
+
+        _This Book of Counsel read, and you shall see,
+         Fair speech and Sanskrit lore, and Policy._
+
+    "Wise men, holding wisdom highest, scorn delights, more false than
+        fair;
+    Daily live as if Death's fingers twined already in thy hair!
+
+    "Truly, richer than all riches, better than the best of gain,
+    Wisdom is; unbought, secure--once won, none loseth her again.
+
+    "Bringing dark things into daylight, solving doubts that vex the mind,
+    Like an open eye is Wisdom--he that hath her not is blind."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Childless art thou? dead thy children? leaving thee to want and doole?
+    Less thy misery than his is, who lives father to a fool."
+
+    "One wise son makes glad his father, forty fools avail him not:
+    One moon silvers all that darkness which the silly stars did dot."
+
+    "Ease and health, obeisant children, wisdom, and a fair-voiced wife--
+    Thus, great King! are counted up the five felicities of life."
+
+    "For the son the sire is honoured; though the bow-cane bendeth true,
+    Let the strained string crack in using, and what service shall it do?"
+
+    "That which will not be, will not be--and what is to be, will be:
+    Why not drink this easy physic, antidote of misery?"
+
+    "Nay! but faint not, idly sighing, 'Destiny is mightiest,'
+    Sesamum holds oil in plenty, but it yieldeth none unpressed."
+
+    "Ah! it is the Coward's babble, 'Fortune taketh, Fortune gave;'
+    Fortune! rate her like a master, and she serves thee like a slave."
+
+    "Two-fold is the life we live in--Fate and Will together run:
+    Two wheels bear life's chariot onward--Will it move on only one?"
+
+    "Look! the clay dries into iron, but the potter moulds the clay:
+    Destiny to-day is master--Man was master yesterday."
+
+    "Worthy ends come not by wishing. Wouldst thou? Up, and win it, then!
+    While the hungry lion slumbers, not a deer comes to his den."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Silly glass, in splendid settings, something of the gold may gain;
+    And in company of wise ones, fools to wisdom may attain."
+
+    "Labours spent on the unworthy, of reward the labourer balk;
+    Like the parrot, teach the heron twenty words, he will not talk."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Ah! a thousand thoughts of sorrow, and a hundred things of dread,
+    By the fools unheeded, enter day by day the wise man's head."
+
+    "Of the day's impending dangers, Sickness, Death, and Misery,
+    One will be; the wise man, waking, ponders which that one will be."
+
+    "Good things come not out of bad things; wisely leave a longed-for ill.
+    Nectar being mixed with poison serves no purpose but to kill."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Give to poor men, son of Kûnti--on the wealthy waste not wealth;
+    Good are simples for the sick man, good for nought to him in health."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Be his Scripture-learning wondrous, yet the cheat will be a cheat;
+    Be her pasture ne'er so bitter, yet the cow's milk will taste sweet."
+
+    "Trust not water, trust not weapons; trust not clawed nor horned
+        things;
+    Neither give thy soul to women, nor thy life to Sons of Kings."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Look! the Moon, the silver roamer, from whose splendour darkness
+        flies,
+    With his starry cohorts marching, like a crowned king, through the
+        skies:
+    All his grandeur, all his glory, vanish in the Dragon's jaw;
+    What is written on the forehead, that will be, and nothing more."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+            "Counsel in danger; of it
+               Unwarned, be nothing begun;
+             But nobody asks a Prophet,
+               Shall the risk of a dinner be run?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Avarice begetteth anger; blind desires from her begin;
+    A right fruitful mother is she of a countless spawn of sin."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Be second and not first!--the share's the same
+    If all go well. If not, the Head's to blame."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Passion will be Slave or Mistress: follow her, she brings to woe;
+    Lead her, 'tis the way to Fortune. Choose the path that thou wilt go."
+
+    "When the time of trouble cometh, friends may ofttimes irk us most:
+    For the calf at milking-hour the mother's leg is tying-post."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "In good-fortune not elated, in ill-fortune not dismayed,
+    Ever eloquent in council, never in the fight affrayed,
+    Proudly emulous of honour, steadfastly on wisdom set;
+    These six virtues in the nature of a noble soul are met.
+    Whoso hath them, gem and glory of the three wide worlds is he;
+    Happy mother she that bore him, she who nursed him on her knee."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Small things wax exceeding mighty, being cunningly combined;
+    Furious elephants are fastened with a rope of grass-blades twined."
+
+    "Let the household hold together, though the house be ne'er so small;
+    Strip the rice-husk from the rice-grain, and it groweth not at all."
+
+          "Sickness, anguish, bonds, and woe
+          Spring from wrongs wrought long ago."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Keep wealth for want, but spend it for thy wife,
+    And wife, and wealth, and all, to guard thy life."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Death, that must come, comes nobly when we give
+    Our wealth, and life, and all, to make men live."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Floating on his fearless pinions, lost amid the noonday skies,
+    Even thence the Eagle's vision kens the carcass where it lies;
+    But the hour that comes to all things comes unto the Lord of Air,
+    And he rushes, madly blinded, to die helpless in the snare."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Bar thy door not to the stranger, be he friend or be he foe,
+    For the tree will shade the woodman while his axe doth lay it low.
+
+    Greeting fair, and room to rest in; fire, and water from the well--
+    Simple gifts--are given freely in the house where good men dwell;--
+
+    Young, or bent with many winters; rich, or poor whate'er thy guest,
+    Honour him for thine own honour--better is he than the best.
+
+    "Pity them that crave thy pity: who art thou to stint thy hoard,
+    When the holy moon shines equal on the leper and the lord?"
+
+    When thy gate is roughly fastened, and the asker turns away,
+    Thence he bears thy good deeds with him, and his sins on thee doth lay.
+
+    In the house the husband ruleth; men the Brahman "master" call;
+    Agni is the Twice-born's Master--but the guest is lord of all.
+
+          "He who does and thinks no wrong--
+          He who suffers, being strong--
+          He whose harmlessness men know--
+          Unto Swarga such doth go."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "In the land where no wise men are, men of little wit are lords;
+    And the castor-oil's a tree, where no tree else its shade affords."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Foe is friend, and friend is foe,
+          As our actions make them so."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "That friend only is the true friend who abides when trouble comes;
+    That man only is the brave man who can bear the battle-drums;
+    Words are wind; deed proveth promise: he who helps at need is kin;
+    And the leal wife is loving though the husband lose or win."
+
+    "Friend and kinsman--more their meaning than the idle-hearted mind;
+    Many a friend can prove unfriendly, many a kinsman less than kind:
+    He who shares his comrade's portion, be he beggar, be he lord,
+    Comes as truly, comes as duly, to the battle as the board--
+    Stands before the king to succour, follows to the pile to sigh--
+    He is friend, and he is kinsman; less would make the name a lie."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Stars gleam, lamps flicker, friends foretell of fate;
+    The fated sees, knows, hears them--all too late."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Absent, flatterers' tongues are daggers--present, softer than the
+        silk;
+    Shun them! 'tis a draught of poison hidden under harmless milk;
+    Shun them when they promise little! Shun them when they promise much!
+    For enkindled, charcoal burneth--cold, it doth defile the touch."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "In years, or moons, or half-moons three,
+          Or in three days--suddenly,
+          Knaves are shent--true men go free."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Anger comes to noble natures, but leaves there no strife or storm:
+    Plunge a lighted torch beneath it, and the ocean grows not warm."
+
+    "Noble hearts are golden vases--close the bond true metals make;
+    Easily the smith may weld them, harder far it is to break.
+    Evil hearts are earthen vessels--at a touch they crack a-twain,
+    And what craftsman's ready cunning can unite the shards again?"
+
+    "Good men's friendships may be broken, yet abide they friends at heart;
+    Snap the stem of Luxmee's lotus, but its fibres will not part."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "One foot goes, and one foot stands,
+          When the wise man leaves his lands."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Over-love of home were weakness; wheresoe'er the hero come,
+    Stalwart arm and steadfast spirit find or make for him a home.
+    Little recks the awless lion where his hunting jungles lie--
+    When he enters them be certain that a royal prey shall die."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Very feeble folk are poor folk; money lost takes wit away:
+    All their doings fail like runnels, wasting through the summer day."
+
+    "Wealth is friends, home, father, brother--title to respect and fame;
+    Yea, and wealth is held for wisdom--that it should be so is shame."
+
+    "Home is empty to the childless; hearts to those who friends deplore:
+    Earth unto the idle-minded; and the three worlds to the poor."
+
+    "Say the sages, nine things name not: Age, domestic joys and woes,
+    Counsel, sickness, shame, alms, penance; neither Poverty disclose.
+    Better for the proud of spirit, death, than life with losses told;
+    Fire consents to be extinguished, but submits riot to be cold."
+
+          "As Age doth banish beauty,
+            As moonlight dies in gloom,
+          As Slavery's menial duty
+            Is Honour's certain tomb;
+
+          As Hari's name and Hara's
+            Spoken, charm sin away,
+          So Poverty can surely
+            A hundred virtues slay."
+
+    "Half-known knowledge, present pleasure purchased with a future woe,
+    And to taste the salt of service--greater griefs no man can know."
+
+    "All existence is not equal, and all living is not life;
+    Sick men live; and he who, banished, pines for children, home, and
+        wife;
+    And the craven-hearted eater of another's leavings lives,
+    And the wretched captive, waiting for the word of doom, survives;
+    But they bear an anguished body, and they draw a deadly breath;
+    And life cometh to them only on the happy day of death."
+
+    "Golden gift, serene Contentment! have thou that, and all is had;
+    Thrust thy slipper on, and think thee that the earth is leather-clad."
+
+    "All is known, digested, tested; nothing new is left to learn
+    When the soul, serene, reliant, Hope's delusive dreams can spurn."
+
+    "Hast thou never watched, awaiting till the great man's door unbarred?
+    Didst thou never linger parting, saying many a sad last word?
+    Spak'st thou never word of folly, one light thing thou would'st recall?
+    Rare and noble hath thy life been! fair thy fortune did befall!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "True Religion!--'tis not blindly prating what the gurus prate,
+    But to love, as God hath loved them, all things, be they small or
+        great;
+    And true bliss is when a sane mind doth a healthy body fill;
+    And true knowledge is the knowing what is good and what is ill."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Poisonous though the tree of life be, two fair blossoms grow thereon:
+    One, the company of good men; and sweet songs of Poets, one."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Give, and it shall swell thy getting; give, and thou shalt safer keep:
+    Pierce the tank-wall; or it yieldeth, when the water waxeth deep."
+
+    "When the miser hides his treasure in the earth, he doeth well;
+    For he opens up a passage that his soul may sink to hell."
+
+    "He whose coins are kept for counting, not to barter nor to give,
+    Breathe he like a blacksmith's bellows, yet in truth he doth not live."
+
+    "Gifts, bestowed with words of kindness, making giving doubly dear:
+    Wisdom, deep, complete, benignant, of all arrogancy clear;
+    Valour, never yet forgetful of sweet Mercy's pleading prayer;
+    Wealth, and scorn of wealth to spend it--oh! but these be virtues
+        rare!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Sentences of studied wisdom, nought avail they unapplied;
+    Though the blind man hold a lantern, yet his footsteps stray aside."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Would'st thou, know whose happy dwelling Fortune entereth unknown?
+    His, who careless of her favour, standeth fearless in his own;
+    His, who for the vague to-morrow barters not the sure to-day--
+    Master of himself, and sternly steadfast to the rightful way:
+    Very mindful of past service, valiant, faithful, true of heart--
+    Unto such comes Lakshmi smiling--comes, and will not lightly part."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Be not haughty, being wealthy; droop not, having lost thine all;
+    Fate doth play with mortal fortunes as a girl doth toss her ball."
+
+    "Worldly friendships, fair but fleeting; shadows of the clouds at noon;
+    Women, youth, new corn, and riches; these be pleasures passing soon."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "For thy bread be not o'er thoughtful--Heav'n for all hath taken
+        thought:
+    When the babe is born, the sweet milk to the mother's breast is
+        brought.
+
+    "He who gave the swan her silver, and the hawk her plumes of pride,
+    And his purples to the peacock--He will verily provide."
+
+    "Though for good ends, waste not on wealth a minute;
+    Mud may be wiped, but wise men plunge not in it."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Brunettes, and the Banyan's shadow,
+            Well-springs, and a brick-built wall,
+          Are all alike cool in the summer,
+            And warm in the winter--all."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Ah! the gleaming, glancing arrows of a lovely woman's eye!
+    Feathered with her jetty lashes, perilous they pass thee by:
+    Loosed at venture from the black bows of her arching brow, they part,
+    All too penetrant and deadly for an undefended heart."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Beautiful the Koil seemeth for the sweetness of his song,
+    Beautiful the world esteemeth pious souls for patience strong;
+    Homely features lack not favour when true wisdom they reveal,
+    And a wife is fair and honoured while her heart is firm and leal."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Friend! gracious word!--the heart to tell is ill able
+    Whence came to men this jewel of a syllable."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Whoso for greater quits small gain,
+          Shall have his labour for his pain;
+          The things unwon unwon remain,
+          And what was won is lost again."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Looking down on lives below them, men of little store are great;
+    Looking up to higher fortunes, hard to each man seems his fate."
+
+    "As a bride, unwisely wedded, shuns the cold caress of eld,
+    So, from coward souls and slothful, Lakshmi's favours turn repelled."
+
+    "Ease, ill-health, home-keeping, sleeping, woman-service, and content--
+    In the path that leads to greatness these be six obstructions sent."
+
+    "Seeing how the soorma wasteth, seeing how the ant-hill grows,
+    Little adding unto little--live, give, learn, as life-time, goes."
+
+    "Drops of water falling, falling, falling, brim the chatty o'er;
+    Wisdom comes in little lessons--little gains make largest store."
+
+          "Men their cunning schemes may spin--
+          God knows who shall lose or  win."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Shoot a hundred shafts, the quarry lives and flies--not due to death;
+    When his hour is come, a grass-blade hath a point to stop his breath."
+
+    "Robes were none, nor oil of unction, when the King of Beasts was
+        crowned:
+    'Twas his own fierce roar proclaimed him, rolling all the kingdom
+        round."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "What but for their vassals,
+            Elephant and man--
+          Swing of golden tassels,
+            Wave of silken fan--
+          But for regal manner
+            That the 'Chattra' brings,
+          Horse, and foot, and banner--
+            What would come of kings?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "At the work-time, asking wages--is it like a faithful herd?
+    When the work's done, grudging wages--is _that_ acting like a lord?"
+
+    "Serve the Sun with sweat of body; starve thy maw to feed the flame;
+    Stead thy lord with all thy service; to thy death go, quit of blame."
+
+    "Many prayers for him are uttered whereon many a life relies;
+    'Tis but one poor fool the fewer when the greedy jack-daw dies."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Give thy Dog the merest mouthful, and he crouches at thy feet,
+    Wags his tail, and fawns, and grovels, in his eagerness to eat;
+    Bid the Elephant be feeding, and the best of fodder bring;
+    Gravely--after much entreaty--condescends that mighty king."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "By their own deeds men go downward, by them men mount upward all,
+    Like the diggers of a well, and like the builders of a wall."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Rushes down the hill the crag, which upward 'twas so hard to roll:
+    So to virtue slowly rises--so to vice quick sinks the soul."
+
+          "Who speaks unasked, or comes unbid,
+          Or counts on service--will be chid."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Wise, modest, constant, ever close at hand,
+          Not weighing but obeying all command,
+          Such servant by a Monarch's throne may stand."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Pitiful, who fearing failure, therefore no beginning makes,
+    Why forswear a daily dinner for the chance of stomach-aches?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Nearest to the King is dearest, be thy merit low or high;
+    Women, creeping plants, and princes, twine round that which groweth
+        nigh."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Pearls are dull in leaden settings, but the setter is to blame;
+    Glass will glitter like the ruby, dulled with dust--are they the same?"
+
+    "And a fool may tread on jewels, setting in his turban glass;
+    Yet, at selling, gems are gems, and fardels but for fardels pass."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Horse and weapon, lute and volume, man and woman, gift of speech,
+    Have their uselessness or uses in the one who owneth each."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Not disparagement nor slander kills the spirit of the brave;
+    Fling a torch down, upward ever burns the brilliant flame it gave."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Wisdom from the mouth of children be it overpast of none;
+    What man scorns to walk by lamplight in the absence of the sun?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Strength serves Reason. Saith the Mahout, when he beats the brazen
+        drum,
+    'Ho! ye elephants, to this work must your mightinesses come.'"
+
+    "Mighty natures war with mighty: when the raging tempests blow,
+    O'er the green rice harmless pass they, but they lay the palm-trees
+        low."
+
+    "Narrow-necked to let out little, big of belly to keep much,
+    As a flagon is--the Vizier of a Sultan should be such."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "He who thinks a minute little, like a fool misuses more;
+    He who counts a cowry nothing, being wealthy, will be poor."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Brahmans, soldiers, these and kinsmen--of the three set none in
+        charge:
+    For the Brahman, though you rack him, yields no treasure small or
+        large;
+    And the soldier, being trusted, writes his quittance with his sword,
+    And the kinsman cheats his kindred by the charter of the word;
+    But a servant old in service, worse than any one is thought,
+    Who, by long-tried license fearless, knows his master's anger nought."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Never tires the fire of burning, never wearies Death of slaying,
+    Nor the sea of drinking rivers, nor the bright-eyed of betraying."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "From false friends that breed thee strife,
+          From a house with serpents rife,
+          Saucy slaves and brawling wife--
+          Get thee forth, to save thy life."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Teeth grown loose, and wicked-hearted ministers, and poison trees,
+    Pluck them by the roots together; 'tis the thing that giveth ease."
+
+    "Long-tried friends are friends to cleave to--never leave thou these
+       i' the lurch:
+    What man shuns the fire as sinful for that once it burned a church?"
+
+    "Raise an evil soul to honour, and his evil bents remain;
+    Bind a cur's tail ne'er so straightly, yet it curleth up again."
+
+    "How, in sooth, should Trust and Honour change the evil nature's root?
+    Though one watered them with nectar, poison-trees bear deadly fruit."
+
+    "Safe within the husk of silence guard the seed of counsel so
+    That it break not--being broken, then the seedling will not grow."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Even as one who grasps a serpent, drowning in the bitter sea,
+    Death to hold and death to loosen--such is life's perplexity."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Woman's love rewards the worthless--kings of knaves exalters be;
+    Wealth attends the selfish niggard, and the cloud rains on the sea."
+
+    "Many a knave wins fair opinions standing in fair company,
+    As the sooty soorma pleases, lighted by a brilliant eye."
+
+    "Where the azure lotus blossoms, there the alligators hide;
+    In the sandal-tree are serpents. Pain and pleasure live allied."
+
+    "Rich the sandal--yet no part is but a vile thing habits there;
+    Snake and wasp haunt root and blossom; on the boughs sit ape and bear."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "As a bracelet of crystal, once broke, is not mended
+    So the favour of princes, once altered, is ended."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Wrath of kings, and rage of lightning--both be very full of dread;
+    But one falls on one man only--one strikes many victims dead."
+
+    "All men scorn the soulless coward who his manhood doth forget:
+    On a lifeless heap of ashes fearlessly the foot is set."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Simple milk, when serpents drink it, straightway into venom turns;
+    And a fool who heareth counsel all the wisdom of it spurns."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "A modest manner fits a maid,
+            And Patience is a man's adorning;
+          But brides may kiss, nor do amiss,
+            And men may draw, at scathe and scorning."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Serving narrow-minded masters dwarfs high natures to their size:
+    Seen before a convex mirror, elephants do show as mice."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Elephants destroy by touching, snakes with point of tooth beguile;
+    Kings by favour kill, and traitors murder with a fatal smile."
+
+    "Of the wife the lord is jewel, though no gems upon her beam;
+    Lacking him, she lacks adornment, howsoe'er her jewels gleam!"
+
+    "Hairs three-lakhs, and half-a-lakh hairs, on a man so many grow--
+    And so many years to Swarga shall the true wife surely go!"
+
+    "When the faithful wife, embracing tenderly her husband dead,
+    Mounts the blazing pyre beside him, as it were a bridal-bed;
+    Though his sins were twenty thousand, twenty thousand times o'er-told,
+    She shall bring his soul to splendour, for her love so large and bold."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Counsel unto six ears spoken, unto all is notified
+    When a King holds consultation, let it be with one beside."
+
+    "Sick men are for skilful leeches--prodigals for poisoning--
+    Fools for teachers--and the man who keeps a secret, for a King."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "With gift, craft, promise, cause thy foe to yield;
+    When these have failed thee, challenge him afield."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "The subtle wash of waves do smoothly pass,
+          But lay the tree as lowly as the grass."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Ten true bowmen on a rampart fifty's onset may sustain;
+    Fortalices keep a country more than armies in the plain."
+
+    "Build it strong, and build it spacious, with an entry and retreat;
+    Store it well with wood and water, fill its garners full with wheat."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Gems will no man's life sustain;
+          Best of gold is golden grain."
+
+    "Hard it is to conquer nature: if a dog were made a King,
+    'Mid the coronation trumpets he would gnaw his sandal-string."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "'Tis no Council where no Sage is--'tis no Sage that fears not Law;
+    'Tis no Law which Truth confirms not--'tis no Truth which Fear can
+        awe."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Though base be the Herald, nor hinder nor let,
+            For the mouth of a king is he;
+          The sword may be whet, and the battle set,
+            But the word of his message goes free."
+
+    "Better few and chosen fighters than of shaven-crowns a host,
+    For in headlong flight confounded, with the base the brave are lost."
+
+    "Kind is kin, howe'er a stranger--kin unkind is stranger shown;
+    Sores hurt, though the body breeds them--drugs relieve, though
+        desert-grown."
+
+    "Betel-nut is bitter, hot, sweet, spicy, binding, alkaline--
+    A demulcent--an astringent--foe to evils intestine;
+    Giving to the breath a fragrance--to the lips a crimson red;
+    A detergent, and a kindler of Love's flame that lieth dead.
+    Praise the Gods for the good betel!--these be thirteen virtues given,
+    Hard to meet in one thing blended, even in their happy heaven."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "He is brave whose tongue is silent of the trophies of his sword;
+    He is great whose quiet bearing marks his greatness well assured."
+
+    "When the Priest, the Leech, the Vizier of a King his flatterers be,
+    Very soon the King will part with health, and wealth and piety."
+
+    "Merciless, or money-loving, deaf to counsel, false of faith,
+    Thoughtless, spiritless, or careless, changing course with every
+        breath,
+    Or the man who scorns his rival--if a prince should choose a foe,
+    Ripe for meeting and defeating, certes he would choose him so."
+
+    "By the valorous and unskilful great achievements are not wrought;
+    Courage, led by careful Prudence, unto highest ends is brought."
+
+    "Grief kills gladness, winter summer, midnight-gloom the light of day,
+    Kindnesses ingratitude, and pleasant friends drive pain away;
+    Each ends each, but none of other surer conquerors can be
+    Than Impolicy of Fortune--of Misfortune Policy."
+
+    "Wisdom answers all who ask her, but a fool she cannot aid;
+    Blind men in the faithful mirror see not their reflection made."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Where the Gods are, or thy Gúrú--in the face of Pain and Age,
+    Cattle, Brahmans, Kings, and Children--reverently curb thy rage."
+
+    "Oh, my Prince! on eight occasions prodigality is none--
+    In the solemn sacrificing, at the wedding of a son,
+    When the glittering treasure given makes the proud invader bleed,
+    Or its lustre bringeth comfort to the people in their need,
+    Or when kinsmen are to succour, or a worthy work to end,
+    Or to do a loved one honour, or to welcome back a friend."
+
+    "Truth, munificence, and valour, are the virtues of a King;
+    Royalty, devoid of either, sinks to a rejected thing."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Hold thy vantage!--alligators on the land make none afraid;
+    And the lion's but a jackal who hath left his forest-shade."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The people are the lotus-leaves, their monarch is the sun--
+    When he doth sink beneath the waves they vanish every one.
+    When he doth rise they rise again with bud and blossom rife,
+    To bask awhile in his warm smile, who is their lord and life."
+
+    "All the cows bring forth are cattle--only now and then is born
+    An authentic lord of pastures, with his shoulder-scratching horn."
+
+    "When the soldier in the battle lays his life down for his king,
+    Unto Swarga's perfect glory such a deed his soul shall bring."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "'Tis the fool who, meeting trouble, straightway Destiny reviles,
+    Knowing not his own misdoing brought his own mischance the whiles."
+
+    "'Time-not-come' and 'Quick-at-Peril,' these two fishes 'scaped the
+        net;
+    'What-will-be-will-be,' he perished, by the fishermen beset."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Sex, that tires of being true,
+          Base and new is brave to you!
+          Like the jungle-cows ye range,
+          Changing food for sake of change."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "That which will not be will not be, and what is to be will be:
+    Why not drink this easy physic, antidote of misery?"
+
+    "Whoso trusts, for service rendered, or fair words, an enemy,
+    Wakes from folly like one falling in his slumber from a tree."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Fellow be with kindly foemen, rather than with friends unkind;
+    Friend and foeman are distinguished not by title but by mind."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Whoso setting duty highest, speaks at need unwelcome things,
+    Disregarding fear and favour, such an one may succour kings."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Brahmans for their lore have honour; Kshattriyas for their bravery;
+    Vaisyas for their hard-earned treasure; Sudras for humility."
+
+    "Seven foemen of all foemen, very hard to vanquish be:
+    The Truth-teller, the Just-dweller, and the man from passion free.
+
+    "Subtle, self-sustained, and counting frequent well-won victories,
+    And the man of many kinsmen--keep the peace with such as these."
+
+    "For the man with many kinsmen answers by them all attacks;
+    As the bambu, in the bambus safely sheltered, scorns the axe."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Whoso hath the gift of giving wisely, equitably, well;
+    Whoso, learning all men's secrets, unto none his own will tell:
+    Whoso, ever cold and courtly, utters nothing that offends,
+    Such an one may rule his fellows unto Earth's extremest ends."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Cheating them that truly trust you, 'tis a clumsy villany!
+    Any knave may slay the child who climbs and slumbers on his knee."
+
+    "Hunger hears not, cares not, spares not; no boon of the starving beg;
+    When the snake is pinched with craving, verily she eats her egg."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Of the Tree of State the root
+          Kings are--feed what brings the fruit."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Courtesy may cover malice; on their _heads_ the woodmen bring,
+    Meaning all the while to burn them, logs and faggots--oh, my King!
+    And the strong and subtle river, rippling at the cedar's foot,
+    While it seems to lave and kiss it, undermines the hanging root."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Weep not! Life the hired nurse is, holding us a little space;
+    Death, the mother who doth take us back into our proper place."
+
+    "Gone, with all their gauds and glories: gone, like peasants, are the
+        Kings,
+    Whereunto this earth was witness, whereof all her record rings."
+
+    "For the body, daily wasting, is not seen to waste away,
+    Until wasted; as in water set a jar of unbaked clay."
+
+    "And day after day man goeth near and nearer to his fate,
+    As step after step the victim thither where its slayers wait."
+
+          "Like as a plank of drift-wood
+             Tossed on the watery main,
+           Another plank encountered,
+             Meets,--touches,--parts again;
+           So tossed, and drifting ever,
+             On life's unresting sea,
+           Men meet, and greet, and sever,
+             Parting eternally."
+
+    "Halt, traveller! rest i' the shade: then up and leave it!
+    Stay, Soul! take fill of love; nor losing, grieve it!"
+
+          "Each beloved object born
+           Sets within the heart a thorn,
+           Bleeding, when they be uptorn."
+
+    "If thine own house, this rotting frame, doth wither,
+    Thinking another's lasting--goest thou thither?"
+
+          "Meeting makes a parting sure,
+           Life is nothing but death's door."
+
+    "As the downward-running rivers never turn and never stay,
+    So the days and nights stream deathward, bearing human lives away."
+
+    "Bethinking him of darkness grim, and death's unshunnèd pain,
+    A man strong-souled relaxes hold, like leather soaked in rain."
+
+          "From the day, the hour, the minute.
+             Each life quickens in the womb;
+           Thence its march, no falter in it,
+             Goes straight forward to the tomb."
+
+    "An 'twere not so, would sorrow cease with years?
+    Wisdom sees right what want of knowledge fears."
+
+    "Seek not the wild, sad heart! thy passions haunt it;
+    Play hermit in thy house with heart undaunted;
+    A governed heart, thinking no thought but good,
+    Makes crowded houses holy solitude."
+
+    "Away with those that preach to us the washing off of sin--
+    Thine own self is the stream for thee to make ablutions in:
+    In self-restraint it rises pure--flows clear in tide of truth,
+    By widening banks of wisdom, in waves of peace and truth."
+
+    "Bathe there, thou son of Pandu! with reverence and rite,
+    For never yet was water wet could wash the spirit white."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Thunder for nothing, like December's cloud,
+    Passes unmarked: strike hard, but speak not loud."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Minds deceived by evil natures, from the good their faith withhold;
+    When hot conjee once has burned them, children blow upon the cold."
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Indian Poetry, by Edwin Arnold
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Indian Poetry, by Edwin Arnold
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Indian Poetry
+       Containing "The Indian Song of Songs," from the Sanskrit
+       of the G�ta Govinda of Jayadeva, Two books from "The Iliad
+       Of India" (Mah�bh�rata), "Proverbial Wisdom" from the
+       Shlokas of the Hitopadesa, and other Oriental Poems.
+
+Author: Edwin Arnold
+
+Release Date: July 4, 2008 [EBook #25965]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INDIAN POETRY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Thierry Alberto, and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                            INDIAN POETRY
+
+                             CONTAINING
+
+            "_THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS," FROM THE SANSKRIT
+                   OF THE G�TA GOVINDA OF JAYADEVA
+          TWO BOOKS FROM "THE ILIAD OF INDIA" (MAH�BH�RATA)
+             "PROVERBIAL WISDOM" FROM THE SHLOKAS OF THE
+                HITOPADESA, AND OTHER ORIENTAL POEMS_
+
+
+                                  BY
+
+               SIR EDWIN ARNOLD, M.A., K.C.I.E., C.S.I.
+
+                   _Author of "The Light of Asia"_
+
+                OFFICER OF THE WHITE ELEPHANT OF SIAM
+          THIRD CLASS OF THE IMPERIAL ORDER OF THE MEDJIDIE
+     FELLOW OF THE ROYAL ASIATIC AND ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETIES
+ HONORARY MEMBER OF THE SOCIET� DE GEOGRAPHIE, MARSEILLES, ETC. ETC.
+           FORMERLY PRINCIPAL OF THE DECCAN COLLEGE, POONA
+                AND FELLOW OF THE UNIVERSITY OF BOMBAY
+
+
+
+                          EIGHTH IMPRESSION
+
+
+                                LONDON
+
+                KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO. L^TD
+
+                   DRYDEN HOUSE, GERRARD STREET, W.
+
+                                 1904
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+                                                        PAGE
+
+THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS--
+
+Introduction                                             1
+
+Hymn to Vishnu                                           3
+
+Sarga the First--The Sports of Krishna                   9
+
+Sarga the Second--The Penitence of Krishna              22
+
+Sarga the Third--Krishna troubled                       31
+
+Sarga the Fourth--Krishna cheered                       37
+
+Sarga the Fifth--The Longings of Krishna                44
+
+Sarga the Sixth--Krishna made bolder                    54
+
+Sarga the Seventh--Krishna supposed false               59
+
+Sarga the Eighth--The Rebuking of Krishna               75
+
+Sarga the Ninth--The End of Krishna's Trial             79
+
+Sarga the Tenth--Krishna in Paradise                    83
+
+Sarga the Eleventh--The Union of Radha and Krishna      88
+
+
+MISCELLANEOUS ORIENTAL POEMS--
+
+The Rajpoot Wife                                       101
+
+King Saladin                                           113
+
+The Caliph's Draught                                   132
+
+Hindoo Funeral Song                                    137
+
+Song of the Serpent Charmers                           138
+
+Song of the Flour-Mill                                 140
+
+Taza ba Taza                                           142
+
+The Mussulman Paradise                                 146
+
+Dedication of a Poem from the Sanskrit                 150
+
+The Rajah's Ride                                       151
+
+
+TWO BOOKS FROM THE "ILIAD OF INDIA"                    159
+
+The Great Journey                                      172
+
+The Entry into Heaven                                  192
+
+THE NIGHT OF SLAUGHTER                                 210
+
+THE MORNING PRAYER                                     216
+
+
+PROVERBIAL WISDOM FROM THE SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA   221
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
+
+_INTRODUCTION._
+
+OM!
+
+REVERENCE TO GANESHA!
+
+
+    "The sky is clouded; and the wood resembles
+      The sky, thick-arched with black Tam�la boughs;
+    O Radha, Radha! take this Soul, that trembles
+      In life's deep midnight, to Thy golden house."
+    So Nanda spoke,--and, led by Radha's spirit,
+      The feet of Krishna found the road aright;
+    Wherefore, in bliss which all high hearts inherit,
+      Together taste they Love's divine delight.
+
+           _He who wrote these things for thee,
+            Of the Son of Wassoodee,
+            Was the poet Jayadeva;
+            Him Saraswati gave ever
+            Fancies fair his mind to throng,
+            Like pictures palace-walls along;
+            Ever to his notes of love
+            Lakshmi's mystic dancers move.
+            If thy spirit seeks to brood
+            On Hari glorious, Hari good;
+            If it feeds on solemn numbers.
+            Dim as dreams and soft as slumbers,
+            Lend thine ear to Jayadev,
+            Lord of all the spells that save.
+            Umapatidhara's strain
+            Glows like roses after rain;
+            Sharan's stream-like song is grand,
+            If its tide ye understand;
+            Bard more wise beneath the sun
+            Is not found than Govardhun;
+            Dhoyi holds the listener still
+            With his shlokes of subtle skill;
+            But for sweet words suited well
+            Jayadeva doth excel._
+
+
+
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ M�LAVA _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
+
+HYMN TO VISHNU
+
+
+    O thou that held'st the blessed Veda dry
+      When all things else beneath the floods were hurled;
+    Strong Fish-God! Ark of Men! _Jai!_ Hari, _jai!_
+      Hail, Keshav, hail! thou Master of the world!
+
+    The round world rested on thy spacious nape;
+      Upon thy neck, like a mere mole, it stood:
+    O thou that took'st for us the Tortoise-shape,
+      Hail, Keshav, hail! Ruler of wave and wood!
+
+    The world upon thy curving tusk sate sure,
+      Like the Moon's dark disc in her crescent pale;
+    O thou who didst for us assume the Boar,
+      Immortal Conqueror! hail, Keshav, hail!
+
+    When thou thy Giant-Foe didst seize and rend,
+      Fierce, fearful, long, and sharp were fang and nail;
+    Thou who the Lion and the Man didst blend,
+      Lord of the Universe! hail, Narsingh, hail!
+
+    Wonderful Dwarf!--who with a threefold stride
+      Cheated King Bali--where thy footsteps fall
+    Men's sins, O Wamuna! are set aside:
+      O Keshav, hail! thou Help and Hope of all!
+
+    The sins of this sad earth thou didst assoil,
+      The anguish of its creatures thou didst heal;
+    Freed are we from all terrors by thy toil:
+      Hail, Purshuram, hail! Lord of the biting steel!
+
+    To thee the fell Ten-Headed yielded life,
+      Thou in dread battle laid'st the monster low!
+    Ah, Rama! dear to Gods and men that strife;
+      We praise thee, Master of the matchless bow!
+
+    With clouds for garments glorious thou dost fare,
+      Veiling thy dazzling majesty and might,
+    As when Yamuna saw thee with the share,
+      A peasant--yet the King of Day and Night.
+
+    Merciful-hearted! when thou earnest as Boodh--
+      Albeit 'twas written in the Scriptures so--
+    Thou bad'st our altars be no more imbrued
+      With blood of victims: Keshav! bending low--
+
+    We praise thee, Wielder of the sweeping sword,
+      Brilliant as curving comets in the gloom,
+    Whose edge shall smite the fierce barbarian horde;
+      Hail to thee, Keshav! hail, and hear, and come,
+
+    And fill this song of Jayadev with thee,
+      And make it wise to teach, strong to redeem,
+    And sweet to living souls. Thou Mystery!
+      Thou Light of Life! Thou Dawn beyond the dream!
+
+            Fish! that didst outswim the flood;
+            Tortoise! whereon earth hath stood;
+            Boar! who with thy tush held'st high
+            The world, that mortals might not die;
+            Lion! who hast giants torn;
+            Dwarf! who laugh'dst a king to scorn;
+            Sole Subduer of the Dreaded!
+            Slayer of the many-headed!
+            Mighty Ploughman! Teacher tender!
+            Of thine own the sure Defender!
+            Under all thy ten disguises
+            Endless praise to thee arises.
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJAR� _and the Mode_ NIHS�RA.)
+
+     Endless praise arises,
+     O thou God that liest
+     Rapt, on Kumla's breast,
+     Happiest, holiest, highest!
+     Planets are thy jewels,
+     Stars thy forehead-gems,
+     Set like sapphires gleaming
+     In kingliest anadems;
+     Even the great gold Sun-God,
+     Blazing through the sky,
+     Serves thee but for crest-stone,
+    _Jai, jai!_ Hari, _jai!_
+     As that Lord of day
+     After night brings morrow,
+     Thou dost charm away
+     Life's long dream of sorrow.
+     As on Mansa's water
+     Brood the swans at rest,
+     So thy laws sit stately
+     On a holy breast.
+     O, Drinker of the poison!
+     Ah, high Delight of earth!
+     What light is to the lotus-buds,
+     What singing is to mirth,
+     Art thou--art thou that slayedst
+     Madhou and Narak grim;
+     That ridest on the King of Birds,
+     Making all glories dim.
+     With eyes like open lotus-flowers,
+     Bright in the morning rain,
+     Freeing by one swift piteous glance
+     The spirit from Life's pain:
+     Of all the three Worlds Treasure!
+     Of sin the Putter-by!
+     O'er the Ten-Headed Victor!
+    _Jai_ Hari! Hari! _jai!_
+     Thou Shaker of the Mountain!
+     Thou Shadow of the Storm!
+     Thou Cloud that unto Lakshmi's face
+     Comes welcome, white, and warm!
+     O thou,--who to great Lakshmi
+     Art like the silvery beam
+     Which moon-sick chakors feed upon
+     By Jumna's silent stream,--
+     To thee this hymn ascendeth,
+     That Jayadev doth sing,
+     Of worship, love, and mystery
+     High Lord and Heavenly King!
+     And unto whoso hears it
+     Do thou a blessing bring--
+     Whose neck is gilt with yellow dust
+     From lilies that did cling
+     Beneath the breasts of Lakshmi,
+     A girdle soft and sweet,
+     When in divine embracing
+     The lips of Gods did meet;
+     And the beating heart above
+     Of thee--Dread Lord of Heaven!--
+     She left that stamp of love--
+     By such deep sign be given
+     Prays Jayadev, the glory
+     And the secret and the spells
+     Which close-hid in this story
+     Unto wise ears he tells.
+
+
+END OF INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE FIRST._
+
+SAMODADAMODARO.
+
+THE SPORTS OF KRISHNA.
+
+
+          Beautiful Radha, jasmine-bosomed Radha,
+          All in the Spring-time waited by the wood
+          For Krishna fair, Krishna the all-forgetful,--
+          Krishna with earthly love's false fire consuming--
+          And some one of her maidens sang this song:--
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ VASANTA _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    I know where Krishna tarries in these early days of Spring,
+    When every wind from warm Malay brings fragrance on its wing;
+    Brings fragrance stolen far away from thickets of the clove,
+    In jungles where the bees hum and the Koil flutes her love;
+    He dances with the dancers of a merry morrice one,
+    All in the budding Spring-time, for 'tis sad to be alone.
+
+    I know how Krishna passes these hours of blue and gold
+    When parted lovers sigh to meet and greet and closely hold
+    Hand fast in hand; and every branch upon the Vakul-tree
+    Droops downward with a hundred blooms, in every bloom a bee;
+    He is dancing with the dancers to a laughter-moving tone,
+    In the soft awakening Spring-time, when 'tis hard to live alone.
+
+    Where Kroona-flowers, that open at a lover's lightest tread,
+    Break, and, for shame at what they hear, from white blush modest red;
+    And all the spears on all the boughs of all the Ketuk-glades
+    Seem ready darts to pierce the hearts of wandering youths and maids;
+    Tis there thy Krishna dances till the merry drum is done,
+    All in the sunny Spring-time, when who can live alone?
+
+    Where the breaking forth of blossom on the yellow Keshra-sprays
+    Dazzles like Kama's sceptre, whom all the world obeys;
+    And P�tal-buds fill drowsy bees from pink delicious bowls,
+    As Kama's nectared goblet steeps in languor human souls;
+    There he dances with the dancers, and of Radha thinketh none,
+    All in the warm new Spring-tide, when none will live alone.
+
+    Where the breath of waving M�dhvi pours incense through the grove,
+    And silken Mogras lull the sense with essences of love,--
+    The silken-soft pale Mogra, whose perfume fine and faint
+    Can melt the coldness of a maid, the sternness of a saint--
+    There dances with those dancers thine other self, thine Own,
+    All in the languorous Spring-time, when none will live alone.
+
+    Where--as if warm lips touched sealed eyes and waked them--all the
+        bloom
+    Opens upon the mangoes to feel the sunshine come;
+    And Atimuktas wind their arms of softest green about,
+    Clasping the stems, while calm and clear great Jumna spreadeth out;
+    There dances and there laughs thy Love, with damsels many an one,
+    In the rosy days of Spring-time, for he will not live alone.
+
+           _Mark this song of Jayadev!
+            Deep as pearl in ocean-wave
+            Lurketh in its lines a wonder
+            Which the wise alone will ponder:
+            Though it seemeth of the earth.
+            Heavenly is the music's birth;
+            Telling darkly of delights
+            In the wood, of wasted nights,
+            Of witless days, and fruitless love,
+            And false pleasures of the grove,
+            And rash passions of the prime,
+            And those dances of Spring-time;
+            Time, which seems so subtle-sweet,
+            Time, which pipes to dancing-feet,
+            Ah! so softly--ah! so sweetly--
+            That among those wood-maids featly
+            Krishna cannot choose but dance,
+            Letting pass life's greater chance._
+
+      Yet the winds that sigh so
+        As they stir the rose,
+      Wake a sigh from Krishna
+        Wistfuller than those;
+      All their faint breaths swinging
+        The creepers to and fro
+      Pass like rustling arrows
+        Shot from Kama's bow:
+      Thus among the dancers
+        What those zephyrs bring
+      Strikes to Krishna's spirit
+        Like a darted sting.
+
+      And all as if--far wandered--
+        The traveller should hear
+      The bird of home, the Koil,
+        With nest-notes rich and clear;
+      And there should come one moment
+        A blessed fleeting dream
+      Of the bees among the mangoes
+        Beside his native stream;
+      So flash those sudden yearnings,
+        That sense of a dearer thing,
+      The love and lack of Radha
+        Upon his soul in Spring.
+
+    Then she, the maid of Radha, spake again;
+    And pointing far away between the leaves
+    Guided her lovely Mistress where to look,
+    And note how Krishna wantoned in the wood
+    Now with this one, now that; his heart, her prize,
+    Panting with foolish passions, and his eyes
+    Beaming with too much love for those fair girls--
+    Fair, but not so as Radha; and she sang:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ R�MAGIR� _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    See, Lady! how thy Krishna passes these idle hours
+    Decked forth in fold of woven gold, and crowned with forest-flowers;
+    And scented with the sandal, and gay with gems of price--
+    Rubies to mate his laughing lips, and diamonds like his, eyes;--
+    In the company of damsels,[1] who dance and sing and play,
+    Lies Krishna, laughing, toying, dreaming his Spring away.
+
+[Footnote 1: It will be observed that the "Gopis" here personify the
+five senses. Lassen says, "_Manifestum est puellis istis nil aliud
+significar quam res sensiles_."]
+
+    One, with star-blossomed champ�k wreathed, wooes him to rest his head
+    On the dark pillow of her breast so tenderly outspread;
+    And o'er his brow with, roses blown she fans a fragrance rare,
+    That falls on the enchanted sense like rain in thirsty air,
+    While the company of damsels wave many an odorous spray,
+    And Krishna, laughing, toying, sighs the soft Spring away.
+
+    Another, gazing in his face, sits wistfully apart,
+    Searching it with those looks of love that leap from heart to heart;
+    Her eyes--afire with shy desire, veiled by their lashes black--
+    Speak so that Krishna cannot choose but send the message back,
+    In the company of damsels whose bright eyes in a ring
+    Shine round him with soft meanings in the merry light of Spring.
+
+    The third one of that dazzling band of dwellers in the wood--
+    Body and bosom panting with the pulse of youthful blood--
+    Leans over him, as in his ear a lightsome thing to speak,
+    And then with leaf-soft lip imprints a kiss below his cheek;
+    A kiss that thrills, and Krishna turns at the silken touch
+    To give it back--ah, Radha! forgetting thee too much.
+
+    And one with arch smile beckons him away from Jumna's banks,
+    Where the tall bamboos bristle like spears in battle-ranks,
+    And plucks his cloth to make him come into the mango-shade,
+    Where the fruit is ripe and golden, and the milk and cakes are laid:
+    Oh! golden-red the mangoes, and glad the feasts of Spring,
+    And fair the flowers to lie upon, and sweet the dancers sing.
+
+    Sweetest of all that Temptress who dances for him now
+    With subtle feet which part and meet in the R�s-measure slow,
+    To the chime of silver bangles and the beat of rose-leaf hands,
+    And pipe and lute and cymbal played by the woodland bands;
+    So that wholly passion-laden--eye, ear, sense, soul o'ercome--
+    Krishna is theirs in the forest; his heart forgets its home.
+
+           _Krishna, made for heavenly things,
+            'Mid those woodland singers sings;
+            With those dancers dances featly,
+            Gives back soft embraces sweetly;
+            Smiles on that one, toys with this,
+            Glance for glance and kiss for kiss;
+            Meets the merry damsels fairly,
+            Plays the round of folly rarely,
+            Lapped in milk-warm spring-time weather,
+            He and those brown girls together._
+
+            _And this shadowed earthly love
+            In the twilight of the grove,
+            Dance and song and soft caresses,
+            Meeting looks and tangled tresses,
+            Jayadev the same hath writ,
+            That ye might have gain of it,
+            Sagely its deep sense conceiving
+            And its inner light believing;
+            How that Love--the mighty Master,
+            Lord of all the stars that cluster
+            In the sky, swiftest and slowest,
+            Lord of highest, Lord of lowest--
+            Manifests himself to mortals,
+            Winning them towards the portals
+            Of his secret House, the gates
+            Of that bright Paradise which waits
+            The wise in love. Ah, human creatures!
+            Even your phantasies are teachers.
+            Mighty Love makes sweet in seeming
+            Even Krishna's woodland dreaming;
+            Mighty Love sways all alike
+            From self to selflessness. Oh! strike
+            From your eyes the veil, and see
+            What Love willeth Him to be
+            Who in error, but in grace,
+            Sitteth with that lotus-face,
+            And those eyes whose rays of heaven
+            Unto phantom-eyes are given;_
+           _Holding feasts of foolish mirth
+            With these Visions of the earth;
+            Learning love, and love imparting;
+            Yet with sense of loss upstarting:--_
+
+            _For the cloud that veils the fountains
+            Underneath the Sandal mountains,
+            How--as if the sunshine drew
+            All its being to the blue--
+            It takes flight, and seeks to rise
+            High into the purer skies,
+            High into the snow and frost,
+            On the shining summits lost!
+            Ah! and how the Koil's strain
+            Smites the traveller with pain,--
+            When the mango blooms in spring,
+            And "Koohoo," "Koohoo," they sing--
+            Pain of pleasures not yet won,
+            Pain of journeys not yet done,
+            Pain of toiling without gaining,
+            Pain, 'mid gladness, of still paining._
+
+    But may He guide us all to glory high
+    Who laughed when Radha glided, hidden, by,
+    And all among those damsels free and bold
+    Touched Krishna with a soft mouth, kind and cold;
+    And like the others, leaning on his breast,
+    Unlike the others, left there Love's unrest;
+    And like the others, joining in his song,
+    Unlike the others, made him silent long.
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the G�ta Govinda entitled_
+SAMODADAMODARO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE SECOND._
+
+KLESHAKESHAVO.
+
+THE PENITENCE OF KRISHNA.
+
+
+    Thus lingered Krishna in the deep, green wood,
+    And gave himself, too prodigal, to those;
+    But Radha, heart-sick at his falling-off,
+    Seeing her heavenly beauty slighted so,
+    Withdrew; and, in a bower of Paradise--
+    Where nectarous blossoms wove a shrine of shade,
+    Haunted by birds and bees of unknown skies--
+    She sate deep-sorrowful, and sang this strain,
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJAR� _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    Ah, my Beloved! taken with those glances,
+    Ah, my Beloved! dancing those rash dances,
+      Ah, Minstrel! playing wrongful strains so well;
+    Ah, Krishna! Krishna with the honeyed lip!
+    Ah, Wanderer into foolish fellowship!
+      My Dancer, my Delight!--I love thee still.
+
+    O Dancer! strip thy peacock-crown away,
+    Rise! thou whose forehead is the star of day,
+      With beauty for its silver halo set;
+    Come! thou whose greatness gleams beneath its shroud
+    Like Indra's rainbow shining through the cloud--
+      Come, for I love thee, my Beloved! yet.
+
+    Must love thee--cannot choose but love thee ever,
+    My best Beloved--set on this endeavor,
+      To win thy tender heart and earnest eye
+    From lips but sadly sweet, from restless bosoms,
+    To mine, O Krishna with the mouth of blossoms!
+      To mine, thou soul of Krishna! yet I sigh
+
+    Half hopeless, thinking of myself forsaken,
+    And thee, dear Loiterer, in the wood o'ertaken
+      With passion for those bold and wanton ones,
+    Who knit thine arms as poison-plants gripe trees
+    With twining cords--their flowers the braveries
+      That flash in the green gloom, sparkling stars and stones.
+
+    My Prince! my Lotus-faced! my woe! my love!
+    Whose broad brow, with the tilka-spot above,
+      Shames the bright moon at full with fleck of cloud;
+    Thou to mistake so little for so much!
+    Thou, Krishna, to be palm to palm with such!
+      O Soul made for my joys, pure, perfect, proud!
+
+    Ah, my Beloved! in thy darkness dear;
+    Ah, Dancer! with the jewels in thine ear,
+      Swinging to music of a loveless love;
+    O my Beloved! in thy fall so high
+    That angels, sages, spirits of the sky
+      Linger about thee, watching in the grove.
+
+    I will be patient still, and draw thee ever,
+    My one Beloved, sitting by the river
+      Under the thick kadambas with that throng:
+    Will there not come an end to earthly madness?
+    Shall I not, past the sorrow, have the gladness?
+      Must not the love-light shine for him ere long?
+
+           _Shine, thou Light by Radha given,
+            Shine, thou splendid star of heaven!
+            Be a lamp to Krishna's feet,
+            Show to all hearts secrets sweet,
+            Of the wonder and the love
+            Jayadev hath writ above.
+            Be the quick Interpreter
+            Unto wisest ears of her
+            Who always sings to all, "I wait,
+            He loveth still who loveth late."_
+
+    For (sang on that high Lady in the shade)
+    My soul for tenderness, not blame, was made;
+      Mine eyes look through his evil to his good;
+    My heart coins pleas for him; my fervent thought
+    Prevents what he will say when these are naught,
+      And that which I am shall be understood.
+
+    Then spake she to her maiden wistfully--
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ M�LAVAGAUDA _and the Mode_ EKAT�L�.)
+
+    Go to him,--win him hither,--whisper low
+      How he may find me if he searches well;
+    Say, if he will--joys past his hope to know
+      Await him here; go now to him, and tell
+    Where Radha is, and that henceforth she charms
+                     His spirit to her arms.
+
+    Yes, go! say, if he will, that he may come--
+      May come, my love, my longing, my desire;
+    May come forgiven, shriven, to me his home,
+      And make his happy peace; nay, and aspire
+    To uplift Radha's veil, and learn at length
+                     What love is in its strength.
+
+    Lead him; say softly I shall chide his blindness,
+      And vex him with my angers; yet add this,
+    He shall not vainly sue for loving-kindness,
+      Nor miss to see me close, nor lose the bliss
+    That lives upon my lip, nor be denied
+                     The rose-throne at my side.
+
+    Say that I--Radha--in my bower languish
+      All widowed, till he find the way to me;
+    Say that mine eyes are dim, my breast all anguish,
+      Until with gentle murmured shame I see
+    His steps come near, his anxious pleading face
+                     Bend for my pardoning grace.
+
+    While I--what, did he deem light loves so tender,
+      To tarry for them when the vow was made
+    To yield him up my bosom's maiden splendour,
+      And fold him in my fragrance, and unbraid
+    My shining hair for him, and clasp him close
+                     To the gold heart of his Rose?
+
+    And sing him strains which only spirits know,
+      And make him captive with the silk-soft chain
+    Of twinned-wings brooding round him, and bestow
+      Kisses of Paradise, as pure as rain;
+    My gems, my moonlight-pearls, my girdle-gold,
+                     Cymbaling music bold?
+
+    While gained for ever, I shall dare to grow
+      Life to life with him, in the realms divine;
+    And--Love's large cup at happy overflow,
+      Yet ever to be filled--his eyes and mine
+    Will meet in that glad look, when Time's great gate
+                     Closes and shuts out Fate.
+
+           _Listen to the unsaid things
+            Of the song that Radha sings,
+            For the soul draws near to bliss,
+            As it comprehendeth this.
+            I am Jayadev, who write
+            All this subtle-rich delight
+            For your teaching. Ponder, then,
+            What it tells to Gods and men.
+            Err not, watching Krishna gay,
+            With those brown girls all at play;
+            Understand how Radha charms
+            Her wandering lover to her arms,
+            Waiting with divinest love
+            Till his dream ends in the grove._
+
+    For even now (she sang) I see him pause,
+      Heart-stricken with the waste of heart he makes
+    Amid them;--all the bows of their bent brows
+      Wound him no more: no more for all their sakes
+    Plays he one note upon his amorous lute,
+                     But lets the strings lie mute.
+
+    Pensive, as if his parted lips should say--
+
+      "My feet with the dances are weary,
+        The music has dropped from the song,
+      There is no more delight in the lute-strings,
+        Sweet Shadows! what thing has gone wrong?
+      The wings of the wind have left fanning
+        The palms of the glade;
+      They are dead, and the blossoms seem dying
+        In the place where we played.
+
+      "We will play no more, beautiful Shadows!
+        A fancy came solemn and sad,
+      More sweet, with unspeakable longings,
+        Than the best of the pleasures we had:
+      I am not now the Krishna who kissed you;
+        That exquisite dream,--
+      The Vision I saw in my dancing--
+        Has spoiled what you seem.
+
+    "Ah! delicate phantoms that cheated
+      With eyes that looked lasting and true,
+    I awake,--I have seen her,--my angel--
+      Farewell to the wood and to you!
+    Oh, whisper of wonderful pity!
+      Oh, fair face that shone!
+    Though thou be a vision, Divinest!
+     This vision is done."
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the G�ta Govinda entitled_
+KLESHAKESHAVO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE THIRD._
+
+MUGDHAMADHUSUDANO.
+
+KRISHNA TROUBLED.
+
+
+    Thereat,--as one who welcomes to her throne
+    A new-made Queen, and brings before it bound
+    Her enemies,--so Krishna in his heart
+    Throned Radha; and--all treasonous follies chained--
+    He played no more with those first play-fellows:
+    But, searching through the shadows of the grove
+    For loveliest Radha,--when he found her not,
+    Faint with the quest, despairing, lonely, lorn,
+    And pierced with shame for wasted love and days,
+    He sate by Jumna, where the canes are thick,
+    And sang to the wood-echoes words like these:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJAR� _and to the Mode_ YATI)
+
+    Radha, Enchantress! Radha, queen of all!
+      Gone--lost, because she found me sinning here;
+    And I so stricken with my foolish fall,
+      I could not stay her out of shame and fear;
+                                She will not hear;
+      In her disdain and grief vainly I call.
+
+    And if she heard, what would she do? what say?
+      How could I make it good that I forgot?
+    What profit was it to me, night and day,
+      To live, love, dance, and dream, having her not?
+                                Soul without spot!
+    I wronged thy patience, till it sighed away.
+
+    Sadly I know the truth. Ah! even now
+      Remembering that one look beside the river,
+    Softer the vexed eyes seem, and the proud brow
+      Than lotus-leaves when the bees make them quiver.
+                                My love for ever!
+    Too late is Krishna wise--too far art thou!
+
+    Yet all day long in my deep heart I woo thee,
+      And all night long with thee my dreams are sweet;
+    Why, then, so vainly must my steps pursue thee?
+      Why can I never reach thee, to entreat,
+                                Low at thy feet,
+    Dear vanished Splendour! till my tears subdue thee?
+
+    Surpassing One! I knew thou didst not brook
+      Half-hearted worship, and a love that wavers;
+    Haho! there is the wisdom I mistook,
+      Therefore I seek with desperate endeavours;
+                                That fault dissevers
+    Me from my heaven, astray--condemned--forsook!
+
+    And yet I seem to feel, to know, thee near me;
+      Thy steps make music, measured music, near:
+    Radha! my Radha! will not sorrow clear me?
+      Shine once! speak one word pitiful and dear!
+                                Wilt thou not hear?
+    Canst thou--because I did forget--forsake me?
+
+    Forgive! the sin is sinned, is past, is over;
+      No thought I think shall do thee wrong again;
+    Turn thy dark eyes again upon thy lover
+      Bright Spirit! or I perish of this pain.
+                                Loving again!
+    In dread of doom to love, but not recover.
+
+           _So did Krishna sing and sigh
+            By the river-bank; and I,
+            Jayadev of Kinduvilva,
+            Resting--as the moon of silver
+            Sits upon the solemn ocean--
+            On full faith, in deep devotion;
+            Tell it that ye may perceive
+            How the heart must fret and grieve;
+            How the soul doth tire of earth,
+            When the love from Heav'n hath birth._
+
+    For (sang he on) I am no foe of thine,
+      There is no black snake, Kama! in my hair;
+    Blue lotus-bloom, and not the poisoned brine,
+      Shadows my neck; what stains my bosom bare,
+                                Thou God unfair!
+    Is sandal-dust, not ashes; nought of mine.
+
+    Makes me like Shiva that thou, Lord of Love!
+      Shouldst strain thy string at me and fit thy dart;
+    This world is thine--let be one breast thereof
+      Which bleeds already, wounded to the heart
+                                With lasting smart,
+    Shot from those brows that did my sin reprove.
+
+    Thou gavest her those black brows for a bow
+      Arched like thine own, whose pointed arrows seem
+    Her glances, and the underlids that go--
+      So firm and fine--its string? Ah, fleeting gleam!
+                                Beautiful dream!
+    Small need of Kama's help hast thou, I trow,
+
+    To smite me to the soul with love;--but set
+      Those arrows to their silken cord! enchain
+    My thoughts in that loose hair! let thy lips, wet
+      With dew of heaven as bimba-buds with rain,
+                                Bloom precious pain
+    Of longing in my heart; and, keener yet,
+
+    The heaving of thy lovely, angry bosom,
+      Pant to my spirit things unseen, unsaid;
+    But if thy touch, thy tones, if the dark blossom
+      Of thy dear face, thy jasmine-odours shed
+                                From feet to head,
+    If these be all with me, canst thou be far--be fled?
+
+    _So sang he, and I pray that whoso hears
+    The music of his burning hopes and fears,
+    That whoso sees this vision by the River
+    Of Krishna, Hari, (can we name him ever?)
+    And marks his ear-ring rubies swinging slow,
+    As he sits still, unheedful, bending low
+    To play this tune upon his lute, while all
+    Listen to catch the sadness musical;
+    And Krishna wotteth nought, but, with set face
+    Turned full toward Radha's, sings on in that place;
+    May all such souls--prays Jayadev--be wise
+    To lean the wisdom which hereunder lies._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the G�ta Govinda entitled_
+MUGDHAMADHUSUDANO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE FOURTH._
+
+SNIGDHAMADHUSUDANO.
+
+KRISHNA CHEERED.
+
+
+    Then she whom Radha sent came to the canes--
+    The canes beside the river where he lay
+    With listless limbs and spirit weak from love;--
+    And she sang this to Krishna wistfully:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ KARN�TA _and the Mode_ EKAT�L�.)
+
+    Art thou sick for Radha? she is sad in turn,
+      Heaven foregoes its blessings, if it holds not thee,
+    All the cooling fragrance of sandal she doth spurn,
+      Moonlight makes her mournful with radiance silvery;
+    Even the southern breeze blown fresh from pearly seas,
+      Seems to her but tainted by a dolorous brine;
+    And for thy sake discontented, with a great love overladen,
+      Her soul comes here beside thee, and sitteth down with thine.
+
+    Her soul comes here beside thee, and tenderly and true
+      It weaves a subtle mail of proof to ward off sin and pain;
+    A breastplate soft as lotus-leaf, with holy tears for dew,
+      To guard thee from the things that hurt; and then 'tis gone again
+    To strew a blissful place with the richest buds that grace
+      Kama's sweet world, a meeting-spot with rose and jasmine fair,
+    For the hour when, well-contented, with a love no longer troubled,
+      Thou shalt find the way to Radha, and finish sorrows there.
+
+    But now her lovely face is shadowed by her fears;
+      Her glorious eyes are veiled and dim like moonlight in eclipse
+    By breaking rain-clouds, Krishna! yet she paints you in her tears
+      With tender thoughts--not Krishna, but brow and breast and lips
+    And form and mien a King, a great and godlike thing;
+      And then with bended head she asks grace from the Love Divine,
+    To keep thee discontented with the phantoms thou forswearest,
+      Till she may win her glory, and thou be raised to thine.
+
+            Softly now she sayeth,
+              "Krishna, Krishna, come!"
+            Lovingly she prayeth,
+              "Fair moon, light him home."
+            Yet if Hari helps not,
+              Moonlight cannot aid;
+            Ah! the woeful Radha!
+              Ah! the forest shade!
+
+            Ah! if Hari guide not,
+              Moonlight is as gloom;
+            Ah! if moonlight help not,
+              How shall Krishna come?
+            Sad for Krishna grieving
+              In the darkened grove;
+            Sad for Radha weaving
+              Dreams of fruitless love!
+
+       _Strike soft strings to this soft measure,
+        If thine ear would catch its treasure;
+        Slowly dance to this deep song,
+        Let its meaning float along
+        With grave paces, since it tells
+        Of a love that sweetly dwells
+        In a tender distant glory,
+        Past all faults of mortal story._
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ DESH�GA _and the Mode_ EKAT�L�.)
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, faint she lies with love and fear;
+    Even the jewels of her necklet seem a load too great to bear.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, all the sandal and the flowers
+    Vex her with their pure perfection though they grow in heavenly bowers.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, fair albeit those bowers may be,
+    Passion burns her, and love's fire fevers her for lack of thee.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, those divine lids, dark and tender,
+    Droop like lotus-leaves in rain-storms, dashed and heavy in their
+        splendour.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, that rose-couch which she hath spread
+    Saddens with its empty place, its double pillow for one head.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, from her palms she will not lift
+    The dark face hidden deep within them like the moon in cloudy rift.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, angel though she be, thy Love
+    Sighs and suffers, waits and watches--joyless 'mid those joys above.
+
+    Krishna, till them come unto her, with the comfort of thy kiss
+    Deeper than thy loss, O Krishna! must be loss of Radha's bliss.
+
+    Krishna, while thou didst forget her--her, thy life, thy gentle fate--
+    Wonderful her waiting was, her pity sweet, her patience great.
+
+    Krishna, come! 'tis grief untold to grieve her--shame to let her sigh;
+    Come, for she is sick with love, and thou her only remedy.
+
+           _So she sang, and Jayadeva
+            Prays for all, and prays for ever.
+            That Great Hari may bestow
+            Utmost bliss of loving so
+            On us all;--that one who wore
+            The herdsman's form, and heretofore,
+            To save the shepherd's threatened flock,
+            Up from the earth reared the huge rock--
+            Bestow it with a gracious hand,
+            Albeit, amid the woodland band,
+            Clinging close in fond caresses
+            Krishna gave them ardent kisses,
+            Taking on his lips divine
+            Earthly stamp and woodland sign._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the G�ta Govinda entitled_
+SNIGDHAMADHUSUDANO).
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE FIFTH._
+
+SAKANDKSHAPUNDARIKAKSHO.
+
+THE LONGINGS OF KRISHNA.
+
+
+    "Say I am here! oh, if she pardons me,
+    Say where I am, and win her softly hither."
+    So Krishna to the maid; and willingly
+    She came again to Radha, and she sang:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ DESHIVAR�D� _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
+
+    Low whispers the wind from Malaya
+      Overladen with love;
+    On the hills all the grass is burned yellow;
+      And the trees in the grove
+    Droop with tendrils that mock by their clinging
+      The thoughts of the parted;
+    And there lies, sore-sighing for thee,
+      Thy love, altered-hearted.
+
+    To him the moon's icy-chill silver
+      Is a sun at midday;
+    The fever he burns with is deeper
+      Than starlight can stay:
+    Like one who falls stricken by arrows,
+      With the colour departed
+    From all but his red wounds, so lies
+      Thy love, bleeding-hearted.
+
+    To the music the banded bees make him
+      He closeth his ear;
+    In the blossoms their small horns are blowing
+      The honey-song clear;
+    But as if every sting to his bosom
+      Its smart had imparted,
+    Low lies by the edge of the river,
+      Thy love, aching-hearted.
+
+    By the edge of the river, far wandered
+      From his once beloved bowers,
+    And the haunts of his beautiful playmates,
+      And the beds strewn with flowers;
+    Now thy name is his playmate--that only!--
+      And the hard rocks upstarted
+    From the sand make the couch where he lies,
+      Thy Krishna, sad-hearted.
+
+           _Oh may Hari fill each soul,
+            As these gentle verses roll
+            Telling of the anguish borne
+            By kindred ones asunder torn!
+            Oh may Hari unto each
+            All the lore of loving teach,
+            All the pain and all the bliss;
+            Jayadeva prayeth this!_
+
+    Yea, Lady! in the self-same spot he waits
+    Where with thy kiss thou taught'st him utmost love,
+    And drew him, as none else draws, with thy look;
+    And all day long, and all night long, his cry
+    Is "Radha, Radha," like a spell said o'er:
+
+    And in his heart there lives no wish nor hope
+    Save only this, to slake his spirit's thirst
+    For Radha's love with Radha's lips; and find
+    Peace on the immortal beauty of thy breast.
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJAR� _and the Mode_ EKAT�L�.)
+
+    Mistress, sweet and bright and holy!
+      Meet him in that place;
+    Change his cheerless melancholy
+      Into joy and grace;
+    If thou hast forgiven, vex not;
+      If thou lovest, go,
+    Watching ever by the river,
+      Krishna listens low:
+
+    Listens low, and on his reed there
+      Softly sounds thy name,
+    Making even mute things plead there
+      For his hope: 'tis shame
+    That, while winds are welcome to him,
+      If from thee they blow,
+    Mournful ever by the river
+      Krishna waits thee so!
+
+    When a bird's wing stirs the roses,
+      When a leaf falls dead,
+    Twenty times he recomposes
+      The flower-seat he has spread:
+    Twenty times, with anxious glances
+      Seeking thee in vain,
+    Sighing ever by the river,
+      Krishna droops again.
+
+    Loosen from thy foot the bangle,
+      Lest its golden bell,
+    With a tiny, tattling jangle,
+      Any false tale tell:
+    If thou fearest that the moonlight
+      Will thy glad face know,
+    Draw those dark braids lower, Lady!
+      But to Krishna go.
+
+    Swift and still as lightning's splendour
+      Let thy beauty come,
+    Sudden, gracious, dazzling, tender,
+      To his arms--its home.
+    Swift as Indra's yellow lightning,
+      Shining through the night,
+    Glide to Krishna's lonely bosom,
+      Take him love and light.
+
+    Grant, at last, love's utmost measure,
+      Giving, give the whole;
+    Keep back nothing of the treasure
+      Of thy priceless soul:
+    Hold with both hands out unto him
+      Thy chalice, let him drain
+    The nectar of its dearest draught,
+      Till not a wish remain.
+
+    Only go--the stars are setting,
+      And thy Krishna grieves;
+    Doubt and anger quite forgetting,
+      Hasten through the leaves:
+    Wherefore didst thou lead him heav'nward
+      But for this thing's sake?
+    Comfort him with pity, Radha!
+      Or his heart must break.
+
+            _But while Jayadeva writes
+            This rare tale of deep delights--
+            Jayadev, whose heart is given
+            Unto Hari, Lord in Heaven--
+            See that ye too, as ye read,
+            With a glad and humble heed,
+            Bend your brows before His face,
+            That ye may have bliss and grace._
+
+    And then the Maid, compassionate, sang on--
+
+                Lady, most sweet!
+                For thy coming feet
+    He listens in the wood, with love sore-tried;
+                Faintly sighing,
+                Like one a-dying,
+    He sends his thoughts afoot to meet his bride.
+
+                Ah, silent one!
+                Sunk is the sun,
+    The darkness falls as deep as Krishna's sorrow;
+                The chakor's strain
+                Is not more vain
+    Than mine, and soon gray dawn will bring white morrow.
+
+                And thine own bliss
+                Delays by this;
+    The utmost of thy heaven comes only so
+                When, with hearts beating
+                And passionate greeting,
+    Parting is over, and the parted grow.
+
+                One--one for ever!
+                And the old endeavour
+    To be so blended is assuaged at last;
+                And the glad tears raining
+                Have nought remaining
+    Of doubt or 'plaining; and the dread has passed.
+
+                Out of each face,
+                In the close embrace,
+    That by-and-by embracing will be over;
+                The ache that causes
+                Those mournful pauses
+    In bowers of earth between lover and lover:
+
+                To be no more felt,
+                To fade, to melt
+    In the strong certainty of joys immortal;
+                In the glad meeting,
+                And quick sweet greeting
+    Of lips that close beyond Time's shadowy portal.
+
+                And to thee is given,
+                Angel of Heaven!
+    This glory and this joy with Krishna. Go!
+                Let him attain,
+                For his long pain,
+    The prize it promised,--see thee coming slow,
+
+                A vision first, but then--
+                By glade and glen--
+    A lovely, loving soul, true to its home;
+                His Queen--his Crown--his All,
+                Hast'ning at last to fall
+    Upon his breast, and live there. Radha, come!
+
+            _Come! and come thou, Lord of all,
+            Unto whom the Three Worlds call;
+            Thou, that didst in angry might,
+            Kansa, like a comet, smite;
+            Thou, that in thy passion tender,
+            As incarnate spell and splendour,
+            Hung on Radha's glorious face--
+            In the garb of Krishna's grace--
+            As above the bloom the bee,
+            When the honeyed revelry
+            Is too subtle-sweet an one
+            Not to hang and dally on;
+            Thou that art the Three Worlds' glory,
+            Of life the light, of every story
+            The meaning and the mark, of love
+            The root and, flower, o' the sky above
+            The blue, of bliss the heart, of those,
+            The lovers, that which did impose
+            The gentle law, that each should be
+            The other's Heav'n and harmony._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the G�ta Govinda entitled_
+SAKANDKSILAPUNDARIKAKSHO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE SIXTH._
+
+DHRISHTAVAIKUNTO.
+
+KRISHNA MADE BOLDER.
+
+
+    But seeing that, for all her loving will,
+    The flower-soft feet of Radha had not power
+    To leave their place and go, she sped again--
+    That maiden--and to Krishna's eager ears
+    Told how it fared with his sweet mistress there.
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GONDAKIR� _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
+
+    Krishna! 'tis thou must come, (she sang)
+      Ever she waits thee in heavenly bower;
+    The lotus seeks not the wandering bee,
+      The bee must find the flower.
+
+    All the wood over her deep eyes roam,
+      Marvelling sore where tarries the bee,
+    Who leaves such lips of nectar unsought
+      As those that blossom for thee.
+
+    Her steps would fail if she tried to come,
+      Would falter and fail, with yearning weak;
+    At the first of the road they would falter and pause,
+      And the way is strange to seek.
+
+    Find her where she is sitting, then,
+      With lotus-blossom on ankle and arm
+    Wearing thine emblems, and musing of nought
+      But the meeting to be--glad, warm.
+
+    To be--"but wherefore tarrieth he?"
+      "What can stay or delay him?--go!
+    See if the soul of Krishna comes,"
+      Ten times she sayeth to me so;
+
+    Ten times lost in a languorous swoon,
+      "Now he cometh--he cometh," she cries;
+    And a love-look lightens her eyes in the gloom,
+      And the darkness is sweet with her sighs.
+
+    Till, watching in vain, she glideth again
+      Under the shade of the whispering leaves;
+    With a heart too full of its love at last
+      To heed how her bosom heaves.
+
+          _Shall not these fair verses swell
+          The number of the wise who dwell
+          In the realm of Kama's bliss?
+          Jayadeva prayeth this,
+          Jayadev, the bard of Love,
+          Servant of the Gods above._
+
+    For all so strong in Heaven itself
+      Is Love, that Radha sits drooping there,
+    Her beautiful bosoms panting with thought,
+      And the braids drawn back from her ear.
+
+    And--angel albeit--her rich lips breathe
+      Sighs, if sighs were ever so sweet;
+    And--if spirits can tremble--she trembles now
+      From forehead to jewelled feet.
+
+    And her voice of music sinks to a sob,
+      And her eyes, like eyes of a mated roe,
+    Are tender with looks of yielded love,
+      With dreams dreamed long ago;
+
+    Long--long ago, but soon to grow truth,
+      To end, and be waking and certain and true;
+    Of which dear surety murmur her lips,
+      As the lips of sleepers do:
+
+    And, dreaming, she loosens her girdle-pearls,
+      And opens her arms to the empty air,
+    Then starts, if a leaf of the champ�k falls,
+      Sighing, "O leaf! Is he there?"
+
+    Why dost thou linger in this dull spot,
+      Haunted by serpents and evil for thee?
+    Why not hasten to Nanda's House?
+      It is plain, if thine eyes could see.
+
+        _May these words of high endeavour--
+        Full of grace and gentle favour--
+        Find out those whose hearts can feel
+        What the message did reveal,
+        Words that Radha's messenger
+        Unto Krishna took from her,
+        Slowly guiding him to come
+        Through the forest to his home,
+        Guiding him to find the road
+        Which led--though long--to Love's abode._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the G�ta Govinda entitled_
+DHRISHTAVAIKUNTO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE SEVENTH._
+
+VIPRALABDHAVARNANE NAGARANARAYANO.
+
+KRISHNA SUPPOSED FALSE.
+
+
+    Meantime the moon, the rolling moon, clomb high,
+    And over all Vrind�vana it shone;
+    The moon which on the front of gentle night
+    Gleams like the chundun-mark on beauty's brow;
+    The conscious moon which hath its silver face
+    Marred with the shame of lighting earthly loves:
+
+      And while the round white lamp of earth rose higher,
+    And still he tarried, Radha, petulant,
+    Sang soft impatience and half-earnest fears:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ M�LAVA _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    'Tis time!--he comes not!--will he come?
+      Can he leave me thus to pine?
+    _Yami h� kam sharanam!_
+      Ah! what refuge then is mine?
+
+    For his sake I sought the wood,
+      Threaded dark and devious ways;
+    _Yami h� kam sharanam!_
+      Can it be Krishna betrays?
+
+    Let me die then, and forget
+      Anguish, patience, hope, and fear;
+    _Yami h� kam sharanam!_
+      Ah, why have I held him dear?
+
+    Ah, this soft night torments me,
+      Thinking that his faithless arms--
+    _Yami h� kam sharanam!_--
+      Clasp some shadow of my charms.
+
+    Fatal shadow--foolish mock!
+      When the great love shone confessed;--
+    _Yami h� kam sharanam!_
+      Krishna's lotus loads my breast;
+
+    'Tis too heavy, lacking him;
+      Like a broken flower I am--
+    Necklets, jewels, what are ye?
+      _Yami h� kam sharanam!_
+
+    _Yami h� kam sharanam!_
+      The sky is still, the forest sleeps;
+    Krishna forgets--he loves no more;
+      He fails in faith, and Radha weeps.
+
+        _But the poet Jayadev--
+        He who is great Hari's slave,
+        He who finds asylum sweet
+        Only at great Hari's feet;
+        He who for your comfort sings
+        All this to the Vina's strings--
+        Prays that Radha's tender moan
+        In your hearts be thought upon,
+        And that all her holy grace
+        Live there like the loved one's face._
+
+    Yet, if I wrong him! (sang she)--can he fail?
+      Could any in the wood win back his kisses?
+    Could any softest lips of earth prevail
+      To hold him from my arms? any love-blisses
+
+    Blind him once more to mine? O Soul, my prize!
+      Art thou not merely hindered at this hour?
+    Sore-wearied, wandering, lost? how otherwise
+      Shouldst thou not hasten to the bridal-bower?
+
+    But seeing far away that Maiden come
+    Alone, with eyes cast down and lingering steps,
+    Again a little while she feared to hear
+    Of Krishna false; and her quick thoughts took shape
+    In a fine jealousy, with words like these--
+
+      Something then of earth has held him
+        From his home above,
+      Some one of those slight deceivers--
+        Ah, my foolish love!
+
+    Some new face, some winsome playmate,
+      With her hair untied,
+    And the blossoms tangled in it,
+      Woos him to her side.
+
+    On the dark orbs of her bosom--
+      Passionately heaved--
+    Sink and rise the warm, white pearl-strings,
+      Oh, my love deceived!
+
+    Fair? yes, yes! the rippled shadow
+      Of that midnight hair
+    Shows above her brow--as clouds do
+      O'er the moon--most fair:
+
+    And she knows, with wilful paces,
+      How to make her zone
+    Gleam and please him; and her ear-rings
+      Tinkle love; and grown
+
+    Coy as he grows fond, she meets him
+      With a modest show;
+    Shaming truth with truthful seeming,
+      While her laugh--light, low--
+
+    And her subtle mouth that murmurs.
+      And her silken cheek,
+    And her eyes, say she dissembles
+      Plain as speech could speak.
+
+    Till at length, a fatal victress,
+      Of her triumph vain,
+    On his neck she lies and smiles there:--
+      Ah, my Joy!--my Pain!
+
+          _But may Radha's fond annoy,
+          And may Krishna's dawning joy,
+          Warm and waken love more fit--
+          Jayadeva prayeth it--
+          And the griefs and sins assuage
+          Of this blind and evil age._
+
+    O Moon! (she sang) that art so pure and pale,
+      Is Krishna wan like thee with lonely waiting?
+    O lamp of love! art thou the lover's friend,
+      And wilt not bring him, my long pain abating?
+    O fruitless moon! thou dost increase my pain
+    O faithless Krishna! I have striven in vain.
+    And then, lost in her fancies sad, she moaned--
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJAR� _and the Mode_ EKAT�L�)
+
+            In vain, in vain!
+    Earth will of earth! I mourn more than I blame;
+      If he had known, he would not sit and paint
+    The tilka on her smooth black brow, nor claim
+      Quick kisses from her yielded lips--false, faint--
+    False, fragrant, fatal! Krishna's quest is o'er
+            By Jumna's shore!
+
+            Vain--it was vain!
+    The temptress was too near, the heav'n too far;
+      I can but weep because he sits and ties
+    Garlands of fire-flowers for her loosened hair,
+      And in its silken shadow veils his eyes
+    And buries his fond face. Yet I forgave
+            By Jumna's wave!
+
+            Vainly! all vain!
+    Make then the most of that whereto thou'rt given,
+      Feign her thy Paradise--thy Love of loves;
+    Say that her eyes are stars, her face the heaven,
+      Her bosoms the two worlds, with sandal-groves
+    Full-scented, and the kiss-marks--ah, thy dream
+            By Jumna's stream!
+
+            It shall be vain!
+    And vain to string the emeralds on her arm,
+      And hang the milky pearls upon her neck,
+    Saying they are not jewels, but a swarm
+      Of crowded, glossy bees, come there to suck
+    The rosebuds of her breast, the sweetest flowers
+            Of Jumna's bowers.
+
+            That shall be vain!
+    Nor wilt thou so believe thine own blind wooing,
+      Nor slake thy heart's thirst even with the cup
+    Which at the last she brims for thee, undoing
+      Her girdle of carved gold, and yielding up,
+    Love's uttermost: brief the poor gain and pride
+            By Jumna's tide
+
+            Because still vain
+    Is love that feeds on shadow; vain, as thou dost,
+      To look so deep into the phantom eyes
+    For that which lives not there; and vain, as thou must,
+      To marvel why the painted pleasure flies,
+    When the fair, false wings seemed folded for ever
+            By Jumna's river.
+
+            And vain! yes, vain!
+    For me too is it, having so much striven,
+      To see this slight snare take thee, and thy soul
+    Which should have climbed to mine, and shared my heaven,
+      Spent on a lower loveliness, whose whole
+    Passion of claim were but a parody
+            Of that kept here for thee.
+
+            Ahaha! vain!
+    For on some isle of Jumna's silver stream
+      He gives all that they ask to those hard eyes,
+    While mine which are his angel's, mine which gleam
+      With light that might have led him to the skies--
+    That almost led him--are eclipsed with tears
+            Wailing my fruitless prayers.
+
+            But thou, good Friend,
+    Hang not thy head for shame, nor come so slowly,
+      As one whose message is too ill to tell;
+    If thou must say Krishna is forfeit wholly--
+      Wholly forsworn and lost--let the grief dwell
+    Where the sin doth,--except in this sad heart,
+            Which cannot shun its part.
+
+          _O great Hari! purge from wrong
+          The soul of him who writes this song;
+          Purge the souls of those that read
+          From every fault of thought and deed;
+          With thy blessed light assuage
+          The darkness of this evil age!
+          Jayadev the bard of love,
+          Servant of the Gods above,
+          Prays it for himself and you--
+          Gentle hearts who listen!--too._
+
+    Then in this other strain she wailed his loss--
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ DESHAVAR�D� _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
+
+    She, not Radha, wins the crown
+      Whose false lips seemed dearest;
+    What was distant gain to him
+      When sweet loss stood nearest?
+    Love her, therefore, lulled to loss
+      On her fatal bosom;
+    Love her with such love as she
+      Can give back in the blossom.
+
+    Love her, O thou rash lost soul!
+      With thy thousand graces;
+    Coin rare thoughts into fair words
+      For her face of faces;
+    Praise it, fling away for it
+      Life's purpose in a sigh,
+    All for those lips like flower-leaves,
+      And lotus-dark deep eye.
+
+    Nay, and thou shalt be happy too
+      Till the fond dream is over;
+    And she shall taste delight to hear
+      The wooing of her lover;
+    The breeze that brings the sandal up
+      From distant green Malay,
+    Shall seem all fragrance in the night,
+      All coolness in the day.
+
+    The crescent moon shall seem to swim
+      Only that she may see
+    The glad eyes of my Krishna gleam,
+      And her soft glances he:
+    It shall be as a silver lamp
+      Set in the sky to show
+    The rose-leaf palms that cling and clasp,
+      And the breast that beats below.
+
+    The thought of parting shall not lie
+      Cold on their throbbing lives,
+    The dread of ending shall not chill
+      The glow beginning gives;
+    She in her beauty dark shall look--
+      As long as clouds can be--
+    As gracious as the rain-time cloud
+      Kissing the shining sea.
+
+    And he, amid his playmates old,
+      At least a little while,
+    Shall not breathe forth again the sigh
+      That spoils the song and smile;
+    Shall be left wholly to his choice,
+      Free for his pleasant sin,
+    With the golden-girdled damsels
+      Of the bowers I found him in.
+
+    For me, his Angel, only
+      The sorrow and the smart,
+    The pale grief sitting on the brow,
+      The dead hope in the heart;
+    For me the loss of losing,
+      For me the ache and dearth;
+    My king crowned with the wood-flowers!
+      My fairest upon earth!
+
+         _Hari, Lord and King of love!
+          From thy throne of light above
+          Stoop to help us, deign to take
+          Our spirits to thee for the sake
+          Of this song, which speaks the fears
+          Of all who weep with Radha's tears._
+
+    But love is strong to pardon, slow to part,
+    And still the Lady, in her fancies, sang--
+            Wind of the Indian stream!
+    A little--oh! a little--breathe once more
+    The fragrance like his mouth's! blow from thy shore
+      One last word as he fades into a dream;
+
+            Bodiless Lord of love!
+    Show him once more to me a minute's space,
+    My Krishna, with the love-look in his face,
+      And then I come to my own place above;
+
+            I will depart and give
+    All back to Fate and her: I will submit
+    To thy stern will, and bow myself to it,
+      Enduring still, though desolate, to live:
+
+            If it indeed be life,
+    Even so resigning, to sit patience-mad,
+    To feel the zephyrs burn, the sunlight sad,
+      The peace of holy heaven, a restless strife.
+
+            Haho! what words are these?
+    How can I live and lose him? how not go
+    Whither love draws me for a soul loved so?
+      How yet endure such sorrow?--or how cease?
+
+            Wind of the Indian wave!
+    If that thou canst, blow poison here, not nard;
+    God of the five shafts! shoot thy sharpest hard,
+      And kill me, Radha,--Radha who forgave!
+
+            Or, bitter River,
+    Yam�n! be Yama's sister! be Death's kin!
+    Swell thy wave up to me and gulf me in,
+      Cooling this cruel, burning pain for ever.
+
+           _Ah! if only visions stir
+            Grief so passionate in her,
+            What divine grief will not take,
+            Spirits in heaven for the sake
+            Of those who miss love? Oh, be wise!
+            Mark this story of the skies;
+            Meditate Govinda ever,
+            Sitting by the sacred river,
+            The mystic stream, which o'er his feet
+            Glides slow, with murmurs low and sweet,
+            Till none can tell whether those be
+            Blue lotus-blooms, seen veiledly
+            Under the wave, or mirrored gems
+            Reflected from the diadems
+            Bound on the brows of mighty Gods,
+            Who lean from out their pure abodes,
+            And leave their bright felicities
+            To guide great Krishna to his sides._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the G�ta Govinda entitled_
+VIPRALABDHAVARNANE NAGARANARAYANO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE EIGHTH._
+
+KHANDITAVARNANE VILAKSHALAKSHMIPATI.
+
+THE REBUKING OF KRISHNA.
+
+
+    For when the weary night had worn away
+    In these vain fears, and the clear morning broke,
+    Lo, Krishna! lo, the longed-for of her soul
+    Came too!--in the glad light he came, and bent
+    His knee, and clasped his hands; on his dumb lips
+    Fear, wonder, joy, passion, and reverence
+    Strove for the trembling words, and Radha knew
+    Peace won for him and her; yet none the less
+    A little time she eluded him, and sang:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ BHAIRAV� _and the Mode_ YATI)
+
+    Krishna!--then thou hast found me!--and thine eyes
+      Heavy and sad and stained, as if with weeping!
+    Ah! is it not that those, which were thy prize,
+      So radiant seemed that all night thou wert keeping
+    Vigils of tender wooing?--have thy Love!
+      Here is no place for vows broken in making;
+    Thou Lotus-eyed! thou soul for whom I strove!
+      Go! ere I listen, my just mind forsaking.
+
+    Krishna! my Krishna with the woodland-wreath!
+      Return, or I shall soften as I blame;
+    The while thy very lips are dark to the teeth
+      With dye that from her lids and lashes came,
+    Left on the mouth I touched. Fair traitor! go!
+      Say not they darkened, lacking food and sleep
+    Long waiting for my face; I turn it--so--
+      Go! ere I half believe thee, pleading deep;
+
+    But wilt thou plead, when, like a love-verse printed
+      On the smooth polish of an emerald,
+    I see the marks she stamped, the kisses dinted
+      Large-lettered, by her lips? thy speech withheld
+    Speaks all too plainly; go,--abide thy choice!
+      If thou dost stay, I shall more greatly grieve thee;
+    Not records of her victory?--peace, dear voice!
+      Hence with that godlike brow, lest I believe thee.
+
+    For dar'st thou feign the saffron on thy bosom
+      Was not implanted in disloyal embrace?
+    Or that this many-coloured love-tree blossom
+      Shone not, but yesternight, above her face?
+    Comest thou here, so late, to be forgiven,
+      O thou, in whose eyes Truth was made to live?
+    O thou, so worthy else of grace and heaven?
+      O thou, so nearly won? Ere I forgive,
+
+    Go, Krishna! go!--lest I should think, unwise,
+      Thy heart not false, as thy long lingering seems,
+    Lest, seeing myself so imaged in thine eyes,
+      I shame the name of Pity--turn to dreams
+    The sacred sound of vows; make Virtue grudge
+      Her praise to Mercy, calling thy sin slight;
+    Go therefore, dear offender! go! thy Judge
+      Had best not see thee to give sentence right.
+
+        _But may he grant us peace at last and bliss
+         Who heard,--and smiled to hear,--delays like this,
+         Delays that dallied with a dream come true,
+         Fond wilful angers; for the maid laughed too
+         To see, as Radha ended, her hand take
+         His dark role for her veil, and[2] Krishna make
+         The word she spoke for parting kindliest sign
+         He should not go, but stay. O grace divine,
+         Be ours too! Jayadev, the Poet of love,
+         Prays it from Hari, lordliest above._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the G�ta Govinda entitled_
+KHANDITAVARNANE VILAKSHALAKSHMIPATI.)
+
+[Footnote 2: The text here is not closely followed.]
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE NINTH._
+
+KALAHANTARITAVARNANE MUGDHAMUKUNDO.
+
+THE END OF KRISHNA'S TRIAL.
+
+
+    Yet not quite did the doubts of Radha die,
+    Nor her sweet brows unbend; but she, the Maid--
+    Knowing her heart so tender, her soft arms
+    Aching to take him in, her rich mouth sad
+    For the comfort of his kiss, and these fears false--
+    Spake yet a little in fair words like these:
+
+_(What follows is to the Music_ GURJJAR� _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    The lesson that thy faithful love has taught him
+                  He has heard;
+    The wind of spring, obeying thee, hath brought him
+                  At thy word;
+    What joy in all the three worlds was so precious
+                  To thy mind?
+    _M� kooroo m�nini m�namay�_,[3]
+                  Ah, be kind!
+
+[Footnote 3: My proud one! do not indulge in scorn.]
+
+    No longer from his earnest eyes conceal
+                  Thy delights;
+    Lift thy face, and let the jealous veil reveal
+                  All his rights;
+    The glory of thy beauty was but given
+                  For content;
+    _M� kooroo m�nini m�namay�_,
+                  Oh, relent!
+
+    Remember, being distant, how he bore thee
+                  In his heart;
+    Look on him sadly turning from before thee
+                  To depart;
+    Is he not the soul thou lovedst, sitting lonely
+                  In the wood?
+    _M� kooroo m�nini m�namay�_,
+                  'Tis not good!
+
+    He who grants thee high delight in bridal-bower
+                  Pardons long;
+    What the gods do love may do at such an hour
+                  Without wrong;
+    Why weepest thou? why keepest thou in anger
+                  Thy lashes down?
+    _M� kooroo m�nini m�namay�_,
+                  Do not frown!
+
+    Lift thine eyes now, and look on him, bestowing,
+                  Without speech;
+    Let him pluck at last the flower so sweetly growing
+                  In his reach;
+    The fruit of lips, of loving tones, of glances
+                  That forgive;
+    _M� kooroo m�nini m�namay�_,
+                  Let him live!
+
+    Let him speak with thee, and pray to thee, and prove thee
+                  All his truth;
+    Let his silent loving lamentation move thee
+                  Asking ruth;
+    How knowest thou? All, listen, dearest Lady,
+                  He is there;
+    _M� kooroo m�nini m�namay�_,
+                  Thou must hear!
+
+           _O rare voice, which is a spell
+            Unto all on earth who dwell!
+            O rich voice, of rapturous love,
+            Making melody above!
+            Krishna's, Hari's--one in two,
+            Sound these mortal verses through!
+            Sound like that soft flute which made
+            Such a magic in the shade--
+            Calling deer-eyed maidens nigh,
+            Waking wish and stirring sigh,
+            Thrilling blood and melting breasts,
+            Whispering love's divine unrests,
+            Winning blessings to descend,
+            Bringing earthly ills to end;--
+            Me thou heard in this song now
+            Thou, the great Enchantment, thou!_
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the G�ta Govinda entitled_
+KALAHANTARITAVARNANE MUGDHAMUKUNDO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE TENTH._
+
+MANINIVARNANE CHATURACHATURBHUJO.
+
+KRISHNA IN PARADISE.
+
+
+    But she, abasing still her glorious eyes,
+    And still not yielding all her face to him,
+    Relented; till with softer upturned look
+    She smiled, while the Maid pleaded; so thereat
+    Came Krishna nearer, and his eager lips
+    Mixed sighs with words in this fond song he sang:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ DESH�YAVAR�D� _and the Mode_
+ASHTAT�L�.)
+
+    O angel of my hope! O my heart's home!
+      My fear is lost in love, my love in fear;
+    This bids me trust my burning wish, and come,
+      That checks me with its memories, drawing near:
+    Lift up thy look, and let the thing it saith
+    End fear with grace, or darken love to death.
+
+    Or only speak once more, for though thou slay me,
+      Thy heavenly mouth must move, and I shall hear
+    Dulcet delights of perfect music sway me
+      Again--again that voice so blest and dear;
+    Sweet Judge! the prisoner prayeth for his doom
+    That he may hear his fate divinely come.
+
+    Speak once more! then thou canst not choose but show
+      Thy mouth's unparalleled and honeyed wonder
+    Where, like pearls hid in red-lipped shells, the row
+      Of pearly teeth thy rose-red lips lie under;
+    Ah me! I am that bird that woos the moon,
+    And pipes--poor fool! to make it glitter soon.
+
+    Yet hear me on--because I cannot stay
+      The passion of my soul, because my gladness
+    Will pour forth from my heart;--since that far day
+      When through the mist of all my sin and sadness
+    Thou didst vouchsafe--Surpassing One!--to break,
+    All else I slighted for thy noblest sake.
+
+    Thou, thou hast been my blood, my breath, my being;
+      The pearl to plunge for in the sea of life;
+    The sight to strain for, past the bounds of seeing;
+      The victory to win through longest strife;
+    My Queen! my crowned Mistress! my sphered bride!
+    Take this for truth, that what I say beside.
+
+    Of bold love--grown full-orbed at sight of thee--
+      May be forgiven with a quick remission;
+    For, thou divine fulfilment of all hope!
+      Thou all-undreamed completion of the vision!
+    I gaze upon thy beauty, and my fear
+    Passes as clouds do, when the moon shines clear.
+
+    So if thou'rt angry still, this shall avail,
+      Look straight at me, and let thy bright glance wound me;
+    Fetter me! gyve me! lock me in the gaol
+      Of thy delicious arms; make fast around me
+    The silk-soft manacles of wrists and hands,
+    Then kill me! I shall never break those bands.
+
+    The starlight jewels flashing on thy breast
+      Have not my right to hear thy beating heart;
+    The happy jasmine-buds that clasp thy waist
+      Are soft usurpers of my place and part;
+    If that fair girdle only there must shine,
+    Give me the girdle's life--the girdle mine!
+
+    Thy brow like smooth Bandh�ka-leaves; thy cheek
+      Which the dark-tinted Madhuk's velvet shows;
+    Thy long-lashed Lotus eyes, lustrous and meek;
+      Thy nose a Tila-bud; thy teeth like rows
+    Of Kunda-petals! he who pierceth hearts
+    Points with thy lovelinesses all five darts.
+
+    But Radiant, Perfect, Sweet, Supreme, forgive!
+      My heart is wise--my tongue is foolish still:
+    I know where I am come--I know I live--
+      I know that thou art Radha--that this will
+    Last and be heaven: that I have leave to rise
+    Up from thy feet, and look into thine eyes!
+
+    And, nearer coming, I ask for grace
+      Now that the blest eyes turn to mine;
+    Faithful I stand in this sacred place
+      Since first I saw them shine:
+    Dearest glory that stills my voice,
+      Beauty unseen, unknown, unthought!
+    Splendour of love, in whose sweet light
+      Darkness is past and nought;
+    Ah, beyond words that sound on earth,
+      Golden bloom of the garden of heaven!
+    Radha, enchantress! Radha, the queen!
+      Be this trespass forgiven--
+    In that I dare, with courage too much
+      And a heart afraid,--so bold it is grown--
+    To hold thy hand with a bridegroom's touch,
+      And take thee for mine, mine own.[4]
+
+           _So they met and so they ended
+            Pain and parting, being blended
+            Life with life--made one for ever
+            In high love; and Jayadeva
+            Hasteneth on to close the story
+            Of their bridal grace and glory._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the G�ta Govinda entitled_
+MANINIVARNANE CHATURACHATURBHUJO.)
+
+[Footnote 4: Much here also is necessarily paraphrased.]
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE ELEVENTH._
+
+RADHIKAMILANE SANANDADAMODARO.
+
+THE UNION OF RADHA AND KRISHNA.
+
+
+    Thus followed soft and lasting peace, and griefs
+    Died while she listened to his tender tongue,
+    Her eyes of antelope alight with love;
+    And while he led the way to the bride-bower
+    The maidens of her train adorned her fair
+    With golden marriage-cloths, and sang this song:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ VASANTA _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    Follow, happy Radha! follow,--
+      In the quiet falling twilight--
+    The steps of him who followed thee
+      So steadfastly and far;
+    Let us bring thee where the banjulas
+      Have spread a roof of crimson,
+    Lit up by many a marriage-lamp
+      Of planet, sun, and star:
+    For the hours of doubt are over,
+      And thy glad and faithful lover
+    Hath found the road by tears and prayers
+      To thy divinest side;
+    And thou wilt not now deny him
+      One delight of all thy beauty,
+    But yield up open-hearted
+      His pearl, his prize, his bride.
+
+    Oh, follow! while we fill the air
+      With songs and softest music;
+    Lauding thy wedded loveliness,
+      Dear Mistress past compare!
+    For there is not any splendour
+      Of Apsarasas immortal--
+    No glory of their beauty rich--
+      But Radha has a share;
+    Oh, follow! while we sing the song
+      That fills the worlds with longing,
+    The music of the Lord of love
+      Who melts all hearts with bliss;
+    For now is born the gladness
+      That springs from mortal sadness,
+    And all soft thoughts and things and hopes
+      Were presages of this.
+
+    Then, follow, happiest Lady!
+      Follow him thou lovest wholly;
+    The hour is come to follow now
+      The soul thy spells have led;
+    His are thy breasts like jasper-cups,
+      And his thine eyes like planets;
+    Thy fragrant hair, thy stately neck,
+      Thy queenly sumptuous head;
+    Thy soft small feet, thy perfect lips,
+      Thy teeth like jasmine petals,
+    Thy gleaming rounded shoulders,
+      And long caressing arms,
+    Being thine to give, are his; and his
+     The twin strings of thy girdle,
+    And his the priceless treasure
+      Of thine utter-sweetest charms.
+
+    So follow! while the flowers break forth
+      In white and amber clusters,
+    At the breath of thy pure presence,
+      And the radiance on thy brow;
+    Oh, follow where the Asokas wave
+      Their sprays of gold and purple,
+    As if to beckon thee the way
+      That Krishna passed but now;
+    He is gone a little forward!
+      Though thy steps are faint for pleasure,
+    Let him hear the tattling ripple
+      Of the bangles round thy feet;
+    Moving slowly o'er the blossoms
+      On the path which he has shown thee,
+    That when he turns to listen
+      It may make his fond heart beat.
+
+    And loose thy jewelled girdle
+      A little, that its rubies
+    May tinkle softest music too,
+      And whisper thou art near;
+    Though now, if in the forest
+      Thou should'st bend one blade of Kusha
+    With silken touch of passing foot,
+      His heart would know and hear;
+    Would hear the wood-buds saying,
+      "It is Radha's foot that passes;"
+    Would hear the wind sigh love-sick,
+      "It is Radha's fragrance, this;"
+    Would hear thine own heart beating
+      Within thy panting bosom,
+    And know thee coming, coming,
+      His--ever,--ever--his!
+
+    "_Mine_! "--hark! we are near enough for hearing--
+      "_Soon she will come--she will smile--she will say
+    Honey-sweet words of heavenly endearing;
+      O soul! listen; my Bride is on her way!_"
+
+    Hear'st him not, my Radha?
+      Lo, night bendeth o'er thee--
+    Darker than dark Tam�la-leaves--
+      To list thy marriage-song;
+    Dark as the touchstone that tries gold,
+      And see now--on before thee--
+    Those lines of tender light that creep
+      The clouded sky along:
+    O night! that trieth gold of love,
+      This love is proven perfect!
+    O lines that streak the touchstone sky,
+      Plash forth true shining gold!
+    O rose-leaf feet, go boldly!
+      O night!--that lovest lovers--
+    Thy softest robe of silence
+      About these bridals fold!
+
+    See'st thou not, my Radha?
+      Lo, the night, thy bridesmaid,
+    Comes!--her eyes thick-painted
+      With soorma of the gloom--
+    The night that binds the planet-worlds
+      For jewels on her forehead,
+    And for emblem and for garland
+      Loves the blue-black lotus-bloom;
+    The night that scents her breath so sweet
+      With cool and musky odours,
+    That joys to spread her veil of shade
+      Over the limbs of love;
+
+        And when, with loving weary,
+          Yet dreaming love, they slumber,
+        Sets the far stars for silver lamps
+          To light them from above.
+
+    So came she where he stood, awaiting her
+    At the bower's entry, like a god to see,
+    With marriage-gladness and the grace of heaven.
+    The great pearl set upon his glorious head
+    Shone like a moon among the leaves, and shone
+    Like stars the gems that kept her gold gown close:
+    But still a little while she paused--abashed
+    At her delight, of her deep joy afraid--
+    And they that tended her sang once more this:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ VAR�DI _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
+
+    Enter, thrice-happy! enter, thrice-desired!
+    And let the gates of Hari shut thee in
+    With the soul destined to thee from of old.
+
+    Tremble not! lay thy lovely shame aside;
+    Lay it aside with thine unfastened zone,
+    And love him with the love that knows not fear,
+
+    Because it fears not change; enter thou in,
+    Flower of all sweet and stainless womanhood!
+    For ever to grow bright, for ever new;
+
+    Enter beneath the flowers, O flower-fair!
+    Beneath these tendrils, Loveliest! that entwine
+    And clasp, and wreathe and cling, with kissing stems;
+
+    Enter, with tender-blowing airs of heaven,
+    Soft as love's breath and gentle as the tones
+    Of lover's whispers, when the lips come close:
+
+    Enter the house of Love, O loveliest!
+    Enter the marriage-bower, most beautiful!
+    And take and give the joy that Hari grants,
+
+    Thy heart has entered, let thy feet go too!
+    Lo, Krishna! lo, the one that thirsts for thee!
+    Give him the drink of amrit from thy lips.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Then she, no more delaying, entered straight;
+    Her step a little faltered, but her face
+    Shone with unutterable quick love; and--while,
+
+    The music of her bangles passed the porch--
+    Shame, which had lingered in her downcast eyes,
+    Departed shamed[5] ... and like the mighty deep,
+    Which sees the moon and rises, all his life
+    Uprose to drink her beams.
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the G�ta Govinda entitled_
+RADHIKAMILANE SANANDADAMODARO.)
+
+[Footnote 5: This complete anticipation (_salajj� lajj�pi_) of the
+line--
+
+    "Upon whose brow shame is ashamed to sit"
+
+--occurs at the close of the Sarga, part of which is here perforce
+omitted, along with the whole of the last one.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Hari keep you! He whose might,
+      On the King of Serpents seated,
+    Flashes forth in dazzling light
+      From the Great Snake's gems repeated:
+    Hari keep you! He whose graces,
+      Manifold in majesty,--
+    Multiplied in heavenly places--
+      Multiply on earth--to see
+    Better with a hundred eyes
+      Her bright charms who by him lies.
+
+     _What skill may be in singing,
+        What worship sound in song,
+      What lore be taught in loving,
+        What right divined from wrong:
+      Such things hath Jayadeva--
+        In this his Hymn of Love,
+      Which lauds Govinda ever,--
+        Displayed; may all approve!_
+
+
+THE END OF THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS
+
+
+
+
+_MISCELLANEOUS ORIENTAL POEMS._
+
+
+
+
+_THE RAJPOOT WIFE._
+
+
+    Sing something, Jymul Rao! for the goats are gathered now,
+      And no more water is to bring;
+    The village-gates are set, and the night is gray as yet,
+      God hath given wondrous fancies to thee:--sing!
+
+    Then Jymul's supple fingers, with a touch that doubts and lingers,
+      Sets athrill the saddest wire of all the six;
+    And the girls sit in a tangle, and hush the tinkling bangle,
+      While the boys pile the flame with store of sticks.
+
+    And vain of village praise, but full of ancient days,
+      He begins with a smile and with a sigh--
+    "Who knows the babul-tree by the bend of the Ravee?"
+      Quoth Gunesh, "I!" and twenty voices, "I!"
+
+    "Well--listen! there below, in the shade of bloom and bough,
+      Is a musjid of carved and coloured stone;
+    And Abdool Shureef Khan--I spit, to name that man!--
+      Lieth there, underneath, all alone.
+
+    "He was Sultan Mahmoud's vassal, and wore an Amir's tassel
+      In his green hadj-turban, at Nungul.
+    Yet the head which went so proud, it is not in his shroud;
+      There are bones in that grave,--but not a skull!
+
+    "And, deep drove in his breast, there moulders with the rest
+      A dagger, brighter once than Chundra's ray;
+    A Rajpoot lohar whet it, and a Rajpoot woman set it
+      Past the power of any hand to tear away.
+
+    "'Twas the Ranee Neila true, the wife of Soorj Dehu,
+      Lord of the Rajpoots of Nourpoor;
+    You shall hear the mournful story, with its sorrow and its glory,
+      And curse Shureef Khan,--the soor!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    All in the wide Five-Waters was none like Soorj Dehu,
+    To foeman who so dreadful, to friend what heart so true?
+
+    Like Indus, through the mountains came down the Muslim ranks,
+    And town-walls fell before them as flooded river-banks;
+
+    But Soorj Dehu the Rajpoot owned neither town nor wall;
+    His house the camp, his roof-tree the sky that covers all;
+
+    His seat of state the saddle; his robe a shirt of mail;
+    His court a thousand Rajpoots close at his stallion's tail.
+
+    Not less was Soorj a Rajah because no crown he wore
+    Save the grim helm of iron with sword-marks dinted o'er;
+
+    Because he grasped no sceptre save the sharp tulwar, made
+    Of steel that fell from heaven,--for 'twas Indra forged that blade!
+    And many a starless midnight the shout of "Soorj Dehu"
+    Broke up with spear and matchlock the Muslim's "Illahu."
+
+    And many a day of battle upon the Muslim proud
+    Tell Soorj, as India's lightning falls from the silent cloud.
+
+    Nor ever shot nor arrow, nor spear nor slinger's stone,
+    Could pierce the mail that Neila the Ranee buckled on:
+
+    But traitor's subtle tongue-thrust through fence of steel can break;
+    And Soorj was taken sleeping, whom none had ta'en awake.
+
+    Then at the noon, in durbar, swore fiercely Shureef Khan
+    That Soorj should die in torment, or live a Mussulman.
+
+    But Soorj laughed lightly at him, and answered, "Work your will!
+    The last breath of my body shall curse your Prophet still."
+
+    With words of insult shameful, and deeds of cruel kind,
+    They vexed that Rajpoot's body, but never moved his mind.
+
+    And one is come who sayeth, "Ho! Rajpoots! Soorj is bound;
+    Your lord is caged and baited by Shureef Khan, the hound.
+
+    "The Khan hath caught and chained him, like a beast, in iron cage,
+    And all the camp of Islam spends on him spite and rage;
+
+    "All day the coward Muslims spend on him rage and spite;
+    If ye have thought to help him, 'twere good ye go to-night."
+
+    Up sprang a hundred horsemen, flashed in each hand a sword;
+    In each heart burned the gladness of dying for their lord;
+
+    Up rose each Rajpoot rider, and buckled on with speed
+    The bridle-chain and breast-cord, and the saddle of his steed.
+
+    But unto none sad Neila gave word to mount and ride;
+    Only she called the brothers of Soorj unto her side,
+
+    And said, "Take order straightway to seek this camp with me;
+    If love and craft can conquer, a thousand is as three.
+
+    "If love be weak to save him, Soorj dies--and ye return,
+    For where a Rajpoot dieth, the Rajpoot widows burn."
+
+    Thereat the Ranee Neila unbraided from her hair
+    The pearls as great as Kashmir grapes Soorj gave his wife to wear,
+
+    And all across her bosoms--like lotus-buds to see--
+    She wrapped the tinselled sari of a dancing Kunchenee;
+
+    And fastened on her ankles the hundred silver bells,
+    To whose light laugh of music the Nautch-girl darts and dwells.
+
+    And all in dress a Nautch-girl, but all in heart a queen,
+    She set her foot to stirrup with a sad and settled mien.
+
+    Only one thing she carried no Kunchenee should bear,
+    The knife between her bosoms;--ho, Shureef! have a care!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Thereat, with running ditty of mingled pride and pity,
+      Jymul Rao makes the six wires sigh;
+    And the girls with tearful eyes note the music's fall and rise,
+      And the boys let the fire fade and die.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    All day lay Soorj the Rajpoot in Shureef's iron cage,
+    All day the coward Muslims spent on him spite and rage.
+
+    With bitter cruel torments, and deeds of shameful kind,
+    They racked and broke his body, but could not shake his mind.
+
+    And only at the Azan, when all their worst was vain,
+    They left him, like dogs slinking from a lion in his pain.
+
+    No meat nor drink they gave him through all that burning day,
+    And done to death, but scornful, at twilight-time he lay.
+
+    So when the gem of Shiva uprose, the shining moon,
+    Soorj spake unto his spirit, "The end is coming soon."
+
+    "I would the end might hasten, could Neila only know--
+    What is that Nautch-girl singing with voice so known and low?
+
+    "Singing beneath the cage-bars the song of love and fear
+    My Neila sang at parting!--what doth that Nautch-girl here?
+
+    "Whence comes she by the music of Neila's tender strain,
+    She, in that shameless tinsel?--O Nautch-girl, sing again!"
+
+    "Ah, Soorj!"--so followed answer--"here thine own Neila stands,
+    Faithful in life and death alike,--look up, and take my hands:
+
+    "Speak low, lest the guard hear us;--to-night, if thou must die,
+    Shureef shall have no triumph, but bear thee company."
+
+    So sang she like the Koil that dies beside its mate;
+    With eye as black and fearless, and love as hot and great.
+
+    Then the Chief laid his pale lips upon the little palm,
+    And sank down with a smile of love, his face all glad and calm;
+
+    And through the cage-bars Neila felt the brave heart stop fast,
+    "O Soorj!"--she cried--"I follow! have patience to the last."
+
+    She turned and went. "Who passes?" challenged the Mussulman;
+    "A Nautch-girl, I."--"What seek'st thou?"--"The presence of the Khan;"
+
+    "Ask if the high chief-captain be pleased to hear me sing;"
+    And Shureef, full of feasting, the Kunchenee bade bring.
+
+    Then, all before the Muslims, aflame with lawless wine,
+    Entered the Ranee Neila, in grace and face divine;
+
+    And all before the Muslims, wagging their goatish chins,
+    The Rajpoot Princess set her to the "bee-dance" that begins,
+
+          "_If my love loved me, he should be a bee,
+            I the yellow champ�k, love the honey of me._"
+
+    All the wreathed movements danced she of that dance;
+    Not a step she slighted, not a wanton glance;
+
+    In her unveiled bosom chased th' intruding bee,
+    To her waist--and lower--she! a Rajpoot, she!
+
+    Sang the melting music, swayed the languorous limb:
+    Shureef's drunken heart beat--Shureef's eyes waxed dim.
+
+    From his finger Shureef loosed an Ormuz pearl--
+    "By the Prophet," quoth he, "'tis a winsome girl!"
+
+    "Take this ring; and 'prithee, come and have thy pay,
+    I would hear at leisure more of such a lay."
+
+    Glared his eyes on her eyes, passing o'er the plain,
+    Glared at the tent-purdah--never glared again!
+
+    Never opened after unto gaze or glance,
+    Eyes that saw a Rajpoot dance a shameful dance;
+
+    For the kiss she gave him was his first and last--
+    Kiss of dagger, driven to his heart, and past.
+
+    At her feet he wallowed, choked with wicked blood;
+    In his breast the katar quivered where it stood.
+
+    At the hilt his fingers vainly--wildly--try,
+    Then they stiffen feeble;--die! thou slayer, die!
+
+    From his jewelled scabbard drew she Shureef's sword,
+    Cut a-twain the neck-bone of the Muslim lord.
+
+    Underneath the starlight,--sooth, a sight of dread!
+    Like the Goddess Kali, comes she with the head,
+
+    Comes to where her brothers guard their murdered chief;
+    All the camp is silent, but the night is brief.
+
+    At his feet she flings it, flings her burden vile;
+    "Soorj! I keep my promise! Brothers, build the pile!"
+
+    They have built it, set it, all as Rajpoots do
+    From the cage of iron taken Soorj Dehu;
+
+    In the lap of Neila, seated on the pile,
+    Laid his head--she radiant, like a queen the while.
+
+    Then the lamp is lighted, and the ghee is poured--
+    "Soorj, we burn together: O my love, my lord!"
+
+    In the flame and crackle dies her tender tongue,
+    Dies the Ranee, truest, all true wives among.
+
+    At the dawn a clamour runs from tent to tent,
+    Like the wild geese cackling when the night is spent.
+
+    "Shureef Khan lies headless! gone is Soorj Dehu!
+    And the wandering Nautch-girl, who has seen her, who?"
+
+    This but know the sentries, at the "breath of morn"
+    Forth there fared two horsemen, by the first was borne.
+
+    The urn of clay, the vessel that Rajpoots use to bring
+    The ashes of dead kinsmen to Gungas' holy spring.
+
+
+
+
+_KING SALADIN_.
+
+
+    Long years ago--so tells Boccaccio
+    In such Italian gentleness of speech
+    As finds no echo in this northern air
+    To counterpart its music--long ago,
+    When Saladin was Soldan of the East,
+    The kings let cry a general crusade;
+    And to the trysting-plains of Lombardy
+    The idle lances of the North and West
+    Rode all that spring, as all the spring runs down
+    Into a lake, from all its hanging hills,
+    The clash and glitter of a hundred streams.
+      Whereof the rumour reached to Saladin;
+    And that swart king--as royal in his heart
+    As any crowned champion of the Cross--
+    That he might fully, of his knowledge, learn
+    The purpose of the lords of Christendom,
+    And when their war and what their armament,
+    Took thought to cross the seas to Lombardy.
+    Wherefore, with wise and trustful Amirs twain,
+    All habited in garbs that merchants use,
+    With trader's band and gipsire on the breasts
+    That best loved mail and dagger, Saladin
+    Set forth upon his journey perilous.
+      In that day, lordly land was Lombardy!
+    A sea of country-plenty, islanded
+    With cities rich; nor richer one than thee,
+    Marble Milano! from whose gate at dawn--
+    With ear that little recked the matin-bell,
+    But a keen eye to measure wall and foss--
+    The Soldan rode; and all day long he rode
+    For Pavia; passing basilic, and shrine,
+    And gaze of vineyard-workers, wotting not
+    Yon trader was the Lord of Heathenesse.
+    All day he rode; yet at the wane of day
+    No gleam of gate, or ramp, or rising spire,
+    Nor Tessin's sparkle underneath the stars
+    Promised him Pavia; but he was 'ware
+    Of a gay company upon the way,
+    Ladies and lords, with horses, hawks, and hounds:
+    Cap-plumes and tresses fluttered by the wind
+    Of merry race for home. "Go!" said the king
+    To one that rode upon his better hand,
+    "And pray these gentles of their courtesy
+    How many leagues to Pavia, and the gates
+    What hour they close them?" Then the Saracen
+    Set spur, and being joined to him that seemed
+    First of the hunt, he told the message--they
+    Checking the jangling bits, and chiding down
+    The unfinished laugh to listen--but by this
+    Came up the king, his bonnet in his hand,
+    Theirs doffed to him: "Sir Trader," Torel said
+    (Messer Torello 'twas, of Istria),
+    "They shut the Pavian gate at even-song,
+    And even-song is sung." Then turning half,
+    Muttered, "Pardie, the man is worshipful,
+    A stranger too!" "Fair lord!" quoth Saladin,
+    "Please you to stead some weary travellers,
+    Saying where we may lodge, the town so far
+    And night so near" "Of my heart, willingly,"
+    Made answer Torel, "I did think but now
+    To send my knave an errand--he shall ride
+    And bring you into lodgment--oh! no thanks,
+    Our Lady keep you!" then with whispered hest
+    He called their guide and sped them. Being gone.
+    Torello told his purpose, and the band,
+    With ready zeal and loosened bridle-chains,
+    Rode for his hunting-palace, where they set
+    A goodly banquet underneath the planes,
+    And hung the house with guest-lights, and anon
+    Welcomed the wondering strangers, thereto led
+    Unwitting, by a world of winding paths;
+    Messer Torello, at the inner gate,
+    Waiting to take them in--a goodly host,
+    Stamped current with God's image for a man
+    Chief among men, truthful, and just, and free.
+      Then he, "Well met again, fair sirs! Our knave
+    Hath found you shelter better than the worst:
+    Please you to leave your selles, and being bathed,
+    Grace our poor supper here." Then Saladin,
+    Whose sword had yielded ere his courtesy,
+    Answered, "Great thanks, Sir Knight, and this much blame,
+    You spoil us for our trade! two bonnets doffed,
+    And travellers' questions holding you afield,
+    For those you give us this." "Sir! not your meed,
+    Nor worthy of your breeding; but in sooth
+    That is not out of Pavia." Thereupon
+    He led them to fair chambers decked with all
+    Makes tired men glad; lights, and the marble bath,
+    And flasks that sparkled, liquid amethyst,
+    And grapes, not dry as yet from evening dew.
+      Thereafter at the supper-board they sat;
+    Nor lacked it, though its guest was reared a king,
+    Worthy provend in crafts of cookery,
+    Pastel, pasticcio--all set forth on gold;
+    And gracious talk and pleasant courtesies,
+    Spoken in stately Latin, cheated time
+    Till there was none but held the stranger-sir,
+    For all his chapman's dress of cramasie,
+    Goodlier than silks could make him. Presently
+    Talk rose upon the Holy Sepulchre:
+    "I go myself," said Torel, "with a score
+    Of better knights--the flower of Pavia--
+    To try our steel against King Saladin's.
+    Sirs! ye have seen the countries of the Sun,
+    Know you the Soldan?" Answer gave the king,
+    "The Soldan we have seen--'twill push him hard
+    If, which I nothing doubt, you Pavian lords
+    Are valorous as gentle;--we, alas!
+    Are Cyprus merchants making trade to France--
+    Dull sons of Peace." "By Mary!" Torel cried,
+    "But for thy word, I ne'er heard speech so fit
+    To lead the war, nor saw a hand that sat
+    Liker a soldier's in the sabre's place;
+    But sure I hold you sleepless!" Then himself
+    Playing the chamberlain, with torches borne,
+    Led them to restful beds, commending them
+    To sleep and God, Who hears--Allah or God--
+    When good men do his creatures charities.
+      At dawn the cock, and neigh of saddled steeds,
+    Broke the king's dreams of battle--not their own,
+    But goodly jennets from Torello's stalls,
+    Caparisoned to bear them; he their host
+    Up, with a gracious radiance like the sun,
+    To bid them speed. Beside him in the court
+    Stood Dame Adalieta; comely she,
+    And of her port as queenly, and serene
+    As if the braided gold about her brows
+    Had been a crown. Mutual good-morrow given,
+    Thanks said and stayed, the lady prayed her guest
+    To take a token of his sojourn there,
+    Marking her good-will, not his worthiness;
+    "A gown of miniver--these furbelows
+    Are silk I spun--my lord wears ever such--
+    A housewife's gift! but those ye love are far;
+    Wear it as given for them." Then Saladin--
+    "A precious gift, Madonna, past my thanks;
+    And--but thou shalt not hear a 'no' from me--
+    Past my receiving; yet I take it; we
+    Were debtors to your noble courtesy
+    Out of redemption--this but bankrupts us."
+    "Nay, sir,--God shield you!" said the knight and dame.
+    And Saladin, with phrase of gentilesse
+    Returned, or ever that he rode alone,
+    Swore a great oath in guttural Arabic,
+    An oath by Allah--startling up the ears
+    Of those three Christian cattle they bestrode--
+    That never yet was princelier-natured man,
+    Nor gentler lady;--and that time should see
+    For a king's lodging quittance royal repaid.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    It was the day of the Passaggio:
+    Ashore the war-steeds champed the burnished bit;
+    Afloat the galleys tugged the mooring-chain:
+    The town was out; the Lombard armourers--
+    Red-hot with riveting the helmets up,
+    And whetting axes for the heathen heads--
+    Cooled in the crowd that filled the squares and street:
+    To speed God's soldiers. At the none that day
+    Messer Torello to the gate came down,
+    Leading his lady;--sorrow's hueless rose
+    Grew on her cheek, and thrice the destrier
+    Struck fire, impatient, from the pavement-squares,
+    Or ere she spoke, tears in her lifted eyes,
+    "Goest thou, lord of mine?" "Madonna, yes!"
+    Said Torel, "for my soul's weal and the Lord
+    Ride I to-day: my good name and my house
+    Reliant I intrust thee, and--because
+    It may be they shall slay me, and because,
+    Being so young, so fair, and so reputed,
+    The noblest will entreat thee--wait for me,
+    Widow or wife, a year, and month, and day;
+    Then if thy kinsmen press thee to a choice,
+    And if I be not come, hold me for dead;
+    Nor link thy blooming beauty with the grave
+    Against thine heart." "Good my lord!" answered she,
+    "Hardly my heart sustains to let thee go;
+    Thy memory it can keep, and keep it will,
+    Though my one lord, Torel of Istria,
+    Live, or----" "Sweet, comfort thee! San Pietro speed!
+    I shall come home: if not, and worthy knees
+    Bend for this hand, whereof none worthy lives,
+    Least he who lays his last kiss thus upon it,
+    Look thee, I free it----" "Nay!" she said, "but I,
+    A petulant slave that hugs her golden chain,
+    Give that gift back, and with it this poor ring:
+    Set it upon thy sword-hand, and in fight
+    Be merciful and win, thinking of me."
+    Then she, with pretty action, drawing on
+    Her ruby, buckled over it his glove--
+    The great steel glove--and through the helmet bars
+    Took her last kiss;--then let the chafing steed
+    Have its hot will and go.
+                               But Saladin,
+    Safe back among his lords at Lebanon,
+    Well wotting of their quest, awaited it,
+    And held the Crescent up against the Cross,
+    In many a doughty fight Ferrara blades
+    Clashed with keen Damasc, many a weary month
+    Wasted afield; but yet the Christians
+    Won nothing nearer to Christ's sepulchre;
+    Nay, but gave ground. At last, in Acre pent,
+    On their loose files, enfeebled by the war,
+    Came stronger smiter than the Saracen--
+    The deadly Pest: day after day they died,
+    Pikeman and knight-at-arms; day after day
+    A thinner line upon the leaguered wall
+    Held off the heathen:--held them off a space;
+    Then, over-weakened, yielded, and gave up
+    The city and the stricken garrison.
+      So to sad chains and hateful servitude
+    Fell all those purple lords--Christendom's stars,
+    Once high in hope as soaring Lucifer,
+    Now low as sinking Hesper: with them fell
+    Messer Torello--never one so poor
+    Of all the hundreds that his bounty fed
+    As he in prison--ill-entreated, bound,
+    Starved of sweet light, and set to shameful tasks;
+    And that great load at heart to know the days
+    Fast flying, and to live accounted dead.
+    One joy his gaolers left him,--his good hawk;
+    The brave, gay bird that crossed the seas with him:
+    And often, in the mindful hour of eve,
+    With tameless eye and spirit masterful,
+    In a feigned anger checking at his hand,
+    The good gray falcon made his master cheer.
+
+    One day it chanced Saladin rode afield
+    With shawled and turbaned Amirs, and his hawks--
+    Lebanon-bred, and mewed as princes lodge--
+    Flew foul, forgot their feather, hung at wrist,
+    And slighted call. The Soldan, quick in wrath,
+    Bade slay the cravens, scourge the falconer,
+    And seek some wight who knew the heart of hawks,
+    To keep it hot and true. Then spake a Sheikh--
+    "There is a Frank in prison by the sea,
+    Far-seen herein." "Give word that he be brought,"
+    Quoth Saladin, "and bid him set a cast:
+    If he hath skill, it shall go well for him."
+
+    Thus by the winding path of circumstance
+    One palace held, as prisoner and prince,
+    Torello and his guest: unwitting each,
+    Nay and unwitting, though they met and spake
+    Of that goshawk and this--signors in serge,
+    And chapmen crowned, who knows?--till on a time
+    Some trick of face, the manner of some smile,
+    Some gleam of sunset from the glad day gone,
+    Caught the king's eye, and held it. "Nazarene!
+    What native art thou?" asked he. "Lombard I,
+    A man of Pavia." "And thy name?" "Torel,
+    Messer Torello called in happier times,
+    Now best uncalled." "Come hither, Christian!"
+    The Soldan said, and led the way, by court
+    And hall and fountain, to an inner room
+    Rich with king's robes: therefrom he reached a gown,
+    And "Know'st thou this?" he asked. "High lord! I might
+    Elsewhere," quoth Torel, "here 'twere mad to say
+    Yon gown my wife unto a trader gave
+    Who shared our board." "Nay, but that gown is this,
+    And she the giver, and the trader I,"
+    Quoth Saladin; "I! twice a king to-day,
+    Owing a royal debt and paying it."
+    Then Torel, sore amazed, "Great lord, I blush,
+    Remembering how the Master of the East
+    Lodged sorrily." "It's Master's Master thou!"
+    Gave answer Saladin, "come in and see
+    What wares the Cyprus traders keep at home;
+    Come forth and take thy place, Saladin's friend,"
+    Therewith into the circle of his lords,
+    With gracious mien the Soldan led his slave;
+    And while the dark eyes glittered, seated him
+    First of the full divan. "Orient lords,"
+    So spake he,--"let the one who loves his king
+    Honour this Frank, whose house sheltered your king;
+    He is my brother:" then the night-black beards
+    Swept the stone floor in ready reverence,
+    Agas and Amirs welcoming Torel:
+    And a great feast was set, the Soldan's friend
+    Royally garbed, upon the Soldan's hand,
+    Shining the bright star of the banqueters.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    All which, and the abounding grace and love
+    Shown him by Saladin, a little held
+    The heart of Torel from its Lombard home
+    With Dame Adalieta: but it chanced
+    He sat beside the king in audience,
+    And there came one who said, "Oh, Lord of lords,
+    That galley of the Genovese which sailed
+    With Frankish prisoners is gone down at sea."
+    "Gone down!" cried Torel. "Ay! what recks it, friend,
+    To fall thy visage for?" quoth Saladin;
+    "One galley less to ship-stuffed Genoa!"
+    "Good my liege!" Torel said, "it bore a scroll
+    Inscribed to Pavia, saying that I lived;
+    For in a year, a month, and day, not come,
+    I bade them hold me dead; and dead I am,
+    Albeit living, if my lady wed,
+    Perchance constrained." "Certes," spake Saladin,
+    "A noble dame--the like not won, once lost--
+    How many days remain?" "Ten days, my prince,
+    And twelvescore leagues between my heart and me:
+    Alas! how to be passed?" Then Saladin--
+    "Lo! I am loath to lose thee--wilt thou swear
+    To come again if all go well with thee,
+    Or come ill speeding?" "Yea, I swear, my king,
+    Out of true love," quoth Torel, "heartfully."
+    Then Saladin, "Take here my signet-seal;
+    My admiral will loose his swiftest sail
+    Upon its sight; and cleave the seas, and go
+    And clip thy dame, and say the Trader sends
+    A gift, remindful of her courtesies."
+      Passed were the year, and month, and day; and passed
+    Out of all hearts but one Sir Torel's name,
+    Long given for dead by ransomed Pavians:
+    For Pavia, thoughtless of her Eastern graves,
+    A lovely widow, much too gay for grief,
+    Made peals from half a hundred campaniles
+    To ring a wedding in. The seven bells
+    Of Santo Pietro, from the nones to noon,
+    Boomed with bronze throats the happy tidings out;
+    Till the great tenor, overswelled with sound,
+    Cracked itself dumb. Thereat the sacristan,
+    Leading his swink�d ringers down the stairs,
+    Came blinking into sunlight--all his keys
+    Jingling their little peal about his belt--
+    Whom, as he tarried, locking up the porch,
+    A foreign signor, browned with southern suns,
+    Turbaned and slippered, as the Muslims use,
+    Plucked by the cope. "Friend," quoth he--'twas a tongue
+    Italian true, but in a Muslim mouth--
+    "Why are your belfries busy--is it peace
+    Or victory, that so ye din the ears
+    Of Pavian lieges?" "Truly, no liege thou!"
+    Grunted the sacristan, "who knowest not
+    That Dame Adalieta weds to-night
+    Her fore-betrothed,--Sir Torel's widow she,
+    That died i' the chain?" "To-night!" the stranger said
+    "Ay, sir, to-night!--why not to-night?--to-night!
+    And you shall see a goodly Christian feast
+    If so you pass their gates at even-song,
+    For all are asked."
+                         No more the questioner,
+    But folded o'er his face the Eastern hood,
+    Lest idle eyes should mark how idle words
+    Had struck him home. "So quite forgot!--so soon!--
+    And this the square wherein I gave the joust,
+    And that the loggia, where I fed the poor;
+    And yon my palace, where--oh, fair! oh, false!--
+    They robe her for a bridal. Can it be?
+    Clean out of heart, with twice six flying moons,
+    The heart that beat on mine as it would break,
+    That faltered forty oaths. Forced! forced!--not false--
+    Well! I will sit, wife, at thy wedding-feast,
+    And let mine eyes give my fond faith the lie."
+      So in the stream of gallant guests that flowed
+    Feastward at eve, went Torel; passed with them
+    The outer gates, crossed the great courts with them,
+    A stranger in the walls that called him lord.
+    Cressets and coloured lamps made the way bright,
+    And rose-leaves strewed to where within the doors
+    The master of the feast, the bridegroom, stood,
+    A-glitter from his forehead to his foot,
+    Speaking fair welcomes. He, a courtly lord,
+    Marking the Eastern guest, bespoke him sweet,
+    Prayed place for him, and bade them set his seat
+    Upon the dais. Then the feast began,
+    And wine went free as wit, and music died--
+    Outdone by merrier laughter.--only one
+    Nor ate nor drank, nor spoke nor smiled; but gazed
+    On the pale bride, pale as her crown of pearls,
+    Who sate so cold and still, and sad of cheer,
+    At the bride-feast.
+                         But of a truth, Torel
+    Read the thoughts right that held her eyelids down,
+    And knew her loyal to her memories.
+    Then to a little page who bore the wine,
+    He spake, "Go tell thy lady thus from me:
+    In mine own land, if any stranger sit
+    A wedding-guest, the bride, out of her grace,
+    In token that she knows her guest's good-will,
+    In token she repays it, brims a cup,
+    Wherefrom he drinking she in turn doth drink;
+    So is our use." The little page made speed
+    And told the message. Then that lady pale--
+    Ever a gentle and a courteous heart--
+    Lifted her troubled eyes and smiled consent
+    On the swart stranger. By her side, untouched,
+    Stood the brimmed gold; "Bear this," she said, "and pray
+    He hold a Christian lady apt to learn
+    A kindly lesson." But Sir Torel loosed
+    From off his finger--never loosed before--
+    The ring she gave him on the parting day;
+    And ere he drank, behind his veil of beard
+    Dropped in the cup the ruby, quaffed, and sent.--
+    Then she, with sad smile, set her lips to drink,
+    And--something in the Cyprus touching them,
+    Glanced--gazed--the ring!--her ring!--Jove! how she eyes
+    The wistful eyes of Torel!--how, heartsure,
+    Under all guise knowing her lord returned,
+    She springs to meet him coming!--telling all
+    In one great cry of joy.
+                         O me! the rout,
+    The storm of questions! stilled, when Torel spake
+    His name, and, known of all, claimed the Bride Wife,
+    Maugre the wasted feast, and woful groom.
+    All hearts but his were light to see Torel;
+    But Adalieta's lightest, as she plucked
+    The bridal-veil away. Something therein--
+    A lady's dagger--small, and bright, and fine--
+    Clashed out upon the marble. "Wherefore that?"
+    Asked Torel; answered she, "I knew you true;
+    And I could live, so long as I might wait;
+    But they--they pressed me hard! my days of grace
+    Ended to-night--and I had ended too,
+    Faithful to death, if so thou hadst not come."
+
+
+
+
+_THE CALIPH'S DRAUGHT_.
+
+
+    Upon a day in Ramadan--
+      When sunset brought an end of fast,
+    And in his station every man
+      Prepared to share the glad repast--
+    Sate Mohtasim in royal state,
+      The pillaw smoked upon the gold;
+    The fairest slave of those that wait
+      Mohtasim's jewelled cup did hold.
+
+    Of crystal carven was the cup,
+      With turquoise set along the brim,
+    A lid of amber closed it up;
+      'Twas a great king that gave it him.
+    The slave poured sherbet to the brink,
+      Stirred in wild honey and pomegranate,
+    With snow and rose-leaves cooled the drink,
+      And bore it where the Caliph sate.
+
+    The Caliph's mouth was dry as bone,
+      He swept his beard aside to quaff:--
+    The news-reader beneath the throne,
+      Went droning on with _ghain_ and _kaf_.--
+    The Caliph drew a mighty breath,
+      Just then the reader read a word--
+    And Mohtasim, as grim as death,
+      Set down the cup and snatched his sword.
+
+    "_Ann' amratan shureefatee!_"
+      "Speak clear!" cries angry Mohtasim;
+    "_Fe lasr ind' ilj min ulji_,"--
+      Trembling the newsman read to him
+    How in Ammoria, far from home,
+      An Arab girl of noble race
+    Was captive to a lord of Roum;
+      And how he smote her on the face,
+
+    And how she cried, for life afraid,
+      "Ya, Mohtasim! help, O my king!"
+    And how the Kafir mocked the maid,
+      And laughed, and spake a bitter thing,
+    "Call louder, fool! Mohtasim's ears
+      Are long as Barak's--if he heed--
+    Your prophet's ass; and when he hears,
+      He'll come upon a spotted steed!"
+
+    The Caliph's face was stern and red,
+      He snapped the lid upon the cup;
+    "Keep this same sherbet, slave," he said,
+      "Till such time as I drink it up.
+    Wallah! the stream my drink shall be,
+      My hollowed palm my only bowl,
+    Till I have set that lady free,
+      And seen that Roumi dog's head roll."
+
+    At dawn the drums of war were beat,
+      Proclaiming, "Thus saith Mohtasim,
+    'Let all my valiant horsemen meet,
+      And every soldier bring with him
+    A spotted steed,'" So rode they forth,
+      A sight of marvel and of fear;
+    Pied horses prancing fiercely north;
+      The crystal cup borne in the rear!
+
+    When to Ammoria he did win,
+      He smote and drove the dogs of Roum,
+    And rode his spotted stallion in,
+      Crying, "_Labbayki!_ I am come!"
+    Then downward from her prison-place
+      Joyful the Arab lady crept;
+    She held her hair before her face,
+      She kissed his feet, she laughed and wept.
+
+    She pointed where that lord was laid:
+      They drew him forth, he whined for grace:
+    Then with fierce eyes Mohtasim said--
+      "She whom thou smotest on the face
+    Had scorn, because she called her king:
+      Lo! he is come! and dost thou think
+    To live, who didst this bitter thing
+      While Mohtasim at peace did drink?"
+
+    Flashed the fierce sword--rolled the lord's head;
+      The wicked blood smoked in the sand.
+    "Now bring my cup!" the Caliph said.
+      Lightly he took it in his hand,
+    As down his throat the sweet drink ran
+      Mohtasim in his saddle laughed,
+    And cried, "_Taiba asshrab alan!_
+      By God! delicious is this draught!"
+
+
+
+
+_HINDOO FUNERAL SONG_.
+
+
+    Call on Rama! call to Rama!
+    Oh, my brothers, call on Rama!
+      For this Dead
+      Whom we bring,
+    Call aloud to mighty Rama.
+
+    As we bear him, oh, my brothers,
+    Call together, very loudly,
+      That the Bh�ts
+      May be scared;
+    That his spirit pass in comfort.
+
+    Turn his feet now, calling "Rama,"
+    Calling "Rama," who shall take him
+      When the flames
+      Make an end:
+    Ram! Ram!--oh, call to Rama.
+
+
+
+
+_SONG OF THE SERPENT-CHARMERS._
+
+
+    Come forth, oh, Snake! come forth, oh, glittering Snake!
+    Oh shining, lovely, deadly N�g! appear,
+    Dance to the music that we make,
+          This serpent-song, so sweet and clear,
+          Blown on the beaded gourd, so clear,
+                        So soft and clear.
+
+    Oh, dread Lord Snake! come forth and spread thy hood,
+    And drink the milk and suck the eggs; and show
+    Thy tongue; and own the tune is good:
+          Hear, Maharaj! how hard we blow!
+          Ah, Maharaj! for thee we blow;
+                        See how we blow!
+
+    Great Uncle Snake! creep forth and dance to-day!
+    This music is the music snakes love best;
+    Taste the warm white new milk, and play
+          Standing erect, with fangs at rest,
+          Dancing on end, sharp fangs at rest,
+                        Fierce fangs at rest.
+
+    Ah, wise Lord N�g! thou comest!--Fear thou not!
+    We make salaam to thee, the Serpent-King,
+    Draw forth thy folds, knot after knot;
+          Dance, Master! while we softly sing;
+          Dance, Serpent! while we play and sing,
+                        We play and sing.
+
+    Dance, dreadful King! whose kisses strike men dead;
+    Dance this side, mighty Snake! the milk is here!
+
+[_They seize the Cobra by the neck_.]
+
+    Ah, _shabash_! pin his angry head!
+          Thou fool! this nautch shall cost thee dear;
+          Wrench forth his fangs! this piping clear,
+                        It costs thee dear!
+
+
+
+
+_SONG OF THE FLOUR-MILL._
+
+
+    Turn the merry mill-stone, Gunga!
+      Pour the golden grain in;
+    Those that twist the Churrak fastest
+      The cakes soonest win:
+        Good stones, turn!
+        The fire begins to burn;
+        Gunga, stay not!
+        The hearth is nearly hot.
+    Grind the hard gold to silver;
+      Sing quick to the stone;
+    Feed its mouth with dal and bajri,
+      It will feed us anon.
+
+    Sing, Gunga! to the mill-stone,
+      It helps the wheel hum;
+    Blithesome hearts and willing elbows
+      Make the fine meal come:
+        Handsful three
+        For you and for me;
+        Now it falls white,
+        Good stones, bite!
+    Drive it round and round, my Gunga!
+      Sing soft to the stone;
+    Better corn and churrak-working
+      Than idleness and none.
+
+
+
+
+_TAZA BA TAZA_
+
+
+    Akbar sate high in the ivory hall,
+    His chief musician he bade them call;
+    Sing, said the king, that song of glee.
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now._
+    Sing me that music sweet and free,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_;
+    Here by the fountain sing it thou,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now._
+
+    Bending full low, his minstrel took
+    The Vina down from its painted nook.
+    Swept the strings of silver so
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_
+    Made the gladsome Vina go
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_
+    Sang with light strains and brightsome brow
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_.
+
+    "What is the lay for love most fit?
+    What is the melody echoes it?
+    Ever in tune and ever meet,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_
+    Ever delightful and ever sweet
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_
+    Soft as the murmur of love's first vow,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_."
+
+    "What is the bliss that is best on earth?
+    Lovers' light whispers and tender mirth;
+    Bright gleams the sun on the Green Sea's isle,
+    But a brighter light has a woman's smile:
+    Ever, like sunrise, fresh of hue,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_;
+    Ever, like sunset, splendid and new,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_."
+
+    "Thereunto groweth the graceful vine
+    To cool the lips of lovers with wine,
+    Haste thee and bring the amethyst cup,
+    That happy lovers may drink it up;
+    And so renew their gentle play,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_;
+    Ever delicious and new alway,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_."
+
+    "Thereunto sigheth the evening gale
+    To freshen the cheeks which love made pale;
+    This is why bloometh the scented flower,
+    To gladden with grace love's secret bower:
+    Love is the zephyr that always blows,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_;
+    Love is the rose-bloom that ever glows,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_."
+
+    Akbar, the mighty one, smiled to hear
+    The musical strain so soft and clear;
+    Danced the diamonds over his brow
+      To _taza ba taza, now ba now_:
+    His lovely ladies rocked in a row
+      To _taza ba taza, now ba now_;
+
+    Livelier sparkled the fountain's flow,
+      _Boose sittan ba kaum uzo_;
+    Swifter and sweeter the strings did go,
+      _Mutrib i khoosh nuwa bejo_;
+    Never such singing was heard, I trow;
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_.
+
+
+
+
+_THE MUSSULMAN PARADISE_.
+
+(_From the Arabic of the Fifty-sixth S�rat of the Koran, entitled "The
+Inevitable._")
+
+
+    When the Day of Wrath and Mercy cometh, none shall doubt it come;
+    Unto hell some it shall lower, and exalt to heaven some.
+
+    When the Earth with great shocks shaketh, and the mountains crumble
+        flat,
+    Quick and Dead shall be divided fourfold:--on this side and that.
+
+    The "Companions of the Right Hand" (ah! how joyful they will be!)
+    The "Companions of the Left Hand" (oh! what misery to see!)
+
+    Such, moreover, as of old times loved the truth, and taught it well,
+    First in faith, they shall be foremost in reward. The rest to hell.
+
+    But those souls attaining Allah, oh! the Gardens of good cheer
+    Kept to bless them! Yea, besides the "faithful," many shall be there.
+
+    Lightly lying on soft couches, beautiful with 'broidered gold,
+    Friends with friends, they shall be served by youths immortal, who
+        shall hold.
+
+    "_Akw�b, abareek_"--cups and goblets, brimming with celestial wine,
+    Wine that hurts not head or stomach: this and fruits of heav'n which
+        shine.
+
+    Bright, desirable; and rich flesh of what birds they relish best.
+    Yea! and--feasted--there shall soothe them damsels fairest, stateliest;
+
+    Damsels, having eyes of wonder, large black eyes, like hidden pearls,
+    "_Lulu-l-makn�n_": Allah grants them for sweet love those matchless
+        girls.
+
+    Never in that Garden hear they speech of folly, sin, or dread,
+    Only PEACE; "_SALAMUN_" only; that one word for ever said.
+
+    PEACE! PEACE! PEACE!--and the "Companions of the Right Hand" (ah!
+        those bowers!)
+    They shall lodge 'mid thornless lote-groves; under mawz-trees thick
+        with flowers;
+
+    Shaded, fed, by flowing waters; near to fruits that never cloy,
+    Hanging ever ripe for plucking; and at hand the tender joy,
+
+    Of those Maids of Heaven--the H�ris. Lo! to these we gave a birth
+    Specially creating. Lo! they are not as the wives of earth.
+
+    Ever virginal and stainless, howsooften they embrace,
+    Always young, and loved, and loving, these are. Neither is there grace,
+
+    Like the grace and bliss the Black-eyed keep for you in Paradise;
+    Oh, "Companions of the Right Hand"! oh! ye others who were wise!
+
+
+
+
+_DEDICATION OF A POEM FROM THE SANSKRIT_.
+
+
+    Sweet, on the daisies of your English grave
+      I lay this little wreath of Indian flowers,
+    Fragrant for me because the scent they have
+      Breathes of the memory of our wedded hours;
+
+    For others scentless; and for you, in heaven,
+      Too pale and faded, dear dead wife! to wear,
+    Save that they mean--what makes all fault forgiven--
+      That he who brings them lays his heart, too, there.
+
+_April_ 9, 1865.
+
+
+
+
+_THE RAJAH'S RIDE_.
+
+A PUNJAB SONG.
+
+
+    Now is the Devil-horse come to Sindh!
+      Wah! wah! gooroo!--that is true!
+    His belly is stuffed with the fire and the wind,
+      But a fleeter steed had Runjeet Dehu!
+
+    It's forty koss from Lahore to the ford,
+      Forty and more to far Jummoo;
+    Fast may go the Feringhee lord,
+      But never so fast as Runjeet Dehu!
+
+    Runjeet Dehu was King of the Hill,
+      Lord and eagle of every crest;
+    Now the swords and the spears are still,
+      God will have it--and God knows best!
+
+    Rajah Runjeet sate in the sky,
+      Watching the loaded Kafilas in;
+    Affghan, Kashmeree, passing by,
+      Paid him pushm to save their skin,
+
+    Once he caracoled into the plain,
+      Wah! the sparkle of steel on steel!
+    And up the pass came singing again
+      With a lakh of silver borne at his heel.
+
+    Once he trusted the Mussulman's word,
+      Wah! wah! trust a liar to lie!
+    Down from his eyrie they tempted my Bird,
+      And clipped his wings that he could not fly.
+
+    Fettered him fast in far Lahore,
+      Fast by the gate at the Runchenee P�l;
+    Sad was the soul of Chunda Kour,
+      Glad the merchants of rich Kurnool.
+
+    Ten months Runjeet lay in Lahore--
+      Wah! a hero's heart is brass!
+    Ten months never did Chunda Kour
+      Braid her hair at the tiring-glass.
+
+    There came a steed from Toorkistan,
+      Wah! God made him to match the hawk!
+    Fast beside him the four grooms ran,
+      To keep abreast of the Toorkman's walk.
+
+    Black as the bear on Iskardoo;
+      Savage at heart as a tiger chained;
+    Fleeter than hawk that ever flew,
+      Never a Muslim could ride him reined.
+
+    "Runjeet Dehu! come forth from thy hold"--
+      Wah! ten months had rusted his chain!
+    "Ride this Sheitan's liver cold"--
+      Runjeet twisted his hand in the mane.
+
+    Runjeet sprang to the Toorkman's back,
+      Wah! a king on a kingly throne!
+    Snort, black Sheitan! till nostrils crack,
+      Rajah Runjeet sits, a stone.
+
+    Three times round the Maidan he rode,
+      Touched its neck at the Kashmeree wall,
+    Struck the spurs till they spirted blood,
+      Leapt the rampart before them all!
+
+    Breasted the waves of the blue Ravee,
+      Forty horsemen mounting behind,
+    Forty bridle-chains flung free,--
+      Wah! wah! better chase the wind!
+
+    Chunda Kour sate sad in Jummoo:--
+      Hark! what horse-hoof echoes without?
+    "Rise! and welcome Runjeet Dehu--
+      Wash the Toorkman's nostrils out!
+
+    "Forty koss he has come, my life!
+      Forty koss back he must carry me;
+    Rajah Runjeet visits his wife,
+      He steals no steed like an Afreedee.
+
+    "They bade me teach them how to ride--
+      Wah! wah! now I have taught them well!"
+    Chunda Kour sank low at his side!
+      Rajah Runjeet rode the hill.
+
+    When he came back to far Lahore--
+      Long or ever the night began--
+    Spake he, "Take your horse once more,
+      He carries well--when he bears a man."
+
+    Then they gave him a khillut and gold,
+      All for his honour and grace and truth;
+    Sent him back to his mountain-hold--
+      Muslim manners have touch of ruth;
+
+    Sent him back, with dances and drum--
+      Wah! my Rajah Runjeet Dehu!
+    To Chunda Kour and his Jummoo home--
+      Wah! wah! futteh!--wah, gooroo!
+
+
+
+
+_TWO BOOKS FROM THE ILIAD OF INDIA._
+
+
+
+
+_TWO BOOKS FROM THE ILIAD OF INDIA._
+
+(_Now for the first time translated_.)
+
+
+There exist certain colossal, unparalleled, epic poems in the sacred
+language of India, which were not known to Europe, even by name, till Sir
+William Jones announced their existence; and which, since his time, have
+been made public only by fragments--by mere specimens--bearing to those
+vast treasures of Sanskrit literature such small proportion as cabinet
+samples of ore have to the riches of a mine. Yet these twain mighty poems
+contain all the history of ancient India, so far as it can be recovered,
+together with such inexhaustible details of its political, social, and
+religious life that the antique Hindu world really stands epitomised in
+them. The Old Testament is not more interwoven with the Jewish race, nor
+the New Testament with the civilisation of Christendom, nor the Koran with
+the records and destinies of Islam, than are these two Sanskrit poems--the
+Mah�bh�rata and R�m�yana--with that unchanging and teeming population which
+Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, rules as Empress of Hindustan. The stories,
+songs, and ballads, the histories and genealogies, the nursery tales and
+religious discourses, the art, the learning, the philosophy, the creeds,
+the moralities, the modes of thought; the very phrases, sayings, turns of
+expression, and daily ideas of the Hindu people, are taken from these
+poems. Their children and their wives are named out of them; so are their
+cities, temples, streets, and cattle. They have constituted the library,
+the newspaper, and the Bible--generation after generation--to all the
+succeeding and countless millions of Indian people; and it replaces
+patriotism with that race and stands in stead of nationality to possess
+these two precious and inexhaustible books, and to drink from them as from
+mighty and overflowing rivers. The value ascribed in Hindustan to these yet
+little-known epics has transcended all literary standards established in
+the West. They are personified, worshipped, and cited from as something
+divine. To read or even listen to them is thought by the devout Hindu
+sufficiently meritorious to bring prosperity to his household here and
+happiness in the next world; they are held also to give wealth to the poor,
+health to the sick, wisdom to the ignorant; and the recitation of certain
+_parvas_ and _shlokas_ in them can fill the household of the barren, it is
+believed, with children. A concluding passage of the great poem says:--
+
+     "The reading of this Mah�bh�rata destroys all sin and
+     produces virtue; so much so, that the pronunciation of a
+     single shloka is sufficient to wipe away much guilt. This
+     Mah�bh�rata contains the history of the gods, of the Rishis
+     in heaven and those on earth, of the Gandharvas and the
+     R�kshasas. It also contains the life and actions of the one
+     God, holy, immutable, and true,--who is Krishna, who is the
+     creator and the ruler of this universe; who is seeking the
+     welfare of his creation by means of his incomparable and
+     indestructible power; whose actions are celebrated by all
+     sages; who has bound human beings in a chain, of which one
+     end is life and the other death; on whom the Rishis
+     meditate, and a knowledge of whom imparts unalloyed
+     happiness to their hearts, and for whose gratification and
+     favour all the daily devotions are performed by all
+     worshippers. If a man reads the Mah�bh�rata and has faith in
+     its doctrines, he is free from all sin, and ascends to
+     heaven after his death."
+
+In order to explain the portion of this Indian epic, here for the
+first time published in English verse, I reprint a brief summary of
+its plot:--
+
+The "great war of Bh�rat" has its first scenes in Hastinapur, an
+ancient and vanished city, formerly situated about sixty miles
+north-east of the modern Delhi. The Ganges has washed away even the
+ruins of this the metropolis of King Bh�rat's dominions. The poem
+opens with a "sacrifice of snakes," but this is a prelude, connected
+merely by a curious legend with the real beginning. That beginning is
+reached when the five sons of "King Pandu the Pale" and the five sons
+of "King Dhritarashtra the Blind," both of them descendants of Bh�rat,
+are being brought up together in the palace. The first were called
+Pandavas, the last Kauravas, and their lifelong feud is the main
+subject of the epic. Yudhishthira, Bh�ma, Arjuna, Nakula, and Sahadeva
+are the Pandava princes. Duryodhana is chief of the Kauravas. They
+are instructed by one master, Drona, a Brahman, in the arts of war and
+peace, and learn to manage and brand cattle, hunt wild animals, and
+tame horses. There is in the early portion a striking picture of an
+Aryan tournament, wherein the young cousins display their skill,
+"highly arrayed, amid vast crowds," and Arjuna especially
+distinguishes himself. Clad in golden mail, he shows amazing feats
+with sword and bow. He shoots twenty-one arrows into the hollow of a
+buffalo-horn while his chariot whirls along; he throws the "chakra,"
+or sharp quoit, without once missing his victim; and, after winning
+the prizes, kneels respectfully at the feet of his instructor to
+receive his crown. The cousins, after this, march out to fight with a
+neighbouring king, and the Pandavas, who are always the favoured
+family in the poem, win most of the credit, so that Yudhishthira is
+elected from among them _Yuvaraj_, or heir apparent. This incenses
+Duryodhana, who, by appealing to his father, Dhritarashtra, procures a
+division of the kingdom, the Pandavas being sent to Vacanavat, now
+Allahabad. All this part of the story refers obviously to the advances
+gradually made by the Aryan conquerors of India into the jungles
+peopled by aborigines. Forced to quit their new city, the Pandavas
+hear of the marvellous beauty of Draupad�, whose _Swayamvara_, or
+"choice of a suitor," is about to be celebrated at K�mpilya. This
+again furnishes a strange and glittering picture of the old times;
+vast masses of holiday people, with rajahs, elephants, troops,
+jugglers, dancing-women, and showmen, are gathered in a gay encampment
+round the pavilion of the King Draupada, whose lovely daughter is to
+take for her husband (on the well-understood condition that she
+approves of him) the fortunate archer who can strike the eye of a
+golden fish, whirling round upon the top of a tall pole, with an arrow
+shot from an enormously strong bow. The princess, adorned with radiant
+gems, holds a garland of flowers in her hand for the victorious
+suitor; but none of the rajahs can bend the bow. Arjuna, disguised as
+a Brahman, performs the feat with ease, and his youth and grace win
+the heart of Draupad� more completely than his skill. The princess
+henceforth follows the fortunes of the brothers, and, by a strange
+ancient custom, lives with them in common. The Pandavas, now allied to
+the King Draupada and become strong, are so much dreaded by the
+Kauravas that they are invited back again, for safety's sake, to
+Hastinapura, and settle near it in the city of Indraprastha, now
+Delhi. The reign of Yudhishthira and his brothers is very prosperous
+there; "every subject was pious; there were no liars, thieves, or
+cheats; no droughts, floods, or locusts; no conflagrations nor
+invaders, nor parrots to eat up the grain."
+
+The Pandava king, having subdued all enemies, now performs the
+_Rajasuya_, or ceremony of supremacy,--and here again occur
+wonderfully interesting pictures. Duryodhana comes thither, and his
+jealousy is inflamed by the magnificence of the rite. Among other
+curious incidents is one which seems to show that glass was already
+known. A pavilion is paved with "black crystal," which the Kaurava
+prince mistakes for water, and "draws up his garments lest he should
+be wetted." But now approaches a turning-point in the epic. Furious at
+the wealth and fortune of his cousins, Duryodhana invites them to
+Hastinapura to join in a great gambling festival. The passion for play
+was as strong apparently with these antique Hindus as that for
+fighting or for love: "No true Kshatriya must ever decline a challenge
+to combat or to dice." The brothers go to the entertainment, which is
+to ruin their prosperity; for Sakuni, the most skilful and lucky
+gambler, has loaded the "coupun," so as to win every throw. Mr.
+Wheeler's excellent summary again says:--
+
+     "Then Yudhishthira and Sakuni sat down to play, and whatever
+     Yudhishthira laid as stakes Duryodhana laid something of
+     equal value; but Yudhishthira lost every game. He first lost
+     a very beautiful pearl; next a thousand bags each containing
+     a thousand pieces of gold; next a great piece of gold so
+     pure that it was as soft as wax; next a chariot set with
+     jewels and hung all round with golden bells; next a thousand
+     war-elephants with golden howdahs set with diamonds; next a
+     lakh of slaves all dressed in rich garments; next a lakh of
+     beautiful slave-girls, adorned from head to foot with golden
+     ornaments; next all the remainder of his goods; next all his
+     cattle; and then the whole of his R�j, excepting only the
+     lands which had been granted to the Brahmans."
+
+After this tremendous run of ill-luck, he madly stakes Draupad� the
+Beautiful, and loses her. The princess is dragged away by the hair,
+and Duryodhana mockingly bids her come and sit upon his knee, for
+which Bh�ma the Pandava swears that he will some day break his
+thigh-bone,--a vow which is duly kept. But the blind old king rebukes
+this fierce elation of the winner, restores Draupad�, and declares
+that they must throw another main to decide who shall leave
+Hastinapura. The cheating Sakuni cogs the dice again, and the Pandavas
+must now go away into the forest, and let no man know them by name for
+thirteen years. They depart, Draupad� unbinding her long black hair,
+and vowing never to fasten it back again till the hands of Bh�ma, the
+strong man among the Pandavas, are red with the punishment of the
+Kauravas. "Then he shall tie my tresses up again, when his fingers are
+dripping with Duhsasana's blood."
+
+There follow long episodes of their adventures in the jungle till the
+time when the Pandavas emerge, and, still disguised, take up their
+residence in King Vir�ta's city. Here the vicissitudes of Draupad� as
+a handmaid of the queen, of Bh�ma as the palace wrestler, of Arjuna
+disguised as a eunuch, and of Nakula, Sahadeva, and Yudhishthira,
+acting as herdsmen and attendants, are most absorbing and dramatic.
+The virtue of Draupad�, assailed by a prince of the State, is terribly
+defended by the giant Bh�ma; and when the Kauravas, suspecting the
+presence in the place of their cousins, attack Vir�ta, Arjuna drives
+the chariot of the heir apparent, and victoriously repulses them with
+his awful bow Gandiva.
+
+After all these evidences of prowess and the help afforded in the
+battle, the King of Vir�ta discovers the princely rank of the
+Pandavas, and gives his daughter in marriage to the son of Arjuna. A
+great council is then held to consider the question of declaring war
+on the Kauravas, at which the speeches are quite Homeric, the god
+Krishna taking part. The decision is to prepare for war, but to send
+an embassy first. Meantime Duryodhana and Arjuna engage in a singular
+contest to obtain the aid of Krishna, whom both of them seek out. This
+celestial hero is asleep when they arrive, and the proud Kaurava, as
+Lord of Indraprastha, sits down at his head; Arjuna, more reverently,
+takes a place at his feet. Krishna, awaking, offers to give his vast
+army to one of them, and himself as counsellor to the other; and
+Arjuna gladly allows Duryodhana to take the army, which turns out much
+the worse bargain. The embassy, meantime, is badly received; but it is
+determined to reply by a counter-message, while warlike preparations
+continue. There is a great deal of useless negotiation, against which
+Draupad� protests, like another Constance, saying, "War, war! no
+peace! Peace is to me a war!" Krishna consoles her with the words,
+"Weep not! the time has nearly come when the Kauravas will be slain,
+both great and small, and their wives will mourn as you have been
+mourning." The ferocity of the chief of the Kauravas prevails over the
+wise counsels of the blind old king and the warnings of Krishna, so
+that the fatal conflict must now begin upon the plain of Kurukshetra.
+
+All is henceforth martial and stormy in the "parvas" that ensue. The
+two enormous hosts march to the field, generalissimos are selected,
+and defiances of the most violent and abusive sort exchanged. Yet
+there are traces of a singular civilisation in the rules which the
+leaders draw up to be observed in the war. Thus, no stratagems are to
+be used; the fighting men are to fraternise, if they will, after each
+combat; none may slay the flier, the unarmed, the charioteer, or the
+beater of the drum; horsemen are not to attack footmen, and nobody is
+to fling a spear till the preliminary challenges are finished; nor may
+any third man interfere when two combatants are engaged. These curious
+regulations--which would certainly much embarrass Von Moltke--are,
+sooth to say, not very strictly observed, and, no doubt, were inserted
+at a later age in the body of the poem by its Brahman editors. Those
+same interpolaters have overloaded the account of the eighteen days of
+terrific battle which follow with many episodes and interruptions,
+some very eloquent and philosophic; indeed, the whole _Bhagavad-G�ta_
+comes in hereabouts as a religious interlude. Essays on laws, morals,
+and the sciences are grafted, with lavish indifference to the
+continuous flow of the narrative, upon its most important portions;
+but there is enough of solid and tremendous fighting, notwithstanding,
+to pale the crimson pages of the Greek Iliad itself. The field
+glitters, indeed, with kings and princes in panoply of gold and
+jewels, who engage in mighty and varied combats, till the earth swims
+in blood, and the heavens themselves are obscured with dust and flying
+weapons. One by one the Kaurava chiefs are slain, and Bh�ma, the
+giant, at last meets in arms Duhsasana, the Kaurava prince who had
+dragged Draupad� by the hair. He strikes him down with the terrible
+mace of iron, after which he cuts off his head, and drinks of his
+blood, saying, "Never have I tasted a draught so delicious as this."
+So furious now becomes the war that even the just and mild Arjuna
+commits two breaches of Aryan chivalry,--killing an enemy while
+engaged with a third man, and shooting Karna dead while he is
+extricating his chariot-wheel and without a weapon. At last none are
+left of the chief Kauravas except Duryodhana, who retires from the
+field and hides in an island of the lake. The Pandavas find him out,
+and heap such reproaches on him that the surly warrior comes forth at
+length, and agrees to fight with Bh�ma. The duel proves of a
+tremendous nature, and is decided by an act of treachery; for Arjuna,
+standing by, reminds Bh�ma, by a gesture, of his oath to break the
+thigh of Duryodhana, because he had bidden Draupad� sit on his knee.
+The giant takes the hint, and strikes a foul blow, which cripples the
+Kaurava hero, and he falls helpless to earth. After this the Pandava
+princes are declared victorious, and Yudhishthira is proclaimed king.
+
+The great poem soon softens its martial music into a pathetic strain.
+The dead have to be burned, and the living reconciled to their new
+lords; while afterwards King Yudhishthira is installed in high state
+with "ch�maras, golden umbrellas, elephants, and singing." He is
+enthroned facing towards the east, and touches rice, flowers, earth,
+gold, silver, and jewels, in token of owning all the products of his
+realm. Being thus firmly seated on his throne, with his cousins round
+him, the Rajah prepares to celebrate the most magnificent of ancient
+Hindu rites,--the _Aswamedha_, or Sacrifice of the Horse. It is
+difficult to raise the thoughts of a modern and Western public to the
+solemnity, majesty, and marvel of this antique Oriental rite, as
+viewed by Hindus. The monarch who was powerful enough to perform it
+chose a horse of pure white colour, "like the moon," with a saffron
+tail, and a black right ear; or the animal might be all black, without
+a speck of colour. This steed, wearing a gold plate on its forehead,
+with the royal name inscribed, was turned loose, and during a whole
+year the king's army was bound to follow its wanderings. Whithersoever
+it went, the ruler of the invaded territory must either pay homage to
+the king, and join him with his warriors, or accept battle; but
+whether conquered or peacefully submitting, all these princes must
+follow the horse, and at the end of the year assist at the sacrifice
+of the consecrated animal. Moreover, during the whole year the king
+must restrain all passion, live a perfectly purified life, and sleep
+on the bare ground. The white horse could not be loosened until the
+night of the full moon in _Chaitra_, which answers to the latter half
+of March and the first half of April,--in fact, at Easter-time; and it
+may be observed here that this is not the only strange coincidence in
+the sacrifice. It was thus an adventure of romantic conquest, mingled
+with deep religion and arrogant ostentation; and the entire
+description of the _Aswamedha_ would prove most interesting. The horse
+is found, is adorned with the golden plate, and turned loose,
+wandering into distant regions; where the army of Arjuna--for it was
+he who led Yudhishthira's forces--goes through twelve amazing
+adventures. They come, for instance, to a land of Amazons, all of
+wonderful beauty, wearing armour of pearls and gold, and equally fatal
+either to love or to fight with. These dazzling enemies, however,
+finally submit, as also the Rajah of the rich city of Babhruv�han,
+which possessed high walls of solid silver, and was lighted with
+precious jewels for lamps. The serpent people, in the same way, who
+live beneath the earth in the city of Vasuki, yield, after combat, to
+Arjuna. A thousand million semi-human snakemen dwelt there, with wives
+of consummate loveliness, possessing in their realm gems which would
+restore dead people to life, as well as a fountain of perpetual youth.
+Finally, Arjuna's host marches back in great glory, and with a vast
+train of vanquished monarchs, to the city of Hastinapura, where all
+the subject kings have audience of Yudhishthira, and the immense
+preparations begin for the sacrifice of the snow-white horse.
+
+After all these stately celebrations, it might be expected that the
+great poem would conclude with the established glories of the ancient
+dynasty. But if the martial part of the colossal epic is "Kshatriyan,"
+and the religious episodes "Brahmanic," the conclusion breathes the
+spirit of Buddhism. Yudhishthira sits grandly on the throne; but
+earthly greatness does not content the soul of man, nor can riches
+render weary hearts happy. A wonderful scene, which reads like a
+rebuke from the dead addressed to the living upon the madness of all
+war, occurs in this part of the poem. The Pandavas and the old King
+Dhritarashtra being together by the banks of the Ganges, the great
+saint Vy�sa undertakes to bring back to them all the departed, slain
+in their fratricidal conflict. The spectacle is at once terrible and
+tender.
+
+But this revealing of the invisible world deepens the discontent of
+the princes, and when the sage Vy�sa tells them that their prosperity
+is near its end, they determine to leave their kingdom to younger
+princes, and to set out with their faces towards Mount Meru, where is
+Indra's heaven. If, haply, they may reach it, there will be an end of
+this world's joys and sorrows, and "union with the Infinite" will be
+obtained. My translations from the Sanskrit of the two concluding
+parvas of the poem (of which the above is a swift summary) describe
+the "Last Journey" of the princes and their "Entry into Heaven;" and
+herein occurs one of the noblest religious apologues not only of this
+great Epic but of any creed,--a beautiful fable of faithful love
+which may be contrasted, to the advantage of the Hindu teaching, with
+any Scriptural representations of Death, and of Love, "which stronger
+is than Death." There is always something selfish in the anxiety of
+Orthodox people to save their own souls, and our best religious
+language is not free from that taint of pious egotism. The Parvas of
+the Mah�bh�rata which contain Yudhishthira's approach to Indra's
+paradise teach, on the contrary, that deeper and better lesson nobly
+enjoined by an American poet--
+
+    "The gate of heaven opens to none alone,
+    Save thou one soul, and it shall save thine own."
+
+These prefatory remarks seemed necessary to introduce the subjoined
+close paraphrase of the "Book of the Great Journey,"--and the "Book of
+the Entry into Heaven;" being the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Parvas of
+the noble but, as yet, almost unknown Mah�bh�rata.
+
+
+
+
+THE MAHAPRASTH�NIKA PARVA OF THE MAH�BH�RATA.
+
+"THE GREAT JOURNEY."
+
+
+    _To Narayen, Lord of lords, be glory given,
+    To sweet Saraswati, the Queen in Heaven,
+    To great Vy�sa, eke, pay reverence due,
+    So shall this story its high course pursue._
+
+    Then Janmejaya prayed: "Thou Singer, say,
+    What wrought the princes of the Pandavas
+    On tidings of the battle so ensued,
+    And Krishna, gone on high?"
+
+                                 Answered the Sage:
+    "On tidings of the wreck of Vrishni's race,
+    King Yudhishthira of the Pandavas
+    Was minded to be done with earthly things,
+    And to Arjuna spake: 'O noble Prince,
+    Time endeth all; we linger, noose on neck,
+    Till the last day tightens the line, and kills.
+    Let us go forth to die, being yet alive,'
+    And Kunti's son, the great Arjuna, said:
+    'Let us go forth to die!--Time slayeth all;
+    We will find Death, who seeketh other men.'
+    And Bhimasena, hearing, answered: 'Yea!
+    We will find Death!' and Sahadev cried: 'Yea!'
+    And his twin brother Nakula: whereat
+    The princes set their faces for the Mount.
+
+    "But Yudhishthira--ere he left his realm,
+    To seek high ending--summoned Yuyutsu,
+    Surnamed of fights, and set him over all,
+    Regent, to rule in Parikshita's name
+    Nearest the throne; and Parikshita king
+    He crowned, and unto old Subhadra said:
+    'This, thy son's son, shall wear the Kuru crown,
+    And Yadu's offspring, Vajra, shall be first
+    In Yadu's house. Bring up the little prince
+    Here in our Hastinapur, but Vajra keep
+    At Indraprasth; and let it be thy last
+    Of virtuous works to guard the lads, and guide.'
+
+    "So ordering ere he went, the righteous king
+    Made offering of white water, heedfully,
+    To Vasudev, to Rama, and the rest,--
+    All funeral rites performing; next he spread
+    A funeral feast, whereat there sate as guests
+    Narada, Dwaipayana, Bharadwaj,
+    And Markandeya, rich in saintly years,
+    And Tajnavalkya, Hari, and the priests.
+    Those holy ones he fed with dainty meats
+    In kingliest wise, naming the name of Him
+    Who bears the bow: and--that it should be well
+    For him and his--gave to the Brahmanas
+    Jewels of gold and silver, lakhs on lakhs.
+    Fair broidered cloths, gardens and villages,
+    Chariots and steeds and slaves.
+
+                                 "Which being done,--
+    O Best of Bh�rat's line!--he bowed him low
+    Before his Guru's feet,--at Kripa's feet,
+    That sage all honoured,--saying, 'Take my prince;
+    Teach Parikshita as thou taughtest me;
+    For hearken, ministers and men of war!
+    Fixed is my mind to quit all earthly state.'
+    Full sore of heart were they, and sore the folk
+    To hear such speech, and bitter spread the word
+    Through town and country, that the king would go;
+    And all the people cried, 'Stay with us, Lord!'
+    But Yudhishthira knew the time was come,
+    Knew that life passes and that virtue lasts,
+    And put aside their love.
+
+                                 "So--with farewells
+    Tenderly took of lieges and of lords--
+    Girt he for travel, with his princely kin,
+    Great Yudhishthira, Dharma's royal son.
+    Crest-gem and belt and ornaments he stripped
+    From off his body, and, for broidered robe
+    A rough dress donned, woven of jungle-bark;
+    And what he did--O Lord of men!--so did
+    Arjuna, Bh�ma, and the twin-born pair,
+    Nakula with Sahadev, and she--in grace
+    The peerless--Draupad�. Lastly these six,
+    Thou son of Bh�rata! in solemn form
+    Made the high sacrifice of Naishtiki,
+    Quenching their flames in water at the close;
+    And so set forth, 'midst wailing of all folk
+    And tears of women, weeping most to see
+    The Princess Draupad�--that lovely prize
+    Of the great gaming, Draupad� the Bright--
+    Journeying afoot; but she and all the Five
+    Rejoiced, because their way lay heavenwards.
+
+    "Seven were they, setting forth,--princess and king,
+    The king's four brothers, and a faithful dog.
+    Those left Hastinapur; but many a man,
+    And all the palace household, followed them
+    The first sad stage; and, ofttimes prayed to part,
+    Put parting off for love and pity, still
+    Sighing 'A little farther!'--till day waned;
+    Then one by one they turned, and Kripa said,
+    'Let all turn back, Yuyutsu! These must go.'
+    So came they homewards, but the Snake-King's child,
+    Ul�pi, leapt in Ganges, losing them;
+    And Chitran�gad with her people went
+    Mournful to Munipoor, whilst the three queens
+    Brought Parikshita in.
+
+                                 "Thus wended they,
+    Pandu's five sons and loveliest Draupad�,
+    Tasting no meat, and journeying due east;
+    On righteousness their high hearts bent, to heaven
+    Their souls assigned; and steadfast trode their feet,
+    By faith upborne, past nullah, ran, and wood,
+    River and jheel and plain. King Yudhishthir
+    Walked foremost, Bh�ma followed, after him
+    Arjuna, and the twin-born brethren next,
+    Nakula with Sahadev; in whose still steps--
+    O Best of Bh�rat's offspring!--Draupad�,
+    That gem of women, paced; with soft, dark face,--
+    Beautiful, wonderful!--and lustrous eyes,
+    Clear-lined like lotus-petals; last the dog,
+    Following the Pandavas.
+
+                                 "At length they reach
+    The far Lauchityan Sea, which foameth white
+    Under Udayach�la's ridge.--Know ye
+    That all this while Nakula had not ceased
+    Bearing the holy bow, named Gandiva,
+    And jewelled quiver, ever filled with shafts
+    Though one should shoot a thousand thousand times.
+    Here--broad across their path--the heroes see
+    Agni, the god. As though a mighty hill
+    Took form of front and breast and limb, he spake.
+    Seven streams of shining splendour rayed his brow,
+    While the dread voice said: 'I am Agni, chiefs!
+    O sons of Pandu, I am Agni! Hail!
+    O long-armed Yudhishthira, blameless king,--
+    O warlike Bh�ma,--O Arjuna, wise,--
+    O brothers twin-born from a womb divine,--
+    Hear! I am Agni, who consumed the wood
+    By will of Narayan for Arjuna's sake.
+    Let this your brother give Gandiva back--
+    The matchless bow: the use for it is o'er.
+    That gem-ringed battle-discus which he whirled
+    Cometh again to Krishna in his hand
+    For avatars to be; and need is none
+    Henceforth of this most excellent bright bow,
+    Gandiva, which I brought for Partha's aid
+    From high Varuna. Let it be returned.
+    Cast it herein!'
+
+                      "And all the princes said,
+    'Cast it, dear brother!' So Arjuna threw
+    Into that sea the quiver ever-filled,
+    And glittering bow. Then led by Agni's light,
+    Unto the south they turned, and so south-west,
+    And afterwards right west, until they saw
+    Dwaraka, washed and bounded by a main
+    Loud-thundering on its shores; and here--O Best!--
+    Vanished the God; while yet those heroes walked,
+    Now to the north-west bending, where long coasts
+    Shut in the sea of salt, now to the north,
+    Accomplishing all quarters, journeyed they;
+    The earth their altar of high sacrifice,
+    Which these most patient feet did pace around
+    Till Meru rose.
+
+                      "At last it rose! These Six,
+    Their senses subjugate, their spirits pure,
+    Wending alone, came into sight--far off
+    In the eastern sky--of awful Himavan;
+    And, midway in the peaks of Himavan,
+    Meru, the Mountain of all mountains, rose,
+    Whose head is Heaven; and under Himavan
+    Glared a wide waste of sand, dreadful as death.
+
+    "Then, as they hastened o'er the deadly waste,
+    Aiming for Meru, having thoughts at soul
+    Infinite, eager,--lo! Draupad� reeled,
+    With faltering heart and feet; and Bh�ma turned
+    Gazing upon her; and that hero spake
+    To Yudhishthira: 'Master, Brother, King
+    Why doth she fail? For never all her life
+    Wrought our sweet lady one thing wrong, I think.
+    Thou knowest, make us know, why hath she failed?'
+
+    "Then Yudhishthira answered: 'Yea, one thing.
+    She loved our brother better than all else,--
+    Better than heaven: that was her tender sin,
+    Fault of a faultless soul; she pays for that'
+    'So spake the monarch, turning not his eyes,
+    Though Draupad� lay dead--striding straight on
+    For Meru, heart-full of the things of heaven,
+    Perfect and firm. But yet a little space,
+    And Sahadev fell down, which Bh�ma seeing,
+    Cried once again: 'O King, great Madri's son
+    Stumbles and sinks. Why hath he sunk?--so true,
+    So brave and steadfast, and so free from pride!'
+
+    "'He was not free,' with countenance still fixed,
+    Quoth Yudhishthira; 'he was true and fast
+    And wise, yet wisdom made him proud; he hid
+    One little hurt of soul, but now it kills.'
+
+    "So saying, he strode on--Kunti's strong son--
+    And Bh�ma, and Arjuna followed him,
+    And Nakula, and the hound; leaving behind
+    Sahadev in the sands. But Nakula,
+    Weakened and grieved to see Sahadev fall--
+    His loved twin-brother--lagged and stayed; and next
+    Prone on his face he fell, that noble face
+    Which had no match for beauty in the land,--
+    Glorious and godlike Nakula! Then sighed
+    Bh�ma anew: 'Brother and Lord! the man
+    Who never erred from virtue, never broke
+    Our fellowship, and never in the world
+    Was matched for goodly perfectness of form
+    Or gracious feature,--Nakula has fallen!'
+
+    "But Yudhishthira, holding fixed his eyes,--
+    That changeless, faithful, all-wise king,--replied:
+    'Yea, but he erred. The godlike form he wore
+    Beguiled him to believe none like to him,
+    And he alone desirable, and things
+    Unlovely to be slighted. Self-love slays
+    Our noble brother. Bh�ma, follow! Each
+    Pays what his debt was.'
+
+                          "Which Arjuna heard,
+    Weeping to see them fall; and that stout son
+    Of Pandu, that destroyer of his foes,
+    That prince, who drove through crimson waves of war,
+    In old days, with his chariot-steeds of milk,
+    He, the arch-hero, sank! Beholding this,--
+    The yielding of that soul unconquerable,
+    Fearless, divine, from S�kra's self derived,
+    Arjuna's,--Bh�ma cried aloud: 'O king!
+    This man was surely perfect. Never once,
+    Not even in slumber when the lips are loosed,
+    Spake he one word that was not true as truth.
+    Ah, heart of gold, why art thou broke? O King!
+    Whence falleth he?'
+
+                          "And Yudhishthira said,
+    Not pausing: 'Once he lied, a lordly lie!
+    He bragged--our brother--that a single day
+    Should see him utterly consume, alone,
+    All those his enemies,--which could not be.
+    Yet from a great heart sprang the unmeasured speech.
+    Howbeit, a finished hero should not shame
+    Himself in such wise, nor his enemy,
+    If he will faultless fight and blameless die:
+    This was Arjuna's sin. Follow thou me!'
+
+    "So the king still went on. But Bh�ma next
+    Fainted, and stayed upon the way, and sank;
+    Yet, sinking cried, behind the steadfast prince:
+    'Ah, brother, see! I die! Look upon me,
+    Thy well-beloved! Wherefore falter I,
+    Who strove to stand?'
+
+                          "And Yudhishthira said:
+    'More than was well the goodly things of earth
+    Pleased thee, my pleasant brother! Light the offence,
+    And large thy virtue; but the o'er-fed flesh
+    Plumed itself over spirit. Pritha's son,
+    For this thou failest, who so near didst gain.'
+
+    "Thenceforth alone the long-armed monarch strode,
+    Not looking back,--nay! not for Bh�ma's sake,--
+    But walking with his face set for the Mount:
+    And the hound followed him,--only the hound.
+
+    "After the deathly sands, the Mount! and lo!
+    S�kra shone forth,--the God, filling the earth
+    And heavens with thunder of his chariot-wheels.
+    'Ascend,' he said, 'with me, Pritha's great son!'
+    But Yudhishthira answered, sore at heart
+    For those his kinsfolk, fallen on the way:
+    'O Thousand-eyed, O Lord of all the Gods,
+    Give that my brothers come with me, who fell!
+    Not without them is Swarga sweet to me.
+    She too, the dear and kind and queenly,--she
+    Whose perfect virtue Paradise must crown,--
+    Grant her to come with us! Dost thou grant this?'
+
+    "The God replied: 'In heaven thou shalt see
+    Thy kinsmen and the queen--these will attain--
+    With Krishna. Grieve no longer for thy dead,
+    Thou chief of men! their mortal covering stripped,
+    They have their places; but to thee the gods
+    Allot an unknown grace: thou shalt go up
+    Living and in thy form to the immortal homes.'
+
+    "But the king answered: 'O thou Wisest One,
+    Who know'st what was, and is, and is to be,
+    Still one more grace! This hound hath ate with me,
+    Followed me, loved me: must I leave him now?'
+
+    "'Monarch,' spake Indra, 'thou art now as We,--
+    Deathless, divine; thou art become a god;
+    Glory and power and gifts celestial,
+    And all the joys of heaven are thine for aye:
+    What hath a beast with these? Leave here thy hound.'
+
+    "Yet Yudhishthira answered: 'O Most High,
+    O Thousand-eyed and Wisest! can it be
+    That one exalted should seem pitiless?
+    Nay, let me lose such glory: for its sake
+    I would not leave one living thing I loved.'
+
+    "Then sternly Indra spake: 'He is unclean,
+    And into Swarga such shall enter not.
+    The Krodhavasha's hand destroys the fruits
+    Of sacrifice, if dogs defile the fire.
+    Bethink thee, Dharmaraj, quit now this beast!
+    That which is seemly is not hard of heart.'
+
+    "Still he replied: ''Tis written that to spurn
+    A suppliant equals in offence to slay
+    A twice-born; wherefore, not for Swarga's bliss
+    Quit I, Mahendra, this poor clinging dog,--
+    So without any hope or friend save me,
+    So wistful, fawning for my faithfulness,
+    So agonized to die, unless I help
+    Who among men was called steadfast and just.'
+
+    "Quoth Indra: 'Nay! the altar-flame is foul
+    Where a dog passeth; angry angels sweep
+    The ascending smoke aside, and all the fruits
+    Of offering, and the merit of the prayer
+    Of him whom a hound toucheth. Leave it here!
+    He that will enter heaven must enter pure.
+    Why didst thou quit thy brethren on the way,
+    Quit Krishna, quit the dear-loved Draupad�,
+    Attaining, firm and glorious, to this Mount
+    Through perfect deeds, to linger for a brute?
+    Hath Yudhishthira vanquished self, to melt
+    With one poor passion at the door of bliss?
+    Stay'st thou for this, who didst not stay for them,--
+    Draupad�, Bh�ma?'
+
+                          "But the king yet spake:
+    ''Tis known that none can hurt or help the dead.
+    They, the delightful ones, who sank and died,
+    Following my footsteps, could not live again
+    Though I had turned,--therefore I did not turn;
+    But could help profit, I had turned to help.
+    There be four sins, O S�kra, grievous sins:
+    The first is making suppliants despair,
+    The second is to slay a nursing wife,
+    The third is spoiling Brahmans' goods by force,
+    The fourth is injuring an ancient friend.
+    These four I deem not direr than the sin,
+    If one, in coming forth from woe to weal,
+    Abandon any meanest comrade then.'
+
+    "Straight as he spake, brightly great Indra smiled;
+    Vanished the hound;--and in its stead stood there
+    The Lord of Death and Justice, Dharma's self!
+    Sweet were the words which fell from those dread lips,
+    Precious the lovely praise: 'O thou true king,
+    Thou that dost bring to harvest the good seed
+    Of Pandu's righteousness; thou that hast ruth
+    As he before, on all which lives!--O Son,
+    I tried thee in the Dwaita wood, what time
+    The Yaksha smote them, bringing water; then
+    Thou prayedst for Nakula's life--tender and just--
+    Not Bh�ma's nor Arjuna's, true to both,
+    To Madr� as to Kunt�, to both queens.
+    Hear thou my word! Because thou didst not mount
+    This car divine, lest the poor hound be shent
+    Who looked to thee, lo! there is none in heaven
+    Shall sit above thee, King!--Bh�rata's son,
+    Enter thou now to the eternal joys,
+    Living and in thy form. Justice and Love
+    Welcome thee, Monarch! thou shalt throne with us!'
+
+    "Thereat those mightiest Gods, in glorious train,
+    Mahendra, Dharma,--with bright retinue
+    Of Maruts, Saints, Aswin-Kum�ras, Nats,
+    Spirits and Angels,--bore the king aloft,
+    The thundering chariot first, and after it
+    Those airy-moving Presences. Serene,
+    Clad in great glory, potent, wonderful,
+    They glide at will,--at will they know and see,
+    At wish their wills are wrought; for these are pure,
+    Passionless, hallowed, perfect, free of earth,
+    In such celestial midst the Pandu king
+    Soared upward; and a sweet light filled the sky
+    And fell on earth, cast by his face and form,
+    Transfigured as he rose; and there was heard
+    The voice of Narad,--it is he who sings,
+    Sitting in heaven, the deeds that good men do
+    In all the quarters,--Narad, chief of bards,
+    Narad the wise, who laudeth purity,--
+    So cried he: 'Thou art risen, unmatched king,
+    Whose greatness is above all royal saints.
+    Hail, son of Pandu! like to thee is none
+    Now or before among the sons of men,
+    Whose fame hath filled the three wide worlds, who com'st
+    Bearing thy mortal body, which doth shine
+    With radiance as a god's.'
+
+                          "The glad king heard
+    Narad's loud praise; he saw the immortal gods,--
+    Dharma, Mahendra; and dead chiefs and saints,
+    Known upon earth, in blessed heaven he saw;
+    But only those. 'I do desire,' he said,
+    'That region, be it of the Blest as this,
+    Or of the Sorrowful some otherwhere,
+    Where my dear brothers are, and Draupad�.
+    I cannot stay elsewhere! I see them not!'
+
+    "Then answer made Purandar�, the God:
+    'O thou compassionate and noblest One,
+    Rest in the pleasures which thy deeds have gained.
+    How, being as are the Gods, canst thou live bound
+    By mortal chains? Thou art become of Us,
+    Who live above hatred and love, in bliss
+    Pinnacled, safe, supreme. Sun of thy race.
+    Thy brothers cannot reach where thou hast climbed:
+    Most glorious lord of men, let not thy peace
+    Be touched by stir of earth! Look! this is Heaven.
+    See where the saints sit, and the happy souls,
+    Siddhas and angels, and the gods who live
+    For ever and for ever.'
+
+                          "'King of gods,'
+    Spake Yudhishthira, 'but I will not live
+    A little space without those souls I loved.
+    O Slayer of the demons! let me go
+    Where Bh�ma and my brothers are, and she,
+    My Draupad�, the princess with the face
+    Softer and darker than the Vrihat-leaf,
+    And soul as sweet as are its odours. Lo!
+    Where they have gone, there will I surely go,'"
+
+
+
+
+_THE ILIAD OF INDIA._
+
+THE SWARGAROHANA PARVA OF THE MAH�BHARATA; OR, "THE ENTRY INTO
+HEAVEN."
+
+
+    _To Narayen, Lord of lords, be glory given,
+    To Queen Saraswati be praise in heaven;
+    Unto Vy�sa pay the reverence due,--
+    So may this story its high course pursue._
+
+    Then Janmejaya said: "I am fain to learn
+    How it befell with my great forefathers,
+    The Pandu chiefs and Dhritarashtra's sons,
+    Being to heaven ascended. If thou know'st,--
+    And thou know'st all, whom wise Vy�sa taught--
+    Tell me, how fared it with those mighty souls?"
+
+    Answered the Sage: "Hear of thy forefathers--
+    Great Yudhishthira and the Pandu lords--
+    How it befell. When thus the blameless king
+    Was entered into heaven, there he beheld
+    Duryodhana, his foe, throned as a god
+    Amid the gods; splendidly sate that prince,
+    Peaceful and proud, the radiance of his brows
+    Far-shining like the sun's; and round him thronged
+    Spirits of light, with S�dhyas,--companies
+    Goodly to see. But when the king beheld
+    Duryodhana in bliss, and not his own,--
+    Not Draupad�, nor Bh�ma, nor the rest,--
+    With quick-averted face and angry eyes
+    The monarch spake: 'Keep heaven for such as these
+    If these come here! I do not wish to dwell
+    Where he is, whom I hated rightfully,
+    Being a covetous and witless prince,
+    Whose deed it was that in wild fields of war
+    Brothers and friends by mutual slaughter fell,
+    While our swords smote, sharpened so wrathfully
+    By all those wrongs borne wandering in the woods:
+    But Draupad�'s the deepest wrong, for he--
+    He who sits there--haled her before the court,
+    Seizing that sweet and virtuous lady--he!--
+    With grievous hand wound in her tresses. Gods,
+    I cannot look upon him! Sith 'tis so,
+    Where are my brothers? Thither will I go!'
+
+    "Smiling, bright Narada, the Sage, replied:
+    'Speak thou not rashly! Say not this, O King!
+    Those who come here lay enmities aside.
+    O Yudhishthira, long-armed monarch, hear!
+    Duryodhana is cleansed of sin; he sits
+    Worshipful as the saints, worshipped by saints
+    And kings who lived and died in virtue's path,
+    Attaining to the joys which heroes gain
+    Who yield their breath in battle. Even so
+    He that did wrong thee, knowing not thy worth,
+    Hath won before thee hither, raised to bliss
+    For lordliness, and valour free of fear.
+    Ah, well-beloved Prince! ponder thou not
+    The memory of that gaming, nor the griefs
+    Of Draupad�, nor any vanished hurt
+    Wrought in the passing shows of life by craft
+    Or wasteful war. Throne happy at the side
+    Of this thy happy foeman,--wiser now;
+    For here is Paradise, thou chief of men!
+    And in its holy air hatreds are dead.'
+
+    "Thus by such lips addressed the Pandu king
+    Answered uncomforted: 'Duryodhana,
+    If he attains, attains; yet not the less
+    Evil he lived and ill he died,--a heart
+    Impious and harmful, bringing woes to all,
+    To friends and foes. His was the crime which cost
+    Our land its warriors, horses, elephants;
+    His the black sin that set us in the field,
+    Burning for rightful vengeance. Ye are gods,
+    And just; and ye have granted heaven to him.
+    Show me the regions, therefore, where they dwell,
+    My brothers, those, the noble-souled, the loyal,
+    Who kept the sacred laws, who swerved no step
+    From virtue's path, who spake the truth, and lived
+    Foremost of warriors. Where is Kunti's son,
+    The hero-hearted Karna? Where are gone
+    S�tyaki, Dhrishtadyumna, with their sons?
+    And where those famous chiefs who fought for me.
+    Dying a splendid death? I see them not.
+    O Narada, I see them not! No King
+    Draupada! no Vir�ta! no glad face
+    Of Dhrisktaketu! no Shikandina,
+    Prince of Panch�la, nor his princely boys!
+    Nor Abhimanyu the unconquerable!
+    President Gods of heaven! I see not here
+    Radha's bright son, nor Yudhamanyu,
+    Nor Uttamanjaso, his brother dear!
+    Where are those noble Maharashtra lords,
+    Rajahs and rajpoots, slain for love of me?
+    Dwell they in glory elsewhere, not yet seen?
+    If they be here, high Gods! and those with them
+    For whose sweet sakes I lived, here will I live,
+    Meek-hearted; but if such be not adjudged
+    Worthy, I am not worthy, nor my soul
+    Willing to rest without them. Ah, I burn,
+    Now in glad heaven, with grief, bethinking me
+    Of those my mother's words, what time I poured
+    Death-water for my dead at Kurkshetra,--
+    "Pour for Prince Karna, Son!" but I wist not
+    His feet were as my mother's feet, his blood
+    Her blood, my blood. O Gods! I did not know,--
+    Albeit S�kra's self had failed to break
+    Our battle, where _he_ stood. I crave to see
+    Surya's child, that glorious chief who fell
+    By Saryas�chi's hand, unknown of me;
+    And Bh�ma! ah, my Bh�ma! dearer far
+    Than life to me; Arjuna, like a god,
+    Nakla and Sahadev, twin lords of war,
+    With tenderest Draupad�! Show me those souls!
+    I cannot tarry where I have them not.
+    Bliss is not blissful, just and mighty Ones!
+    Save if I rest beside them. Heaven is there
+    Where Love and Faith make heaven. Let me go!'
+
+    "And answer made the hearkening heavenly Ones:
+    'Go, if it seemeth good to thee, dear Son!
+    The King of gods commands we do thy will.'"
+
+    So saying [the Bard went on] Dharma's own voice
+    Gave ordinance, and from the shining bands
+    A golden Deva glided, taking hest
+    To guide the king there where his kinsmen were.
+    So wended these, the holy angel first,
+    And in his steps the king, close following.
+    Together passed they through the gates of pearl,
+    Together heard them close; then to the left
+    Descending, by a path evil and dark,
+    Hard to be traversed, rugged, entered they
+    The 'SINNERS' ROAD.' The tread of sinful feet
+    Matted the thick thorns carpeting its slope;
+    The smell of sin hung foul on them; the mire
+    About their roots was trampled filth of flesh
+    Horrid with rottenness, and splashed with gore
+    Curdling in crimson puddles; where there buzzed
+    And sucked and settled creatures of the swamp,
+    Hideous in wing and sting, gnat-clouds and flies,
+    With moths, toads, newts, and snakes red-gulleted,
+    And livid, loathsome worms, writhing in slime
+    Forth from skull-holes and scalps and tumbled bones.
+    A burning forest shut the roadside in
+    On either hand, and 'mid its crackling boughs
+    Perched ghastly birds, or flapped amongst the flames,--
+    Vultures and kites and crows,--with brazen plumes
+    And beaks of iron; and these grisly fowl
+    Screamed to the shrieks of Prets, lean, famished ghosts,
+    Featureless, eyeless, having pin-point mouths,
+    Hungering, but hard to fill,--all swooping down
+    To gorge upon the meat of wicked ones;
+    Whereof the limbs disparted, trunks and heads,
+    Offal and marrow, littered all the way.
+    By such a path the king passed, sore afeared
+    If he had known of fear, for the air stank
+    With carrion stench, sickly to breathe; and lo!
+    Presently 'thwart the pathway foamed a flood
+    Of boiling waves, rolling down corpses. This
+    They crossed, and then the Asipatra wood
+    Spread black in sight, whereof the undergrowth
+    Was sword-blades, spitting, every blade, some wretch;
+    All around poison trees; and next to this,
+    Strewn deep with fiery sands, an awful waste,
+    Wherethrough the wicked toiled with blistering feet,
+    'Midst rocks of brass, red hot, which scorched, and pools
+    Of bubbling pitch that gulfed them. Last the gorge
+    Of Kutash�la Mali,--frightful gate
+    Of utmost Hell, with utmost horrors filled.
+    Deadly and nameless were the plagues seen there;
+    Which when the monarch reached, nigh overborne
+    By terrors and the reek of tortured flesh,
+    Unto the angel spake he: 'Whither goes
+    This hateful road, and where be they I seek,
+    Yet find not?' Answer made the heavenly One:
+    'Hither, great King, it was commanded me
+    To bring thy steps. If thou be'st overborne,
+    It is commanded that I lead thee back
+    To where the Gods wait. Wilt thou turn and mount?'
+
+    "Then (O thou Son of Bh�rat!) Yudhishthir
+    Turned heavenward his face, so was he moved
+    With horror and the hanging stench, and spent
+    By toil of that black travel. But his feet
+    Scarce one stride measured, when about the place
+    Pitiful accents rang: 'Alas, sweet King!--
+    Ah, saintly Lord!--Ah, Thou that hast attained
+    Place with the Blessed, Pandu's offspring!--pause
+    A little while, for love of us who cry!
+    Nought can harm _thee_ in all this baneful place;
+    But at thy coming there 'gan blow a breeze
+    Balmy and soothing, bringing us relief.
+    O Pritha's son, mightiest of men! we breathe
+    Glad breath again to see thee; we have peace
+    One moment in our agonies. Stay here
+    One moment more, Bh�rata's child! Go not,
+    Thou Victor of the Kurus! Being here,
+    Hell softens and our bitter pains relax.'
+
+    "These pleadings, wailing all around the place,
+    Heard the King Yudhishthira,--words of woe
+    Humble and eager; and compassion seized
+    His lordly mind. 'Poor souls unknown!' he sighed,
+    And hellwards turned anew; for what those were.
+    Whence such beseeching voices, and of whom,
+    That son of Pandu wist not,--only wist
+    That all the noxious murk was filled with forms,
+    Shadowy, in anguish, crying grace of him.
+    Wherefore he called aloud,'Who speaks with me?
+    What do ye here, and what things suffer ye?'
+    Then from the black depth piteously there came
+    Answers of whispered suffering: 'Karna I,
+    O King!' and yet another,'O my Liege,
+    Thy Bh�ma speaks!' and then a voice again,
+    'I am Arjuna, Brother!' and again,
+    'Nakla is here and Sahadev!' and last
+    A moan of music from the darkness sighed,
+    'Draupad� cries to thee!' Thereat broke forth
+    The monarch's spirit,--knowing so the sound
+    Of each familiar voice,--'What doom is this?
+    What have my well-beloved wrought to earn
+    Death with the damned, or life loathlier than death
+    In Narak's midst? Hath Karna erred so deep,
+    Bh�ma, Arjuna, or the glorious twins,
+    Or she, the slender-waisted, sweetest, best,
+    My princess,--that Duryodhana should sit
+    Peaceful in Paradise with all his crew,
+    Throned by Mahendra and the shining gods?
+    How should these fail of bliss, and he attain?
+    What were their sins to his, their splendid faults?
+    For if they slipped, it was in virtue's way
+    Serving good laws, performing holy rites,
+    Boundless in gifts and faithful to the death.
+    These be their well-known voices! Are ye here,
+    Souls I loved best? Dream I, belike, asleep,
+    Or rave I, maddened with accursed sights
+    And death-reeks of this hellish air?'
+
+                                     "Thereat
+    For pity and for pain the king waxed wroth.
+    That soul fear could not shake, nor trials tire,
+    Burned terrible with tenderness, the while
+    His eyes searched all the gloom, his planted feet
+    Stood fast in the mid horrors. Well-nigh, then,
+    He cursed the gods; well-nigh that steadfast mind
+    Broke from its faith in virtue. But he stayed
+    Th' indignant passion, softly speaking this
+    Unto the angel: 'Go to those thou serv'st;
+    Tell them I come not thither. Say I stand
+    Here in the throat of hell, and here will bide--
+    Nay, if I perish--while my well-belov'd
+    Win ease and peace by any pains of mine.'
+
+    "Whereupon, nought replied the shining One,
+    But straight repaired unto the upper light,
+    Where S�kra sate above the gods, and spake
+    Before the gods the message of the king."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Afterward what befell?" the prince inquired.
+
+    "Afterward, Princely One!" replied the Sage,
+    "At hearing and at knowing that high deed
+    (Great Yudhishthira braving hell for love),
+    The Presences of Paradise uprose,
+    Each Splendour in his place,--god S�kra chief;
+    Together rose they, and together stepped
+    Down from their thrones, treading the nether road
+    Where Yudhishthira tarried. S�kra led
+    The shining van, and Dharma, Lord of laws,
+    Paced glorious next. O Son of Bh�rata,
+    While that celestial company came down--
+    Pure as the white stars sweeping through the sky,
+    And brighter than their brilliance--look! Hell's shades
+    Melted before them; warm gleams drowned the gloom;
+    Soft, lovely scenes rolled over the ill sights;
+    Peace calmed the cries of torment; in its bed
+    The boiling river shrank, quiet and clear;
+    The Asipatra Vana--awful wood--
+    Blossomed with colours; all those cruel blades,
+    And dreadful rocks, and piteous scattered wreck
+    Of writhing bodies, where the king had passed,
+    Vanished as dreams fade. Cool and fragrant went
+    A wind before their faces, as these Gods
+    Drew radiant to the presence of the king,--
+    Maruts; and Vasus eight, who shine and serve
+    Round Indra; Rudras; Aswins; and those Six
+    Immortal Lords of light beyond our light,
+    Th' Adityas; Saddhyas; Siddhas,--those were there,
+    With angels, saints, and habitants of heaven,
+    Smiling resplendent round the steadfast prince.
+
+    "Then spake the God of gods these gracious words
+    To Yudhishthira, standing in that place:--
+    "'King Yudhishthira! O thou long-armed Lord,
+    This is enough! All heaven is glad of thee.
+    It is enough! Come, thou most blessed one.
+    Unto thy peace, well-gained. Lay now aside
+    Thy loving wrath, and hear the speech of Heaven.
+    It is appointed that all kings see hell.
+    The reckonings for the life of men are twain:
+    Of each man's righteous deeds a tally true,
+    A tally true of each man's evil deeds.
+    Who hath wrought little right, to him is paid
+    A little bliss in Swarga, then the woe
+    Which purges; who much right hath wrought, from him
+    The little ill by lighter pains is cleansed,
+    And then the joys. Sweet is peace after pain,
+    And bitter pain which follows peace; yet they,
+    Who sorely sin, taste of the heaven they miss,
+    And they that suffer quit their debt at last.
+    Lo! We have loved thee, laying hard on thee
+    Grievous assaults of soul, and this black road.
+    Bethink thee: by a semblance once, dear Son!
+    Drona thou didst beguile; and once, dear Son!
+    Semblance of hell hath so thy sin assoiled,
+    "Which passeth with these shadows. Even thus
+    Thy Bh�ma came a little space t' account,
+    Draupad�, Krishna,--all whom thou didst love,
+    Never again to lose! Come, First of Men!
+    These be delivered and their quittance made.
+    Also the princes, son of Bh�rata!
+    Who fell beside thee fighting, have attained.
+    Come thou to see! Karna, whom thou didst mourn,--
+    That mightiest archer, master in all wars,--
+    He hath attained, shining as doth the sun;
+    Come thou and see! Grieve no more, King of Men!
+    Whose love helped them and thee, and hath its meed.
+    Rajas and maharajahs, warriors, aids,--
+    All thine are thine for ever. Krishna waits
+    To greet thee coming, 'companied by gods,
+    Seated in heaven, from toils and conflicts saved.
+    Son! there is golden fruit of noble deeds,
+    Of prayer, alms, sacrifice. The most just Gods
+    Keep thee thy place above the highest saints,
+    Where thou shalt sit, divine, compassed about
+    With royal souls in bliss, as Hari sits;
+    Seeing M�ndh�ta crowned, and Bhagirath,
+    Daushyanti, Bh�rata, with all thy line.
+    Now therefore wash thee in this holy stream,
+    Gunga's pure fount, whereof the bright waves bless
+    All the Three Worlds. It will so change thy flesh
+    To likeness of th' immortal, thou shalt leave
+    Passions and aches and tears behind thee there.'
+
+    "And when the awful S�kra thus had said,
+    Lo! Dharma spake,--th' embodied Lord of Right:
+
+    "'Bho! bho! I am well pleased! Hail to thee, Chief!
+    Worthy, and wise, and firm. Thy faith is full,
+    Thy virtue, and thy patience, and thy truth,
+    And thy self-mastery. Thrice I put thee, King!
+    Unto the trial. In the Dwaita wood,
+    The day of sacrifice,--then thou stood'st fast;
+    Next, on thy brethren's death and Draupad�'s,
+    When, as a dog, I followed thee, and found
+    Thy spirit constant to the meanest friend.
+    Here was the third and sorest touchstone, Son!
+    That thou shouldst hear thy brothers cry in hell,
+    And yet abide to help them. Pritha's child,
+    We love thee! Thou art fortunate and pure,
+    Past trials now. Thou art approved, and they
+    Thou lov'st have tasted hell only a space,
+    Not meriting to suffer more than when
+    An evil dream doth come, and Indra's beam
+    Ends it with radiance--as this vision ends.
+    It is appointed that all flesh see death,
+    And therefore thou hast borne the passing pangs,
+    Briefest for thee, and brief for those of thine,--
+    Bh�ma the faithful, and the valiant twins
+    Nakla and Sahadev, and those great hearts
+    Karna, Arjuna, with thy princess dear,
+    Draupad�. Come, thou best-belov�d Son,
+    Blessed of all thy line! Bathe in this stream,--
+    It is great Gunga, flowing through Three Worlds.'
+
+    "Thus high-accosted, the rejoicing king
+    (Thy ancestor, O Liege!) proceeded straight
+    Unto that river's brink, which floweth pure
+    Through the Three Worlds, mighty, and sweet, and praised.
+    There, being bathed, the body of the king
+    Put off its mortal, coming up arrayed
+    In grace celestial, washed from soils of sin,
+    From passion, pain, and change. So, hand in hand
+    With brother-gods, glorious went Yudhishthir,
+    Lauded by softest minstrelsy, and songs
+    Of unknown music, where those heroes stood--
+    The princes of the Pandavas, his kin--
+    And lotus-eyed and lovliest Draupad�,
+    Waiting to greet him, gladdening and glad."
+
+
+
+
+_FROM THE "SAUPTIKA PARVA" OF THE MAH�BH�RATA,_
+
+OR
+
+_"NIGHT OF SLAUGHTER."_
+
+
+    _To Narayen, Best of Lords, be glory given,
+    To great Saraswati, the Queen in Heaven;
+    Unto Vy�sa, too, be paid his meed,
+    So shall this story worthily proceed._
+
+    "Those vanquished warriors then," Sanjaya said,
+    "Fled southwards; and, near sunset, past the tents,
+    Unyoked; abiding close in fear and rage.
+    There was a wood beyond the camp,--untrod,
+    Quiet,--and in its leafy harbour lay
+    The Princes, some among them bleeding still
+    From spear and arrow-gashes; all sore-spent,
+    Fetching faint breath, and fighting o'er again
+    In thought that battle. But there came the noise
+    Of Pandavas pursuing,--fierce and loud
+    Outcries of victory--whereat those chiefs
+    Sullenly rose, and yoked their steeds again,
+    Driving due east; and eastward still they drave
+    Under the night, till drouth and desperate toil
+    Stayed horse and man; then took they lair again,
+    The panting horses, and the Warriors, wroth
+    With chilled wounds, and the death-stroke of their King.
+
+    "Now were they come, my Prince," Sanjaya said,
+    "Unto a jungle thick with stems, whereon
+    The tangled creepers coiled; here entered they--
+    Watering their horses at a stream--and pushed
+    Deep in the thicket. Many a beast and bird
+    Sprang startled at their feet; the long grass stirred
+    With serpents creeping off; the woodland flowers
+    Shook where the pea-fowl hid, and, where frogs plunged,
+    The swamp rocked all its reeds and lotus-buds.
+    A banian-tree, with countless dropping boughs
+    Earth-rooted, spied they, and beneath its aisles
+    A pool; hereby they stayed, tethering their steeds,
+    And dipping water, made the evening prayer.
+
+    "But when the 'Day-maker' sank in the west
+    And Night descended--gentle, soothing Night,
+    Who comforts all, with silver splendour decked
+    Of stars and constellations, and soft folds
+    Of velvet darkness drawn--then those wild things
+    Which roam in darkness woke, wandering afoot
+    Under the gloom. Horrid the forest grew
+    With roar, and yelp, and yell, around that place
+    Where Kripa, Kritavarman, and the son
+    Of Drona lay, beneath the banian-tree;
+    Full many a piteous passage instancing
+    In their lost battle-day of dreadful blood;
+    Till sleep fell heavy on the wearied lids
+    Of Bhoja's child and Kripa. Then these Lords--
+    To princely life and silken couches used--
+    Sought on the bare earth slumber, spent and sad,
+    As houseless outcasts lodge.
+
+                              "But, Oh, my King!
+    There came no sleep to Drona's angry son,
+    Great Aswatth�man. As a snake lies coiled
+    And hisses, breathing, so his panting breath
+    Hissed rage and hatred round him, while he lay,
+    Chin uppermost, arm-pillowed, with fierce eyes
+    Roving the wood, and seeing sightlessly.
+    Thus chanced it that his wandering glances turned
+    Into the fig-tree's shadows, where there perched
+    A thousand crows, thick-roosting, on its limbs;
+    Some nested, some on branchlets, deep asleep,
+    Heads under wings--all fearless; nor, O Prince!
+    Had Aswatth�man more than marked the birds,
+    When, lo! there fell out of the velvet night,
+    Silent and terrible, an eagle-owl,
+    With wide, soft, deadly, dusky wings, and eyes
+    Flame-coloured, and long claws, and dreadful beak;
+    Like a winged sprite, or great Garood himself;
+    Offspring of Bh�rata! it lighted there
+    Upon the banian's bough; hooted, but low,
+    The fury smothering in its throat;--then fell
+    With murderous beak and claws upon those crows,
+    Rending the wings from this, the legs from that,
+    From some the heads, of some ripping the crops;
+    Till, tens and scores, the fowl rained down to earth
+    Bloody and plucked, and all the ground waxed black
+    With piled crow-carcases; whilst the great owl
+    Hooted for joy of vengeance, and again
+    Spread the wide, deadly, dusky wings.
+
+                                        "Up sprang
+    The son of Drona: 'Lo! this owl,' quoth he,
+    'Teacheth me wisdom; lo! one slayeth so
+    Insolent foes asleep. The Pandu Lords
+    Are all too strong in arms by day to kill;
+    They triumph, being many. Yet I swore
+    Before the King, my Father, I would "kill"
+    And "kill"--even as a foolish fly should swear
+    To quench a flame. It scorched, and I shall die
+    If I dare open battle; but by art
+    Men vanquish fortune and the mightiest odds.
+    If there be two ways to a wise man's wish,
+    Yet only one way sure, he taketh this;
+    And if it be an evil way, condemned
+    For Brahmans, yet the Kshattriya may do
+    What vengeance bids against his foes. Our foes,
+    The Pandavas, are furious, treacherous, base,
+    Halting at nothing; and how say the wise
+    In holy Shastras?--"Wounded, wearied, fed,
+    Or fasting; sleeping, waking, setting forth,
+    Or new arriving; slay thine enemies;"
+    And so again, "At midnight when they sleep,
+    Dawn when they watch not; noon if leaders fall;
+    Eve, should they scatter; all the times and hours
+    Are times and hours fitted for killing foes."'
+
+    "So did the son of Drona steel his soul
+    To break upon the sleeping Pandu chiefs
+    And slay them in the darkness. Being set
+    On this unlordly deed, and clear in scheme,
+    He from their slumbers roused the warriors twain,
+    Kripa and Kritavarman."
+
+
+
+
+_THE MORNING PRAYER._
+
+
+    Our Lord the Prophet (peace to him!) doth write--
+    S�rah the Seventeenth, intituled "Night"--
+    "Pray at the noon; pray at the sinking sun;
+    In night-time pray; but most when night is done;
+    For daybreak's prayer is surely borne on high
+    By angels, changing guard within the sky;"
+    And in another place:--"Dawn's prayer is more
+    Than the wide world, with all its treasured store."
+
+    Therefore the Faithful, when the growing light
+    Gives to discern a black hair from a white,
+    Haste to the mosque, and, bending Mecca-way,
+    Recite _Al-F�tihah_ while 'tis scarce yet day:
+    "_Praise be to Allah--Lord of all that live:
+    Merciful King and Judge! To Thee we give
+    Worship and honour! Succour us, and guide
+    Where those have walked who rest Thy throne beside:
+    The way of Peace; the way of truthful speech;
+    The way of Righteousness. So we beseech._"
+    He that saith this, before the East is red,
+    A hundred prayers of Azan hath he said.
+
+    Hear now a story of it--told, I ween,
+    For your souls' comfort by Jelal-ud-din,
+    In the great pages of the Mesnev�;
+    For therein, plain and certain, shall ye see
+    How precious is the prayer at break of day
+    In Allah's ears, and in his sight alway
+    How sweet are reverence and gentleness
+    Shown to his creatures. �li (whom I bless!)
+    The son of Abu Talib--he surnamed
+    "Lion of God," in many battles famed,
+    The cousin of our Lord the Prophet (grace
+    Be his!)--uprose betimes one morn, to pace--
+    As he was wont--unto the mosque, wherein
+    Our Lord (bliss live with him!) watched to begin
+    _Al-F�tihah_. Darkling was the sky, and strait
+    The lane between the city and mosque-gate,
+    By rough stones broken and deep pools of rain;
+    And there through toilfully, with steps of pain,
+    Leaning upon his staff an old Jew went
+    To synagogue, on pious errand bent:
+    For those be "People of the Book,"--and some
+    Are chosen of Allah's will, who have not come
+    Unto full light of wisdom. Therefore he
+    �li--the Caliph of proud days to be--
+    Knowing this good old man, and why he stirred
+    Thus early, e'er the morning mills were heard,
+    Out of his nobleness and grace of soul
+    Would not thrust past, though the Jew blocked the whole
+    Breadth of the lane, slow-hobbling. So they went,
+    That ancient first; and in soft discontent,
+    After him �li--noting how the sun
+    Flared nigh, and fearing prayer might be begun;
+    Yet no command upraising, no harsh cry
+    To stand aside;--because the dignity
+    Of silver hairs is much, and morning praise
+    Was precious to the Jew, too. Thus their ways
+    Wended the pair; Great �li, sad and slow,
+    Following the greybeard, while the East, a-glow,
+    Blazed with bright spears of gold athwart the blue,
+    And the Muezzin's call came "_Illahu!
+    Allah-il-Allah!_"
+
+                          In the mosque, our Lord
+    (On whom be peace!) stood by the Mehrab-board
+    In act to bow, and _F�tihah_ forth to say.
+    But as his lips moved, some strong hand did lay
+    Over his mouth a palm invisible,
+    So that no voice on the Assembly fell.
+    "_Ya! Rabbi 'lalam�na_" thrice he tried
+    To read, and thrice the sound of reading died,
+    Stayed by this unseen touch. Thereat amazed
+    Our Lord Muhammed turned, arose, and gazed;
+    And saw--alone of those within the shrine--
+    A splendid Presence, with large eyes divine
+    Beaming, and golden pinions folded down,
+    Their speed still tokened by the fluttered gown.
+    GABRIEL he knew, the spirit who doth stand
+    Chief of the Sons of Heav'n, at God's right hand:
+    "Gabriel! why stayest thou me?" the Prophet said,
+    "Since at this hour the _F�tihah_  should be read."
+
+    But the bright Presence, smiling, pointed where
+    �li towards the outer gate drew near,
+    Upon the threshold shaking off his shoes
+    And giving "alms of entry," as men use.
+    "Yea!" spake th' Archangel, "sacred is the sound
+    Of morning-praise, and worth the world's wide round,
+    Though earth were pearl and silver; therefore I
+    Stayed thee, Muhammed, in the act to cry,
+    Lest �li, tarrying in the lane, should miss,
+    For his good deed, its blessing and its bliss."
+
+    Thereat th' Archangel vanished:--and our Lord
+    Read _F�tihah_ forth beneath the Mehrab-board.
+
+
+
+
+_PROVERBIAL WISDOM_
+
+FROM THE
+
+_SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA_.
+
+
+DEDICATION
+
+(_TO FIRST EDITION_)
+
+
+    _To you, dear Wife--to whom beside so well?--
+      True Counsellor and tried, at every shift,
+    I bring my "Book of Counsels:" let it tell
+      Largeness of love by littleness of gift;_
+
+    _And take this growth of foreign skies from me,
+      (A scholar's thanks for gentle help in toil,)
+    Whose leaf, "though dark," like Milton's Hoemony,
+      "Bears a bright golden flower, if not in this soil."_
+
+_April 9, 1861._
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+_TO THE "BOOK OF GOOD COUNSELS."_
+
+
+The _Hitopadesa_ is a work of high antiquity and extended popularity.
+The prose is doubtless as old as our own era; but the intercalated
+verses and proverbs compose a selection from writings of an age
+extremely remote. The _Mah�bh�rata_ and the textual _Veds_ are of
+those quoted; to the first of which Professor M. Williams (in his
+admirable edition of the _Nala_, 1860) assigns the modest date of 350
+B.C., while he claims for the _Rig-Veda_ an antiquity as high as 1300
+B.C. The _Hitopadesa_ may thus be fairly styled "The Father of all
+Fables;" for from its numerous translations have probably come Esop
+and Pilpay, and in latter days _Reineke Fuchs_. Originally compiled in
+Sanskrit, it was rendered, by order of Nushirv�n, in the sixth century
+A.D., into Persic. From the Persic it passed, A.D. 850, into the
+Arabic, and thence into Hebrew and Greek. In its own land it obtained
+as wide a circulation. The Emperor Akbar, impressed with the wisdom of
+its maxims and the ingenuity of its apologues, commended the work of
+translating it to his own Vizier, Abdul Fazel. That Minister
+accordingly put the book into a familiar style, and published it with
+explanations, under the title of the _Criterion of Wisdom_. The
+Emperor had also suggested the abridgment of the long series of
+shlokes which here and there interrupt the narrative, and the Vizier
+found this advice sound, and followed it, like the present Translator.
+To this day, in India, the _Hitopadesa_, under its own or other names
+(as the _Anv�ri Suhaili_), retains the delighted attention of young
+and old, and has some representative in all the Indian vernaculars. A
+selection from the metrical Sanskrit proverbs and maxims is here
+given.
+
+
+_PROVERBIAL WISDOM_
+
+FROM THE
+
+_SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA._
+
+
+        _This Book of Counsel read, and you shall see,
+         Fair speech and Sanskrit lore, and Policy._
+
+    "Wise men, holding wisdom highest, scorn delights, more false than
+        fair;
+    Daily live as if Death's fingers twined already in thy hair!
+
+    "Truly, richer than all riches, better than the best of gain,
+    Wisdom is; unbought, secure--once won, none loseth her again.
+
+    "Bringing dark things into daylight, solving doubts that vex the mind,
+    Like an open eye is Wisdom--he that hath her not is blind."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Childless art thou? dead thy children? leaving thee to want and doole?
+    Less thy misery than his is, who lives father to a fool."
+
+    "One wise son makes glad his father, forty fools avail him not:
+    One moon silvers all that darkness which the silly stars did dot."
+
+    "Ease and health, obeisant children, wisdom, and a fair-voiced wife--
+    Thus, great King! are counted up the five felicities of life."
+
+    "For the son the sire is honoured; though the bow-cane bendeth true,
+    Let the strained string crack in using, and what service shall it do?"
+
+    "That which will not be, will not be--and what is to be, will be:
+    Why not drink this easy physic, antidote of misery?"
+
+    "Nay! but faint not, idly sighing, 'Destiny is mightiest,'
+    Sesamum holds oil in plenty, but it yieldeth none unpressed."
+
+    "Ah! it is the Coward's babble, 'Fortune taketh, Fortune gave;'
+    Fortune! rate her like a master, and she serves thee like a slave."
+
+    "Two-fold is the life we live in--Fate and Will together run:
+    Two wheels bear life's chariot onward--Will it move on only one?"
+
+    "Look! the clay dries into iron, but the potter moulds the clay:
+    Destiny to-day is master--Man was master yesterday."
+
+    "Worthy ends come not by wishing. Wouldst thou? Up, and win it, then!
+    While the hungry lion slumbers, not a deer comes to his den."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Silly glass, in splendid settings, something of the gold may gain;
+    And in company of wise ones, fools to wisdom may attain."
+
+    "Labours spent on the unworthy, of reward the labourer balk;
+    Like the parrot, teach the heron twenty words, he will not talk."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Ah! a thousand thoughts of sorrow, and a hundred things of dread,
+    By the fools unheeded, enter day by day the wise man's head."
+
+    "Of the day's impending dangers, Sickness, Death, and Misery,
+    One will be; the wise man, waking, ponders which that one will be."
+
+    "Good things come not out of bad things; wisely leave a longed-for ill.
+    Nectar being mixed with poison serves no purpose but to kill."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Give to poor men, son of K�nti--on the wealthy waste not wealth;
+    Good are simples for the sick man, good for nought to him in health."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Be his Scripture-learning wondrous, yet the cheat will be a cheat;
+    Be her pasture ne'er so bitter, yet the cow's milk will taste sweet."
+
+    "Trust not water, trust not weapons; trust not clawed nor horned
+        things;
+    Neither give thy soul to women, nor thy life to Sons of Kings."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Look! the Moon, the silver roamer, from whose splendour darkness
+        flies,
+    With his starry cohorts marching, like a crowned king, through the
+        skies:
+    All his grandeur, all his glory, vanish in the Dragon's jaw;
+    What is written on the forehead, that will be, and nothing more."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+            "Counsel in danger; of it
+               Unwarned, be nothing begun;
+             But nobody asks a Prophet,
+               Shall the risk of a dinner be run?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Avarice begetteth anger; blind desires from her begin;
+    A right fruitful mother is she of a countless spawn of sin."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Be second and not first!--the share's the same
+    If all go well. If not, the Head's to blame."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Passion will be Slave or Mistress: follow her, she brings to woe;
+    Lead her, 'tis the way to Fortune. Choose the path that thou wilt go."
+
+    "When the time of trouble cometh, friends may ofttimes irk us most:
+    For the calf at milking-hour the mother's leg is tying-post."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "In good-fortune not elated, in ill-fortune not dismayed,
+    Ever eloquent in council, never in the fight affrayed,
+    Proudly emulous of honour, steadfastly on wisdom set;
+    These six virtues in the nature of a noble soul are met.
+    Whoso hath them, gem and glory of the three wide worlds is he;
+    Happy mother she that bore him, she who nursed him on her knee."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Small things wax exceeding mighty, being cunningly combined;
+    Furious elephants are fastened with a rope of grass-blades twined."
+
+    "Let the household hold together, though the house be ne'er so small;
+    Strip the rice-husk from the rice-grain, and it groweth not at all."
+
+          "Sickness, anguish, bonds, and woe
+          Spring from wrongs wrought long ago."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Keep wealth for want, but spend it for thy wife,
+    And wife, and wealth, and all, to guard thy life."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Death, that must come, comes nobly when we give
+    Our wealth, and life, and all, to make men live."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Floating on his fearless pinions, lost amid the noonday skies,
+    Even thence the Eagle's vision kens the carcass where it lies;
+    But the hour that comes to all things comes unto the Lord of Air,
+    And he rushes, madly blinded, to die helpless in the snare."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Bar thy door not to the stranger, be he friend or be he foe,
+    For the tree will shade the woodman while his axe doth lay it low.
+
+    Greeting fair, and room to rest in; fire, and water from the well--
+    Simple gifts--are given freely in the house where good men dwell;--
+
+    Young, or bent with many winters; rich, or poor whate'er thy guest,
+    Honour him for thine own honour--better is he than the best.
+
+    "Pity them that crave thy pity: who art thou to stint thy hoard,
+    When the holy moon shines equal on the leper and the lord?"
+
+    When thy gate is roughly fastened, and the asker turns away,
+    Thence he bears thy good deeds with him, and his sins on thee doth lay.
+
+    In the house the husband ruleth; men the Brahman "master" call;
+    Agni is the Twice-born's Master--but the guest is lord of all.
+
+          "He who does and thinks no wrong--
+          He who suffers, being strong--
+          He whose harmlessness men know--
+          Unto Swarga such doth go."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "In the land where no wise men are, men of little wit are lords;
+    And the castor-oil's a tree, where no tree else its shade affords."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Foe is friend, and friend is foe,
+          As our actions make them so."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "That friend only is the true friend who abides when trouble comes;
+    That man only is the brave man who can bear the battle-drums;
+    Words are wind; deed proveth promise: he who helps at need is kin;
+    And the leal wife is loving though the husband lose or win."
+
+    "Friend and kinsman--more their meaning than the idle-hearted mind;
+    Many a friend can prove unfriendly, many a kinsman less than kind:
+    He who shares his comrade's portion, be he beggar, be he lord,
+    Comes as truly, comes as duly, to the battle as the board--
+    Stands before the king to succour, follows to the pile to sigh--
+    He is friend, and he is kinsman; less would make the name a lie."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Stars gleam, lamps flicker, friends foretell of fate;
+    The fated sees, knows, hears them--all too late."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Absent, flatterers' tongues are daggers--present, softer than the
+        silk;
+    Shun them! 'tis a draught of poison hidden under harmless milk;
+    Shun them when they promise little! Shun them when they promise much!
+    For enkindled, charcoal burneth--cold, it doth defile the touch."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "In years, or moons, or half-moons three,
+          Or in three days--suddenly,
+          Knaves are shent--true men go free."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Anger comes to noble natures, but leaves there no strife or storm:
+    Plunge a lighted torch beneath it, and the ocean grows not warm."
+
+    "Noble hearts are golden vases--close the bond true metals make;
+    Easily the smith may weld them, harder far it is to break.
+    Evil hearts are earthen vessels--at a touch they crack a-twain,
+    And what craftsman's ready cunning can unite the shards again?"
+
+    "Good men's friendships may be broken, yet abide they friends at heart;
+    Snap the stem of Luxmee's lotus, but its fibres will not part."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "One foot goes, and one foot stands,
+          When the wise man leaves his lands."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Over-love of home were weakness; wheresoe'er the hero come,
+    Stalwart arm and steadfast spirit find or make for him a home.
+    Little recks the awless lion where his hunting jungles lie--
+    When he enters them be certain that a royal prey shall die."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Very feeble folk are poor folk; money lost takes wit away:
+    All their doings fail like runnels, wasting through the summer day."
+
+    "Wealth is friends, home, father, brother--title to respect and fame;
+    Yea, and wealth is held for wisdom--that it should be so is shame."
+
+    "Home is empty to the childless; hearts to those who friends deplore:
+    Earth unto the idle-minded; and the three worlds to the poor."
+
+    "Say the sages, nine things name not: Age, domestic joys and woes,
+    Counsel, sickness, shame, alms, penance; neither Poverty disclose.
+    Better for the proud of spirit, death, than life with losses told;
+    Fire consents to be extinguished, but submits riot to be cold."
+
+          "As Age doth banish beauty,
+            As moonlight dies in gloom,
+          As Slavery's menial duty
+            Is Honour's certain tomb;
+
+          As Hari's name and Hara's
+            Spoken, charm sin away,
+          So Poverty can surely
+            A hundred virtues slay."
+
+    "Half-known knowledge, present pleasure purchased with a future woe,
+    And to taste the salt of service--greater griefs no man can know."
+
+    "All existence is not equal, and all living is not life;
+    Sick men live; and he who, banished, pines for children, home, and
+        wife;
+    And the craven-hearted eater of another's leavings lives,
+    And the wretched captive, waiting for the word of doom, survives;
+    But they bear an anguished body, and they draw a deadly breath;
+    And life cometh to them only on the happy day of death."
+
+    "Golden gift, serene Contentment! have thou that, and all is had;
+    Thrust thy slipper on, and think thee that the earth is leather-clad."
+
+    "All is known, digested, tested; nothing new is left to learn
+    When the soul, serene, reliant, Hope's delusive dreams can spurn."
+
+    "Hast thou never watched, awaiting till the great man's door unbarred?
+    Didst thou never linger parting, saying many a sad last word?
+    Spak'st thou never word of folly, one light thing thou would'st recall?
+    Rare and noble hath thy life been! fair thy fortune did befall!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "True Religion!--'tis not blindly prating what the gurus prate,
+    But to love, as God hath loved them, all things, be they small or
+        great;
+    And true bliss is when a sane mind doth a healthy body fill;
+    And true knowledge is the knowing what is good and what is ill."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Poisonous though the tree of life be, two fair blossoms grow thereon:
+    One, the company of good men; and sweet songs of Poets, one."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Give, and it shall swell thy getting; give, and thou shalt safer keep:
+    Pierce the tank-wall; or it yieldeth, when the water waxeth deep."
+
+    "When the miser hides his treasure in the earth, he doeth well;
+    For he opens up a passage that his soul may sink to hell."
+
+    "He whose coins are kept for counting, not to barter nor to give,
+    Breathe he like a blacksmith's bellows, yet in truth he doth not live."
+
+    "Gifts, bestowed with words of kindness, making giving doubly dear:
+    Wisdom, deep, complete, benignant, of all arrogancy clear;
+    Valour, never yet forgetful of sweet Mercy's pleading prayer;
+    Wealth, and scorn of wealth to spend it--oh! but these be virtues
+        rare!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Sentences of studied wisdom, nought avail they unapplied;
+    Though the blind man hold a lantern, yet his footsteps stray aside."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Would'st thou, know whose happy dwelling Fortune entereth unknown?
+    His, who careless of her favour, standeth fearless in his own;
+    His, who for the vague to-morrow barters not the sure to-day--
+    Master of himself, and sternly steadfast to the rightful way:
+    Very mindful of past service, valiant, faithful, true of heart--
+    Unto such comes Lakshmi smiling--comes, and will not lightly part."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Be not haughty, being wealthy; droop not, having lost thine all;
+    Fate doth play with mortal fortunes as a girl doth toss her ball."
+
+    "Worldly friendships, fair but fleeting; shadows of the clouds at noon;
+    Women, youth, new corn, and riches; these be pleasures passing soon."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "For thy bread be not o'er thoughtful--Heav'n for all hath taken
+        thought:
+    When the babe is born, the sweet milk to the mother's breast is
+        brought.
+
+    "He who gave the swan her silver, and the hawk her plumes of pride,
+    And his purples to the peacock--He will verily provide."
+
+    "Though for good ends, waste not on wealth a minute;
+    Mud may be wiped, but wise men plunge not in it."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Brunettes, and the Banyan's shadow,
+            Well-springs, and a brick-built wall,
+          Are all alike cool in the summer,
+            And warm in the winter--all."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Ah! the gleaming, glancing arrows of a lovely woman's eye!
+    Feathered with her jetty lashes, perilous they pass thee by:
+    Loosed at venture from the black bows of her arching brow, they part,
+    All too penetrant and deadly for an undefended heart."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Beautiful the Koil seemeth for the sweetness of his song,
+    Beautiful the world esteemeth pious souls for patience strong;
+    Homely features lack not favour when true wisdom they reveal,
+    And a wife is fair and honoured while her heart is firm and leal."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Friend! gracious word!--the heart to tell is ill able
+    Whence came to men this jewel of a syllable."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Whoso for greater quits small gain,
+          Shall have his labour for his pain;
+          The things unwon unwon remain,
+          And what was won is lost again."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Looking down on lives below them, men of little store are great;
+    Looking up to higher fortunes, hard to each man seems his fate."
+
+    "As a bride, unwisely wedded, shuns the cold caress of eld,
+    So, from coward souls and slothful, Lakshmi's favours turn repelled."
+
+    "Ease, ill-health, home-keeping, sleeping, woman-service, and content--
+    In the path that leads to greatness these be six obstructions sent."
+
+    "Seeing how the soorma wasteth, seeing how the ant-hill grows,
+    Little adding unto little--live, give, learn, as life-time, goes."
+
+    "Drops of water falling, falling, falling, brim the chatty o'er;
+    Wisdom comes in little lessons--little gains make largest store."
+
+          "Men their cunning schemes may spin--
+          God knows who shall lose or  win."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Shoot a hundred shafts, the quarry lives and flies--not due to death;
+    When his hour is come, a grass-blade hath a point to stop his breath."
+
+    "Robes were none, nor oil of unction, when the King of Beasts was
+        crowned:
+    'Twas his own fierce roar proclaimed him, rolling all the kingdom
+        round."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "What but for their vassals,
+            Elephant and man--
+          Swing of golden tassels,
+            Wave of silken fan--
+          But for regal manner
+            That the 'Chattra' brings,
+          Horse, and foot, and banner--
+            What would come of kings?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "At the work-time, asking wages--is it like a faithful herd?
+    When the work's done, grudging wages--is _that_ acting like a lord?"
+
+    "Serve the Sun with sweat of body; starve thy maw to feed the flame;
+    Stead thy lord with all thy service; to thy death go, quit of blame."
+
+    "Many prayers for him are uttered whereon many a life relies;
+    'Tis but one poor fool the fewer when the greedy jack-daw dies."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Give thy Dog the merest mouthful, and he crouches at thy feet,
+    Wags his tail, and fawns, and grovels, in his eagerness to eat;
+    Bid the Elephant be feeding, and the best of fodder bring;
+    Gravely--after much entreaty--condescends that mighty king."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "By their own deeds men go downward, by them men mount upward all,
+    Like the diggers of a well, and like the builders of a wall."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Rushes down the hill the crag, which upward 'twas so hard to roll:
+    So to virtue slowly rises--so to vice quick sinks the soul."
+
+          "Who speaks unasked, or comes unbid,
+          Or counts on service--will be chid."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Wise, modest, constant, ever close at hand,
+          Not weighing but obeying all command,
+          Such servant by a Monarch's throne may stand."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Pitiful, who fearing failure, therefore no beginning makes,
+    Why forswear a daily dinner for the chance of stomach-aches?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Nearest to the King is dearest, be thy merit low or high;
+    Women, creeping plants, and princes, twine round that which groweth
+        nigh."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Pearls are dull in leaden settings, but the setter is to blame;
+    Glass will glitter like the ruby, dulled with dust--are they the same?"
+
+    "And a fool may tread on jewels, setting in his turban glass;
+    Yet, at selling, gems are gems, and fardels but for fardels pass."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Horse and weapon, lute and volume, man and woman, gift of speech,
+    Have their uselessness or uses in the one who owneth each."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Not disparagement nor slander kills the spirit of the brave;
+    Fling a torch down, upward ever burns the brilliant flame it gave."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Wisdom from the mouth of children be it overpast of none;
+    What man scorns to walk by lamplight in the absence of the sun?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Strength serves Reason. Saith the Mahout, when he beats the brazen
+        drum,
+    'Ho! ye elephants, to this work must your mightinesses come.'"
+
+    "Mighty natures war with mighty: when the raging tempests blow,
+    O'er the green rice harmless pass they, but they lay the palm-trees
+        low."
+
+    "Narrow-necked to let out little, big of belly to keep much,
+    As a flagon is--the Vizier of a Sultan should be such."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "He who thinks a minute little, like a fool misuses more;
+    He who counts a cowry nothing, being wealthy, will be poor."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Brahmans, soldiers, these and kinsmen--of the three set none in
+        charge:
+    For the Brahman, though you rack him, yields no treasure small or
+        large;
+    And the soldier, being trusted, writes his quittance with his sword,
+    And the kinsman cheats his kindred by the charter of the word;
+    But a servant old in service, worse than any one is thought,
+    Who, by long-tried license fearless, knows his master's anger nought."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Never tires the fire of burning, never wearies Death of slaying,
+    Nor the sea of drinking rivers, nor the bright-eyed of betraying."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "From false friends that breed thee strife,
+          From a house with serpents rife,
+          Saucy slaves and brawling wife--
+          Get thee forth, to save thy life."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Teeth grown loose, and wicked-hearted ministers, and poison trees,
+    Pluck them by the roots together; 'tis the thing that giveth ease."
+
+    "Long-tried friends are friends to cleave to--never leave thou these
+       i' the lurch:
+    What man shuns the fire as sinful for that once it burned a church?"
+
+    "Raise an evil soul to honour, and his evil bents remain;
+    Bind a cur's tail ne'er so straightly, yet it curleth up again."
+
+    "How, in sooth, should Trust and Honour change the evil nature's root?
+    Though one watered them with nectar, poison-trees bear deadly fruit."
+
+    "Safe within the husk of silence guard the seed of counsel so
+    That it break not--being broken, then the seedling will not grow."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Even as one who grasps a serpent, drowning in the bitter sea,
+    Death to hold and death to loosen--such is life's perplexity."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Woman's love rewards the worthless--kings of knaves exalters be;
+    Wealth attends the selfish niggard, and the cloud rains on the sea."
+
+    "Many a knave wins fair opinions standing in fair company,
+    As the sooty soorma pleases, lighted by a brilliant eye."
+
+    "Where the azure lotus blossoms, there the alligators hide;
+    In the sandal-tree are serpents. Pain and pleasure live allied."
+
+    "Rich the sandal--yet no part is but a vile thing habits there;
+    Snake and wasp haunt root and blossom; on the boughs sit ape and bear."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "As a bracelet of crystal, once broke, is not mended
+    So the favour of princes, once altered, is ended."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Wrath of kings, and rage of lightning--both be very full of dread;
+    But one falls on one man only--one strikes many victims dead."
+
+    "All men scorn the soulless coward who his manhood doth forget:
+    On a lifeless heap of ashes fearlessly the foot is set."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Simple milk, when serpents drink it, straightway into venom turns;
+    And a fool who heareth counsel all the wisdom of it spurns."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "A modest manner fits a maid,
+            And Patience is a man's adorning;
+          But brides may kiss, nor do amiss,
+            And men may draw, at scathe and scorning."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Serving narrow-minded masters dwarfs high natures to their size:
+    Seen before a convex mirror, elephants do show as mice."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Elephants destroy by touching, snakes with point of tooth beguile;
+    Kings by favour kill, and traitors murder with a fatal smile."
+
+    "Of the wife the lord is jewel, though no gems upon her beam;
+    Lacking him, she lacks adornment, howsoe'er her jewels gleam!"
+
+    "Hairs three-lakhs, and half-a-lakh hairs, on a man so many grow--
+    And so many years to Swarga shall the true wife surely go!"
+
+    "When the faithful wife, embracing tenderly her husband dead,
+    Mounts the blazing pyre beside him, as it were a bridal-bed;
+    Though his sins were twenty thousand, twenty thousand times o'er-told,
+    She shall bring his soul to splendour, for her love so large and bold."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Counsel unto six ears spoken, unto all is notified
+    When a King holds consultation, let it be with one beside."
+
+    "Sick men are for skilful leeches--prodigals for poisoning--
+    Fools for teachers--and the man who keeps a secret, for a King."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "With gift, craft, promise, cause thy foe to yield;
+    When these have failed thee, challenge him afield."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "The subtle wash of waves do smoothly pass,
+          But lay the tree as lowly as the grass."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Ten true bowmen on a rampart fifty's onset may sustain;
+    Fortalices keep a country more than armies in the plain."
+
+    "Build it strong, and build it spacious, with an entry and retreat;
+    Store it well with wood and water, fill its garners full with wheat."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Gems will no man's life sustain;
+          Best of gold is golden grain."
+
+    "Hard it is to conquer nature: if a dog were made a King,
+    'Mid the coronation trumpets he would gnaw his sandal-string."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "'Tis no Council where no Sage is--'tis no Sage that fears not Law;
+    'Tis no Law which Truth confirms not--'tis no Truth which Fear can
+        awe."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Though base be the Herald, nor hinder nor let,
+            For the mouth of a king is he;
+          The sword may be whet, and the battle set,
+            But the word of his message goes free."
+
+    "Better few and chosen fighters than of shaven-crowns a host,
+    For in headlong flight confounded, with the base the brave are lost."
+
+    "Kind is kin, howe'er a stranger--kin unkind is stranger shown;
+    Sores hurt, though the body breeds them--drugs relieve, though
+        desert-grown."
+
+    "Betel-nut is bitter, hot, sweet, spicy, binding, alkaline--
+    A demulcent--an astringent--foe to evils intestine;
+    Giving to the breath a fragrance--to the lips a crimson red;
+    A detergent, and a kindler of Love's flame that lieth dead.
+    Praise the Gods for the good betel!--these be thirteen virtues given,
+    Hard to meet in one thing blended, even in their happy heaven."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "He is brave whose tongue is silent of the trophies of his sword;
+    He is great whose quiet bearing marks his greatness well assured."
+
+    "When the Priest, the Leech, the Vizier of a King his flatterers be,
+    Very soon the King will part with health, and wealth and piety."
+
+    "Merciless, or money-loving, deaf to counsel, false of faith,
+    Thoughtless, spiritless, or careless, changing course with every
+        breath,
+    Or the man who scorns his rival--if a prince should choose a foe,
+    Ripe for meeting and defeating, certes he would choose him so."
+
+    "By the valorous and unskilful great achievements are not wrought;
+    Courage, led by careful Prudence, unto highest ends is brought."
+
+    "Grief kills gladness, winter summer, midnight-gloom the light of day,
+    Kindnesses ingratitude, and pleasant friends drive pain away;
+    Each ends each, but none of other surer conquerors can be
+    Than Impolicy of Fortune--of Misfortune Policy."
+
+    "Wisdom answers all who ask her, but a fool she cannot aid;
+    Blind men in the faithful mirror see not their reflection made."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Where the Gods are, or thy G�r�--in the face of Pain and Age,
+    Cattle, Brahmans, Kings, and Children--reverently curb thy rage."
+
+    "Oh, my Prince! on eight occasions prodigality is none--
+    In the solemn sacrificing, at the wedding of a son,
+    When the glittering treasure given makes the proud invader bleed,
+    Or its lustre bringeth comfort to the people in their need,
+    Or when kinsmen are to succour, or a worthy work to end,
+    Or to do a loved one honour, or to welcome back a friend."
+
+    "Truth, munificence, and valour, are the virtues of a King;
+    Royalty, devoid of either, sinks to a rejected thing."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Hold thy vantage!--alligators on the land make none afraid;
+    And the lion's but a jackal who hath left his forest-shade."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The people are the lotus-leaves, their monarch is the sun--
+    When he doth sink beneath the waves they vanish every one.
+    When he doth rise they rise again with bud and blossom rife,
+    To bask awhile in his warm smile, who is their lord and life."
+
+    "All the cows bring forth are cattle--only now and then is born
+    An authentic lord of pastures, with his shoulder-scratching horn."
+
+    "When the soldier in the battle lays his life down for his king,
+    Unto Swarga's perfect glory such a deed his soul shall bring."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "'Tis the fool who, meeting trouble, straightway Destiny reviles,
+    Knowing not his own misdoing brought his own mischance the whiles."
+
+    "'Time-not-come' and 'Quick-at-Peril,' these two fishes 'scaped the
+        net;
+    'What-will-be-will-be,' he perished, by the fishermen beset."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Sex, that tires of being true,
+          Base and new is brave to you!
+          Like the jungle-cows ye range,
+          Changing food for sake of change."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "That which will not be will not be, and what is to be will be:
+    Why not drink this easy physic, antidote of misery?"
+
+    "Whoso trusts, for service rendered, or fair words, an enemy,
+    Wakes from folly like one falling in his slumber from a tree."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Fellow be with kindly foemen, rather than with friends unkind;
+    Friend and foeman are distinguished not by title but by mind."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Whoso setting duty highest, speaks at need unwelcome things,
+    Disregarding fear and favour, such an one may succour kings."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Brahmans for their lore have honour; Kshattriyas for their bravery;
+    Vaisyas for their hard-earned treasure; Sudras for humility."
+
+    "Seven foemen of all foemen, very hard to vanquish be:
+    The Truth-teller, the Just-dweller, and the man from passion free.
+
+    "Subtle, self-sustained, and counting frequent well-won victories,
+    And the man of many kinsmen--keep the peace with such as these."
+
+    "For the man with many kinsmen answers by them all attacks;
+    As the bambu, in the bambus safely sheltered, scorns the axe."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Whoso hath the gift of giving wisely, equitably, well;
+    Whoso, learning all men's secrets, unto none his own will tell:
+    Whoso, ever cold and courtly, utters nothing that offends,
+    Such an one may rule his fellows unto Earth's extremest ends."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Cheating them that truly trust you, 'tis a clumsy villany!
+    Any knave may slay the child who climbs and slumbers on his knee."
+
+    "Hunger hears not, cares not, spares not; no boon of the starving beg;
+    When the snake is pinched with craving, verily she eats her egg."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Of the Tree of State the root
+          Kings are--feed what brings the fruit."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Courtesy may cover malice; on their _heads_ the woodmen bring,
+    Meaning all the while to burn them, logs and faggots--oh, my King!
+    And the strong and subtle river, rippling at the cedar's foot,
+    While it seems to lave and kiss it, undermines the hanging root."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Weep not! Life the hired nurse is, holding us a little space;
+    Death, the mother who doth take us back into our proper place."
+
+    "Gone, with all their gauds and glories: gone, like peasants, are the
+        Kings,
+    Whereunto this earth was witness, whereof all her record rings."
+
+    "For the body, daily wasting, is not seen to waste away,
+    Until wasted; as in water set a jar of unbaked clay."
+
+    "And day after day man goeth near and nearer to his fate,
+    As step after step the victim thither where its slayers wait."
+
+          "Like as a plank of drift-wood
+             Tossed on the watery main,
+           Another plank encountered,
+             Meets,--touches,--parts again;
+           So tossed, and drifting ever,
+             On life's unresting sea,
+           Men meet, and greet, and sever,
+             Parting eternally."
+
+    "Halt, traveller! rest i' the shade: then up and leave it!
+    Stay, Soul! take fill of love; nor losing, grieve it!"
+
+          "Each beloved object born
+           Sets within the heart a thorn,
+           Bleeding, when they be uptorn."
+
+    "If thine own house, this rotting frame, doth wither,
+    Thinking another's lasting--goest thou thither?"
+
+          "Meeting makes a parting sure,
+           Life is nothing but death's door."
+
+    "As the downward-running rivers never turn and never stay,
+    So the days and nights stream deathward, bearing human lives away."
+
+    "Bethinking him of darkness grim, and death's unshunn�d pain,
+    A man strong-souled relaxes hold, like leather soaked in rain."
+
+          "From the day, the hour, the minute.
+             Each life quickens in the womb;
+           Thence its march, no falter in it,
+             Goes straight forward to the tomb."
+
+    "An 'twere not so, would sorrow cease with years?
+    Wisdom sees right what want of knowledge fears."
+
+    "Seek not the wild, sad heart! thy passions haunt it;
+    Play hermit in thy house with heart undaunted;
+    A governed heart, thinking no thought but good,
+    Makes crowded houses holy solitude."
+
+    "Away with those that preach to us the washing off of sin--
+    Thine own self is the stream for thee to make ablutions in:
+    In self-restraint it rises pure--flows clear in tide of truth,
+    By widening banks of wisdom, in waves of peace and truth."
+
+    "Bathe there, thou son of Pandu! with reverence and rite,
+    For never yet was water wet could wash the spirit white."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Thunder for nothing, like December's cloud,
+    Passes unmarked: strike hard, but speak not loud."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Minds deceived by evil natures, from the good their faith withhold;
+    When hot conjee once has burned them, children blow upon the cold."
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Indian Poetry, by Edwin Arnold
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INDIAN POETRY ***
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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Indian Poetry, by Edwin Arnold
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Indian Poetry, by Edwin Arnold
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Indian Poetry
+       Containing "The Indian Song of Songs," from the Sanskrit
+              of the G�ta Govinda of Jayadeva, Two books from "The Iliad
+              Of India" (Mah�bh�rata), "Proverbial Wisdom" from the
+              Shlokas of the Hitopadesa, and other Oriental Poems.
+
+Author: Edwin Arnold
+
+Release Date: July 4, 2008 [EBook #25965]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INDIAN POETRY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Thierry Alberto, and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+<h1>INDIAN POETRY</h1>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h5>CONTAINING</h5>
+
+<h4>"<i>THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS," FROM THE SANSKRIT
+OF THE G&Icirc;TA GOVINDA OF JAYADEVA
+TWO BOOKS FROM "THE ILIAD OF INDIA" (MAH&Aacute;BH&Aacute;RATA)
+"PROVERBIAL WISDOM" FROM THE SHLOKAS OF THE
+HITOPADE&#346;A, AND OTHER ORIENTAL POEMS</i></h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>BY</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>SIR EDWIN ARNOLD, M.A., K.C.I.E., C.S.I.</h2>
+
+<h4><i>Author of "The Light of Asia"</i></h4>
+
+<h4>OFFICER OF THE WHITE ELEPHANT OF SIAM<br />
+THIRD CLASS OF THE IMPERIAL ORDER OF THE MEDJIDIE<br />
+FELLOW OF THE ROYAL ASIATIC AND ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETIES<br />
+HONORARY MEMBER OF THE SOCIET&Eacute; DE GEOGRAPHIE, MARSEILLES, ETC. ETC.<br />
+FORMERLY PRINCIPAL OF THE DECCAN COLLEGE, POONA<br />
+AND FELLOW OF THE UNIVERSITY OF BOMBAY</h4>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h4>EIGHTH IMPRESSION</h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>LONDON</h3>
+<h3>KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER &amp; CO. L<sup><span class="f1 u">TD</span></sup></h3>
+<h4>DRYDEN HOUSE, GERRARD STREET, W.</h4>
+<h3>1904</h3>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+<table summary="Contents">
+<tr><td></td><td class="tocpg f1">PAGE</td></tr>
+<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_INDIAN_SONG_OF_SONGS">The Indian Song of Songs</a></span><a href="#THE_INDIAN_SONG_OF_SONGS">&mdash;</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#INTRODUCTION">Introduction</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#HYMN_TO_VISHNU">Hymn to Vishnu</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#SARGA_THE_FIRST">Sarga the First&mdash;The Sports of Krishna</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#SARGA_THE_SECOND">Sarga the Second&mdash;The Penitence of Krishna</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#SARGA_THE_THIRD">Sarga the Third&mdash;Krishna troubled</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#SARGA_THE_FOURTH">Sarga the Fourth&mdash;Krishna cheered</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#SARGA_THE_FIFTH">Sarga the Fifth&mdash;The Longings of Krishna</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#SARGA_THE_SIXTH">Sarga the Sixth&mdash;Krishna made bolder</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#SARGA_THE_SEVENTH">Sarga the Seventh&mdash;Krishna supposed false</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#SARGA_THE_EIGHTH">Sarga the Eighth&mdash;The Rebuking of Krishna</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#SARGA_THE_NINTH">Sarga the Ninth&mdash;The End of Krishna's Trial</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#SARGA_THE_TENTH">Sarga the Tenth&mdash;Krishna in Paradise</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#SARGA_THE_ELEVENTH">Sarga the Eleventh&mdash;The Union of Radha and Krishna</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#MISCELLANEOUS_ORIENTAL_POEMS">Miscellaneous Oriental Poems</a></span><a href="#MISCELLANEOUS_ORIENTAL_POEMS">&mdash;</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#THE_RAJPOOT_WIFE">The Rajpoot Wife</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#KING_SALADIN">King Saladin</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#THE_CALIPHS_DRAUGHT">The Caliph's Draught</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#HINDOO_FUNERAL_SONG">Hindoo Funeral Song</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#SONG_OF_THE_SERPENT-CHARMERS">Song of the Serpent Charmers</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#SONG_OF_THE_FLOUR-MILL">Song of the Flour-Mill</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_140">140</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#TAZA_BA_TAZA">Taza ba Taza</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#THE_MUSSULMAN_PARADISE">The Mussulman Paradise</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_146">146</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#DEDICATION_OF_A_POEM_FROM_THE_SANSKRIT">Dedication of a Poem from the Sanskrit</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_150">150</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#THE_RAJAHS_RIDE">The Rajah's Ride</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#TWO_BOOKS_FROM_THE_ILIAD_OF_INDIA">Two Books From the "Iliad of India"</a></span></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#THE_MAHAPRASTHANIKA_PARVA_OF_THE_MAHABHARATA">The Great Journey</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="td1"><a href="#THE_ILIAD_OF_INDIA">The Entry into Heaven</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_192">192</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#FROM_THE_SAUPTIKA_PARVA_OF_THE_MAHABHARATA">The Night of Slaughter</a></span></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_210">210</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_MORNING_PRAYER">The Morning Prayer</a></span></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_216">216</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#PROVERBIAL_WISDOM">Proverbial Wisdom from the Shlokas of the Hitopadesa</a></span></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_INDIAN_SONG_OF_SONGS" id="THE_INDIAN_SONG_OF_SONGS"></a>THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.</h2>
+
+<h3><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION"></a><i>INTRODUCTION.</i></h3>
+<h2>OM!</h2>
+<h3>REVERENCE TO GANESHA!</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The sky is clouded; and the wood resembles<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sky, thick-arched with black Tam&acirc;la boughs;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Radha, Radha! take this Soul, that trembles<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In life's deep midnight, to Thy golden house."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So Nanda spoke,&mdash;and, led by Radha's spirit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The feet of Krishna found the road aright;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherefore, in bliss which all high hearts inherit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Together taste they Love's divine delight.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i8"><i>He who wrote these things for thee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Of the Son of Wassoodee</i>,</span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Was the poet Jayadeva;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Him Saraswati gave ever<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Fancies fair his mind to throng,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Like pictures palace-walls along;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Ever to his notes of love<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Lakshmi's mystic dancers move.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">If thy spirit seeks to brood<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">On Hari glorious, Hari good;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">If it feeds on solemn numbers.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Dim as dreams and soft as slumbers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Lend thine ear to Jayadev,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Lord of all the spells that save.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Umapatidhara's strain<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Glows like roses after rain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Sharan's stream-like song is grand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">If its tide ye understand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Bard more wise beneath the sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Is not found than Govardhun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Dhoyi holds the listener still<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">With his shlokes of subtle skill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">But for sweet words suited well<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Jayadeva doth excel.</i></span>
+
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p>
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">M&acirc;lava</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Rupaka</span>.)</p>
+
+<h2><a name="HYMN_TO_VISHNU" id="HYMN_TO_VISHNU"></a>HYMN TO VISHNU</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O thou that held'st the blessed Veda dry<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When all things else beneath the floods were hurled;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strong Fish-God! Ark of Men! <i>Jai!</i> Hari, <i>jai!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hail, Keshav, hail! thou Master of the world!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The round world rested on thy spacious nape;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Upon thy neck, like a mere mole, it stood:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O thou that took'st for us the Tortoise-shape,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hail, Keshav, hail! Ruler of wave and wood!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The world upon thy curving tusk sate sure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like the Moon's dark disc in her crescent pale;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O thou who didst for us assume the Boar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Immortal Conqueror! hail, Keshav, hail!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When thou thy Giant-Foe didst seize and rend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fierce, fearful, long, and sharp were fang and nail;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou who the Lion and the Man didst blend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lord of the Universe! hail, Narsingh, hail!</span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wonderful Dwarf!&mdash;who with a threefold stride<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Cheated King Bali&mdash;where thy footsteps fall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men's sins, O Wamuna! are set aside:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O Keshav, hail! thou Help and Hope of all!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The sins of this sad earth thou didst assoil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The anguish of its creatures thou didst heal;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Freed are we from all terrors by thy toil:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hail, Purshuram, hail! Lord of the biting steel!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To thee the fell Ten-Headed yielded life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thou in dread battle laid'st the monster low!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, Rama! dear to Gods and men that strife;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We praise thee, Master of the matchless bow!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With clouds for garments glorious thou dost fare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Veiling thy dazzling majesty and might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As when Yamuna saw thee with the share,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A peasant&mdash;yet the King of Day and Night.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Merciful-hearted! when thou earnest as Boodh&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Albeit 'twas written in the Scriptures so&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou bad'st our altars be no more imbrued<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With blood of victims: Keshav! bending low&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We praise thee, Wielder of the sweeping sword,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Brilliant as curving comets in the gloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose edge shall smite the fierce barbarian horde;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hail to thee, Keshav! hail, and hear, and come,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And fill this song of Jayadev with thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And make it wise to teach, strong to redeem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sweet to living souls. Thou Mystery!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thou Light of Life! Thou Dawn beyond the dream!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">Fish! that didst outswim the flood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Tortoise! whereon earth hath stood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Boar! who with thy tush held'st high<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The world, that mortals might not die;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Lion! who hast giants torn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Dwarf! who laugh'dst a king to scorn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Sole Subduer of the Dreaded!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Slayer of the many-headed!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Mighty Ploughman! Teacher tender!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Of thine own the sure Defender!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Under all thy ten disguises<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Endless praise to thee arises.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Gurjjar&icirc;</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Nihs&acirc;ra</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">Endless praise arises,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">O thou God that liest<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Rapt, on Kumla's breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Happiest, holiest, highest!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Planets are thy jewels,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Stars thy forehead-gems,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Set like sapphires gleaming<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In kingliest anadems;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Even the great gold Sun-God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Blazing through the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Serves thee but for crest-stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><i>Jai, jai!</i> Hari, <i>jai!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As that Lord of day<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">After night brings morrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou dost charm away<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Life's long dream of sorrow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As on Mansa's water<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Brood the swans at rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So thy laws sit stately<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On a holy breast.</span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i1">O, Drinker of the poison!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ah, high Delight of earth!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">What light is to the lotus-buds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">What singing is to mirth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Art thou&mdash;art thou that slayedst<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Madhou and Narak grim;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That ridest on the King of Birds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Making all glories dim.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With eyes like open lotus-flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Bright in the morning rain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Freeing by one swift piteous glance<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The spirit from Life's pain:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of all the three Worlds Treasure!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of sin the Putter-by!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">O'er the Ten-Headed Victor!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1"><i>Jai</i> Hari! Hari! <i>jai!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou Shaker of the Mountain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou Shadow of the Storm!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thou Cloud that unto Lakshmi's face<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Comes welcome, white, and warm!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">O thou,&mdash;who to great Lakshmi<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Art like the silvery beam<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Which moon-sick chakors feed upon</span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i1">By Jumna's silent stream,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To thee this hymn ascendeth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That Jayadev doth sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of worship, love, and mystery<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">High Lord and Heavenly King!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And unto whoso hears it<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Do thou a blessing bring&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Whose neck is gilt with yellow dust<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From lilies that did cling<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Beneath the breasts of Lakshmi,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A girdle soft and sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When in divine embracing<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The lips of Gods did meet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the beating heart above<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of thee&mdash;Dread Lord of Heaven!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She left that stamp of love&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">By such deep sign be given<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Prays Jayadev, the glory<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the secret and the spells<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Which close-hid in this story<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Unto wise ears he tells.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<p class="center">END OF INTRODUCTION.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="SARGA_THE_FIRST" id="SARGA_THE_FIRST"></a><i>SARGA THE FIRST.</i></h3>
+<h2>SAMODADAMODARO.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SPORTS OF KRISHNA.</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Beautiful Radha, jasmine-bosomed Radha,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">All in the Spring-time waited by the wood<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For Krishna fair, Krishna the all-forgetful,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Krishna with earthly love's false fire consuming&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And some one of her maidens sang this song:&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Vasanta</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Yati</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I know where Krishna tarries in these early days of Spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When every wind from warm Malay brings fragrance on its wing;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span><span class="i0">Brings fragrance stolen far away from thickets of the clove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In jungles where the bees hum and the Koil flutes her love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He dances with the dancers of a merry morrice one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All in the budding Spring-time, for 'tis sad to be alone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I know how Krishna passes these hours of blue and gold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When parted lovers sigh to meet and greet and closely hold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hand fast in hand; and every branch upon the Vakul-tree<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Droops downward with a hundred blooms, in every bloom a bee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is dancing with the dancers to a laughter-moving tone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the soft awakening Spring-time, when 'tis hard to live alone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where Kroona-flowers, that open at a lover's lightest tread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Break, and, for shame at what they hear, from white blush modest red;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span><span class="i0">And all the spears on all the boughs of all the Ketuk-glades<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seem ready darts to pierce the hearts of wandering youths and maids;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tis there thy Krishna dances till the merry drum is done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All in the sunny Spring-time, when who can live alone?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where the breaking forth of blossom on the yellow Keshra-sprays<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dazzles like Kama's sceptre, whom all the world obeys;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And P&acirc;tal-buds fill drowsy bees from pink delicious bowls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As Kama's nectared goblet steeps in languor human souls;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There he dances with the dancers, and of Radha thinketh none,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All in the warm new Spring-tide, when none will live alone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where the breath of waving M&acirc;dhvi pours incense through the grove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And silken Mogras lull the sense with essences of love,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span><span class="i0">The silken-soft pale Mogra, whose perfume fine and faint<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can melt the coldness of a maid, the sternness of a saint&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There dances with those dancers thine other self, thine Own,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All in the languorous Spring-time, when none will live alone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where&mdash;as if warm lips touched sealed eyes and waked them&mdash;all the bloom<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Opens upon the mangoes to feel the sunshine come;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Atimuktas wind their arms of softest green about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clasping the stems, while calm and clear great Jumna spreadeth out;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There dances and there laughs thy Love, with damsels many an one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the rosy days of Spring-time, for he will not live alone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i8"><i>Mark this song of Jayadev!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Deep as pearl in ocean-wave<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Lurketh in its lines a wonder<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Which the wise alone will ponder:</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Though it seemeth of the earth.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Heavenly is the music's birth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Telling darkly of delights<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">In the wood, of wasted nights,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Of witless days, and fruitless love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And false pleasures of the grove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And rash passions of the prime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And those dances of Spring-time;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Time, which seems so subtle-sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Time, which pipes to dancing-feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Ah! so softly&mdash;ah! so sweetly&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">That among those wood-maids featly<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Krishna cannot choose but dance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Letting pass life's greater chance.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">Yet the winds that sigh so<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">As they stir the rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Wake a sigh from Krishna<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Wistfuller than those;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">All their faint breaths swinging<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">The creepers to and fro<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Pass like rustling arrows<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Shot from Kama's bow:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
+<span class="i8">Thus among the dancers<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">What those zephyrs bring<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Strikes to Krishna's spirit<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Like a darted sting.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">And all as if&mdash;far wandered&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">The traveller should hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The bird of home, the Koil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">With nest-notes rich and clear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And there should come one moment<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">A blessed fleeting dream<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Of the bees among the mangoes<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Beside his native stream;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">So flash those sudden yearnings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">That sense of a dearer thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The love and lack of Radha<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Upon his soul in Spring.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then she, the maid of Radha, spake again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pointing far away between the leaves<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Guided her lovely Mistress where to look,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And note how Krishna wantoned in the wood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now with this one, now that; his heart, her prize,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span><span class="i0">Panting with foolish passions, and his eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beaming with too much love for those fair girls&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair, but not so as Radha; and she sang:<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">R&acirc;magir&icirc;</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Yati</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">See, Lady! how thy Krishna passes these idle hours<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Decked forth in fold of woven gold, and crowned with forest-flowers;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And scented with the sandal, and gay with gems of price&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rubies to mate his laughing lips, and diamonds like his, eyes;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the company of damsels,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> who dance and sing and play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lies Krishna, laughing, toying, dreaming his Spring away.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> It will be observed that the "Gopis" here personify the
+five senses. Lassen says, "<i>Manifestum est puellis istis nil aliud
+significar quam res sensiles</i>."</p></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One, with star-blossomed champ&acirc;k wreathed, wooes him to rest his head<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the dark pillow of her breast so tenderly outspread;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span><span class="i0">And o'er his brow with, roses blown she fans a fragrance rare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That falls on the enchanted sense like rain in thirsty air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the company of damsels wave many an odorous spray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Krishna, laughing, toying, sighs the soft Spring away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Another, gazing in his face, sits wistfully apart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Searching it with those looks of love that leap from heart to heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her eyes&mdash;afire with shy desire, veiled by their lashes black&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Speak so that Krishna cannot choose but send the message back,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the company of damsels whose bright eyes in a ring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shine round him with soft meanings in the merry light of Spring.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The third one of that dazzling band of dwellers in the wood&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Body and bosom panting with the pulse of youthful blood&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span><span class="i0">Leans over him, as in his ear a lightsome thing to speak,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then with leaf-soft lip imprints a kiss below his cheek;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A kiss that thrills, and Krishna turns at the silken touch<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To give it back&mdash;ah, Radha! forgetting thee too much.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And one with arch smile beckons him away from Jumna's banks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the tall bamboos bristle like spears in battle-ranks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And plucks his cloth to make him come into the mango-shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the fruit is ripe and golden, and the milk and cakes are laid:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! golden-red the mangoes, and glad the feasts of Spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fair the flowers to lie upon, and sweet the dancers sing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sweetest of all that Temptress who dances for him now<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With subtle feet which part and meet in the R&acirc;s-measure slow,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span><span class="i0">To the chime of silver bangles and the beat of rose-leaf hands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pipe and lute and cymbal played by the woodland bands;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So that wholly passion-laden&mdash;eye, ear, sense, soul o'ercome&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Krishna is theirs in the forest; his heart forgets its home.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i8"><i>Krishna, made for heavenly things,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8">'Mid those woodland singers sings;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">With those dancers dances featly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Gives back soft embraces sweetly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Smiles on that one, toys with this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Glance for glance and kiss for kiss;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Meets the merry damsels fairly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Plays the round of folly rarely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Lapped in milk-warm spring-time weather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>He and those brown girls together.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i8"><i>And this shadowed earthly love</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8">In the twilight of the grove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Dance and song and soft caresses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Meeting looks and tangled tresses</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Jayadev the same hath writ</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">That ye might have gain of it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Sagely its deep sense conceiving<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And its inner light believing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">How that Love&mdash;the mighty Master,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Lord of all the stars that cluster<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">In the sky, swiftest and slowest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Lord of highest, Lord of lowest&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Manifests himself to mortals,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Winning them towards the portals<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Of his secret House, the gates<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Of that bright Paradise which waits<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The wise in love. Ah, human creatures!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Even your phantasies are teachers.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Mighty Love makes sweet in seeming<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Even Krishna's woodland dreaming;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Mighty Love sways all alike<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">From self to selflessness. Oh! strike<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">From your eyes the veil, and see<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">What Love willeth Him to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Who in error, but in grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Sitteth with that lotus-face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And those eyes whose rays of heaven<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Unto phantom-eyes are given;</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Holding feasts of foolish mirth</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8">With these Visions of the earth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Learning love, and love imparting;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Yet with sense of loss upstarting:&mdash;</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i8"><i>For the cloud that veils the fountains</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Underneath the Sandal mountains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">How&mdash;as if the sunshine drew<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">All its being to the blue&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">It takes flight, and seeks to rise<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">High into the purer skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">High into the snow and frost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">On the shining summits lost!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Ah! and how the Koil's strain<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Smites the traveller with pain,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">When the mango blooms in spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And "Koohoo," "Koohoo," they sing&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Pain of pleasures not yet won,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Pain of journeys not yet done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Pain of toiling without gaining,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Pain, 'mid gladness, of still paining.</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But may He guide us all to glory high<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who laughed when Radha glided, hidden, by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all among those damsels free and bold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Touched Krishna with a soft mouth, kind and cold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And like the others, leaning on his breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unlike the others, left there Love's unrest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And like the others, joining in his song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unlike the others, made him silent long.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Here ends that Sarga of the G&icirc;ta Govinda entitled</i> <br />
+<span class="smcap">Samodadamodaro</span>.)</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="SARGA_THE_SECOND" id="SARGA_THE_SECOND"></a><i>SARGA THE SECOND.</i></h3>
+<h2>KLESHAKESHAVO.</h2>
+<h3>THE PENITENCE OF KRISHNA.</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus lingered Krishna in the deep, green wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gave himself, too prodigal, to those;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Radha, heart-sick at his falling-off,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seeing her heavenly beauty slighted so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Withdrew; and, in a bower of Paradise&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where nectarous blossoms wove a shrine of shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haunted by birds and bees of unknown skies&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She sate deep-sorrowful, and sang this strain,<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Gurjjar&icirc;</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Yati</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, my Beloved! taken with those glances,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, my Beloved! dancing those rash dances,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span><span class="i2">Ah, Minstrel! playing wrongful strains so well;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, Krishna! Krishna with the honeyed lip!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, Wanderer into foolish fellowship!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My Dancer, my Delight!&mdash;I love thee still.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O Dancer! strip thy peacock-crown away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rise! thou whose forehead is the star of day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With beauty for its silver halo set;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come! thou whose greatness gleams beneath its shroud<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like Indra's rainbow shining through the cloud&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come, for I love thee, my Beloved! yet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Must love thee&mdash;cannot choose but love thee ever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My best Beloved&mdash;set on this endeavor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To win thy tender heart and earnest eye<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From lips but sadly sweet, from restless bosoms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To mine, O Krishna with the mouth of blossoms!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To mine, thou soul of Krishna! yet I sigh<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Half hopeless, thinking of myself forsaken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thee, dear Loiterer, in the wood o'ertaken<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With passion for those bold and wanton ones,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span><span class="i0">Who knit thine arms as poison-plants gripe trees<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With twining cords&mdash;their flowers the braveries<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That flash in the green gloom, sparkling stars and stones.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My Prince! my Lotus-faced! my woe! my love!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose broad brow, with the tilka-spot above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shames the bright moon at full with fleck of cloud;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou to mistake so little for so much!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou, Krishna, to be palm to palm with such!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O Soul made for my joys, pure, perfect, proud!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, my Beloved! in thy darkness dear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, Dancer! with the jewels in thine ear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Swinging to music of a loveless love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O my Beloved! in thy fall so high<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That angels, sages, spirits of the sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Linger about thee, watching in the grove.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I will be patient still, and draw thee ever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My one Beloved, sitting by the river<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Under the thick kadambas with that throng:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span><span class="i0">Will there not come an end to earthly madness?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall I not, past the sorrow, have the gladness?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Must not the love-light shine for him ere long?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i8"><i>Shine, thou Light by Radha given</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Shine, thou splendid star of heaven!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Be a lamp to Krishna's feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Show to all hearts secrets sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Of the wonder and the love<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Jayadev hath writ above.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Be the quick Interpreter<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Unto wisest ears of her<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Who always sings to all, "I wait,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>He loveth still who loveth late."</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For (sang on that high Lady in the shade)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My soul for tenderness, not blame, was made;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mine eyes look through his evil to his good;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My heart coins pleas for him; my fervent thought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Prevents what he will say when these are naught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And that which I am shall be understood.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then spake she to her maiden wistfully&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">M&acirc;lavagauda</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Ekat&acirc;l&icirc;</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Go to him,&mdash;win him hither,&mdash;whisper low<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How he may find me if he searches well;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say, if he will&mdash;joys past his hope to know<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Await him here; go now to him, and tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Radha is, and that henceforth she charms<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">His spirit to her arms.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yes, go! say, if he will, that he may come&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">May come, my love, my longing, my desire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May come forgiven, shriven, to me his home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And make his happy peace; nay, and aspire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To uplift Radha's veil, and learn at length<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">What love is in its strength.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lead him; say softly I shall chide his blindness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And vex him with my angers; yet add this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He shall not vainly sue for loving-kindness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor miss to see me close, nor lose the bliss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That lives upon my lip, nor be denied<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The rose-throne at my side.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Say that I&mdash;Radha&mdash;in my bower languish<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All widowed, till he find the way to me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say that mine eyes are dim, my breast all anguish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Until with gentle murmured shame I see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His steps come near, his anxious pleading face<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Bend for my pardoning grace.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">While I&mdash;what, did he deem light loves so tender,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To tarry for them when the vow was made<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To yield him up my bosom's maiden splendour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And fold him in my fragrance, and unbraid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My shining hair for him, and clasp him close<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">To the gold heart of his Rose?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And sing him strains which only spirits know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And make him captive with the silk-soft chain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of twinned-wings brooding round him, and bestow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Kisses of Paradise, as pure as rain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My gems, my moonlight-pearls, my girdle-gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Cymbaling music bold?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">While gained for ever, I shall dare to grow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Life to life with him, in the realms divine;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span><span class="i0">And&mdash;Love's large cup at happy overflow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet ever to be filled&mdash;his eyes and mine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will meet in that glad look, when Time's great gate<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Closes and shuts out Fate.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i8"><i>Listen to the unsaid things</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Of the song that Radha sings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">For the soul draws near to bliss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">As it comprehendeth this.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">I am Jayadev, who write<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">All this subtle-rich delight<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">For your teaching. Ponder, then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">What it tells to Gods and men.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Err not, watching Krishna gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">With those brown girls all at play;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Understand how Radha charms<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Her wandering lover to her arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Waiting with divinest love<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Till his dream ends in the grove.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For even now (she sang) I see him pause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Heart-stricken with the waste of heart he makes<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span><span class="i0">Amid them;&mdash;all the bows of their bent brows<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wound him no more: no more for all their sakes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Plays he one note upon his amorous lute,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">But lets the strings lie mute.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Pensive, as if his parted lips should say&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">"My feet with the dances are weary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The music has dropped from the song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There is no more delight in the lute-strings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Sweet Shadows! what thing has gone wrong?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The wings of the wind have left fanning<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The palms of the glade;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They are dead, and the blossoms seem dying<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In the place where we played.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">"We will play no more, beautiful Shadows!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A fancy came solemn and sad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">More sweet, with unspeakable longings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Than the best of the pleasures we had:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I am not now the Krishna who kissed you;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That exquisite dream,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Vision I saw in my dancing&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Has spoiled what you seem.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">"Ah! delicate phantoms that cheated<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With eyes that looked lasting and true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I awake,&mdash;I have seen her,&mdash;my angel&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Farewell to the wood and to you!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, whisper of wonderful pity!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Oh, fair face that shone!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Though thou be a vision, Divinest!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">This vision is done."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Here ends that Sarga of the G&icirc;ta Govinda entitled</i> <br />
+<span class="smcap">Kleshakeshavo</span>.)</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="SARGA_THE_THIRD" id="SARGA_THE_THIRD"></a><i>SARGA THE THIRD.</i></h3>
+<h2>MUGDHAMADHUSUDANO.</h2>
+
+<h3>KRISHNA TROUBLED.</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thereat,&mdash;as one who welcomes to her throne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A new-made Queen, and brings before it bound<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her enemies,&mdash;so Krishna in his heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Throned Radha; and&mdash;all treasonous follies chained&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He played no more with those first play-fellows:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, searching through the shadows of the grove<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For loveliest Radha,&mdash;when he found her not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faint with the quest, despairing, lonely, lorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pierced with shame for wasted love and days,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sate by Jumna, where the canes are thick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sang to the wood-echoes words like these:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Gurjjar&icirc;</span> <i>and to the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Yati</span>)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Radha, Enchantress! Radha, queen of all!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Gone&mdash;lost, because she found me sinning here;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I so stricken with my foolish fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I could not stay her out of shame and fear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">She will not hear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In her disdain and grief vainly I call.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And if she heard, what would she do? what say?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How could I make it good that I forgot?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What profit was it to me, night and day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To live, love, dance, and dream, having her not?<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Soul without spot!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wronged thy patience, till it sighed away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sadly I know the truth. Ah! even now<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Remembering that one look beside the river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Softer the vexed eyes seem, and the proud brow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Than lotus-leaves when the bees make them quiver.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">My love for ever!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Too late is Krishna wise&mdash;too far art thou!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet all day long in my deep heart I woo thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And all night long with thee my dreams are sweet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why, then, so vainly must my steps pursue thee?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Why can I never reach thee, to entreat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Low at thy feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dear vanished Splendour! till my tears subdue thee?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Surpassing One! I knew thou didst not brook<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Half-hearted worship, and a love that wavers;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haho! there is the wisdom I mistook,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Therefore I seek with desperate endeavours;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">That fault dissevers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Me from my heaven, astray&mdash;condemned&mdash;forsook!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And yet I seem to feel, to know, thee near me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy steps make music, measured music, near:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Radha! my Radha! will not sorrow clear me?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shine once! speak one word pitiful and dear!<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Wilt thou not hear?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Canst thou&mdash;because I did forget&mdash;forsake me?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Forgive! the sin is sinned, is past, is over;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No thought I think shall do thee wrong again;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span><span class="i0">Turn thy dark eyes again upon thy lover<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bright Spirit! or I perish of this pain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Loving again!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In dread of doom to love, but not recover.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i8"><i>So did Krishna sing and sigh</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8">By the river-bank; and I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Jayadev of Kinduvilva,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Resting&mdash;as the moon of silver<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Sits upon the solemn ocean&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">On full faith, in deep devotion;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Tell it that ye may perceive<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">How the heart must fret and grieve;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">How the soul doth tire of earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>When the love from Heav'n hath birth.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For (sang he on) I am no foe of thine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There is no black snake, Kama! in my hair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blue lotus-bloom, and not the poisoned brine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shadows my neck; what stains my bosom bare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Thou God unfair!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is sandal-dust, not ashes; nought of mine.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Makes me like Shiva that thou, Lord of Love!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shouldst strain thy string at me and fit thy dart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This world is thine&mdash;let be one breast thereof<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which bleeds already, wounded to the heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">With lasting smart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shot from those brows that did my sin reprove.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou gavest her those black brows for a bow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Arched like thine own, whose pointed arrows seem<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her glances, and the underlids that go&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So firm and fine&mdash;its string? Ah, fleeting gleam!<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Beautiful dream!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Small need of Kama's help hast thou, I trow,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To smite me to the soul with love;&mdash;but set<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Those arrows to their silken cord! enchain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My thoughts in that loose hair! let thy lips, wet<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With dew of heaven as bimba-buds with rain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Bloom precious pain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of longing in my heart; and, keener yet,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The heaving of thy lovely, angry bosom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Pant to my spirit things unseen, unsaid;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span><span class="i0">But if thy touch, thy tones, if the dark blossom<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of thy dear face, thy jasmine-odours shed<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">From feet to head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If these be all with me, canst thou be far&mdash;be fled?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i0"><i>So sang he, and I pray that whoso hears</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The music of his burning hopes and fears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That whoso sees this vision by the River<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Krishna, Hari, (can we name him ever?)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And marks his ear-ring rubies swinging slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As he sits still, unheedful, bending low<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To play this tune upon his lute, while all<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Listen to catch the sadness musical;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Krishna wotteth nought, but, with set face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Turned full toward Radha's, sings on in that place;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May all such souls&mdash;prays Jayadev&mdash;be wise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>To lean the wisdom which hereunder lies.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Here ends that Sarga of the G&icirc;ta Govinda entitled</i><br />
+<span class="smcap">Mugdhamadhusudano</span>.)</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="SARGA_THE_FOURTH" id="SARGA_THE_FOURTH"></a><i>SARGA THE FOURTH.</i></h3>
+<h2>SNIGDHAMADHUSUDANO.</h2>
+
+<h3>KRISHNA CHEERED.</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then she whom Radha sent came to the canes&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The canes beside the river where he lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With listless limbs and spirit weak from love;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she sang this to Krishna wistfully:<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Karn&acirc;ta</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Ekat&acirc;l&icirc;</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Art thou sick for Radha? she is sad in turn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Heaven foregoes its blessings, if it holds not thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the cooling fragrance of sandal she doth spurn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Moonlight makes her mournful with radiance silvery;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span><span class="i0">Even the southern breeze blown fresh from pearly seas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Seems to her but tainted by a dolorous brine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for thy sake discontented, with a great love overladen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her soul comes here beside thee, and sitteth down with thine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her soul comes here beside thee, and tenderly and true<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It weaves a subtle mail of proof to ward off sin and pain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A breastplate soft as lotus-leaf, with holy tears for dew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To guard thee from the things that hurt; and then 'tis gone again<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To strew a blissful place with the richest buds that grace<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Kama's sweet world, a meeting-spot with rose and jasmine fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the hour when, well-contented, with a love no longer troubled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thou shalt find the way to Radha, and finish sorrows there.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But now her lovely face is shadowed by her fears;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her glorious eyes are veiled and dim like moonlight in eclipse<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span><span class="i0">By breaking rain-clouds, Krishna! yet she paints you in her tears<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With tender thoughts&mdash;not Krishna, but brow and breast and lips<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And form and mien a King, a great and godlike thing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And then with bended head she asks grace from the Love Divine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To keep thee discontented with the phantoms thou forswearest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till she may win her glory, and thou be raised to thine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">Softly now she sayeth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">"Krishna, Krishna, come!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Lovingly she prayeth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">"Fair moon, light him home."<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Yet if Hari helps not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Moonlight cannot aid;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Ah! the woeful Radha!<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Ah! the forest shade!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">Ah! if Hari guide not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Moonlight is as gloom;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Ah! if moonlight help not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">How shall Krishna come?<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span><span class="i8">Sad for Krishna grieving<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">In the darkened grove;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Sad for Radha weaving<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Dreams of fruitless love!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i6"><i>Strike soft strings to this soft measure</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">If thine ear would catch its treasure;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Slowly dance to this deep song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Let its meaning float along<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">With grave paces, since it tells<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Of a love that sweetly dwells<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In a tender distant glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>Past all faults of mortal story.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Desh&acirc;ga</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Ekat&acirc;l&icirc;</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Krishna, till thou come unto her, faint she lies with love and fear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Even the jewels of her necklet seem a load too great to bear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Krishna, till thou come unto her, all the sandal and the flowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vex her with their pure perfection though they grow in heavenly bowers.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Krishna, till thou come unto her, fair albeit those bowers may be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Passion burns her, and love's fire fevers her for lack of thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Krishna, till thou come unto her, those divine lids, dark and tender,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Droop like lotus-leaves in rain-storms, dashed and heavy in their splendour.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Krishna, till thou come unto her, that rose-couch which she hath spread<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saddens with its empty place, its double pillow for one head.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Krishna, till thou come unto her, from her palms she will not lift<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dark face hidden deep within them like the moon in cloudy rift.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Krishna, till thou come unto her, angel though she be, thy Love<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sighs and suffers, waits and watches&mdash;joyless 'mid those joys above.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Krishna, till them come unto her, with the comfort of thy kiss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deeper than thy loss, O Krishna! must be loss of Radha's bliss.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Krishna, while thou didst forget her&mdash;her, thy life, thy gentle fate&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wonderful her waiting was, her pity sweet, her patience great.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Krishna, come! 'tis grief untold to grieve her&mdash;shame to let her sigh;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come, for she is sick with love, and thou her only remedy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i8"><i>So she sang, and Jayadeva</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Prays for all, and prays for ever.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">That Great Hari may bestow<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Utmost bliss of loving so<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">On us all;&mdash;that one who wore<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The herdsman's form, and heretofore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">To save the shepherd's threatened flock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Up from the earth reared the huge rock&mdash;</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Bestow it with a gracious hand</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Albeit, amid the woodland band,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Clinging close in fond caresses<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Krishna gave them ardent kisses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Taking on his lips divine<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Earthly stamp and woodland sign.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Here ends that Sarga of the G&icirc;ta Govinda entitled</i><br />
+<span class="smcap">Snigdhamadhusudano</span>).</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="SARGA_THE_FIFTH" id="SARGA_THE_FIFTH"></a><i>SARGA THE FIFTH.</i></h3>
+<h2>SAKANDKSHAPUNDARIKAKSHO.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE LONGINGS OF KRISHNA.</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Say I am here! oh, if she pardons me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Say where I am, and win her softly hither."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So Krishna to the maid; and willingly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She came again to Radha, and she sang:<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Deshivar&acirc;d&icirc;</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Rupaka</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Low whispers the wind from Malaya<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Overladen with love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the hills all the grass is burned yellow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the trees in the grove<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span><span class="i0">Droop with tendrils that mock by their clinging<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The thoughts of the parted;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there lies, sore-sighing for thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy love, altered-hearted.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To him the moon's icy-chill silver<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is a sun at midday;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fever he burns with is deeper<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Than starlight can stay:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like one who falls stricken by arrows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With the colour departed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From all but his red wounds, so lies<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy love, bleeding-hearted.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To the music the banded bees make him<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He closeth his ear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the blossoms their small horns are blowing<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The honey-song clear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But as if every sting to his bosom<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Its smart had imparted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Low lies by the edge of the river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy love, aching-hearted.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By the edge of the river, far wandered<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From his once beloved bowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the haunts of his beautiful playmates,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the beds strewn with flowers;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now thy name is his playmate&mdash;that only!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the hard rocks upstarted<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the sand make the couch where he lies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy Krishna, sad-hearted.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i8"><i>Oh may Hari fill each soul</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">As these gentle verses roll<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Telling of the anguish borne<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">By kindred ones asunder torn!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Oh may Hari unto each<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">All the lore of loving teach,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">All the pain and all the bliss;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Jayadeva prayeth this!</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yea, Lady! in the self-same spot he waits<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where with thy kiss thou taught'st him utmost love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And drew him, as none else draws, with thy look;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all day long, and all night long, his cry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is "Radha, Radha," like a spell said o'er:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And in his heart there lives no wish nor hope<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save only this, to slake his spirit's thirst<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Radha's love with Radha's lips; and find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Peace on the immortal beauty of thy breast.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Gurjjar&icirc;</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Ekat&acirc;l&icirc;</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mistress, sweet and bright and holy!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Meet him in that place;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Change his cheerless melancholy<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Into joy and grace;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If thou hast forgiven, vex not;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If thou lovest, go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Watching ever by the river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Krishna listens low:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Listens low, and on his reed there<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Softly sounds thy name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Making even mute things plead there<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For his hope: 'tis shame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That, while winds are welcome to him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If from thee they blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mournful ever by the river<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Krishna waits thee so!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When a bird's wing stirs the roses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When a leaf falls dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Twenty times he recomposes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The flower-seat he has spread:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Twenty times, with anxious glances<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Seeking thee in vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sighing ever by the river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Krishna droops again.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Loosen from thy foot the bangle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lest its golden bell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a tiny, tattling jangle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Any false tale tell:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If thou fearest that the moonlight<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Will thy glad face know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Draw those dark braids lower, Lady!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But to Krishna go.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Swift and still as lightning's splendour<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Let thy beauty come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sudden, gracious, dazzling, tender,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To his arms&mdash;its home.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span><span class="i0">Swift as Indra's yellow lightning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shining through the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glide to Krishna's lonely bosom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Take him love and light.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Grant, at last, love's utmost measure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Giving, give the whole;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Keep back nothing of the treasure<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of thy priceless soul:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hold with both hands out unto him<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy chalice, let him drain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The nectar of its dearest draught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till not a wish remain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Only go&mdash;the stars are setting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And thy Krishna grieves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doubt and anger quite forgetting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hasten through the leaves:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherefore didst thou lead him heav'nward<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But for this thing's sake?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Comfort him with pity, Radha!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or his heart must break.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></div>
+<div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i8"><i>But while Jayadeva writes</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8">This rare tale of deep delights&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Jayadev, whose heart is given<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Unto Hari, Lord in Heaven&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">See that ye too, as ye read,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">With a glad and humble heed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Bend your brows before His face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>That ye may have bliss and grace.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And then the Maid, compassionate, sang on&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">Lady, most sweet!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">For thy coming feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He listens in the wood, with love sore-tried;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Faintly sighing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Like one a-dying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sends his thoughts afoot to meet his bride.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">Ah, silent one!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Sunk is the sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The darkness falls as deep as Krishna's sorrow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The chakor's strain<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Is not more vain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than mine, and soon gray dawn will bring white morrow.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">And thine own bliss<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Delays by this;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The utmost of thy heaven comes only so<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">When, with hearts beating<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And passionate greeting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Parting is over, and the parted grow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">One&mdash;one for ever!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And the old endeavour<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To be so blended is assuaged at last;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And the glad tears raining<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Have nought remaining<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of doubt or 'plaining; and the dread has passed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">Out of each face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">In the close embrace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That by-and-by embracing will be over;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The ache that causes<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Those mournful pauses<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In bowers of earth between lover and lover:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">To be no more felt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">To fade, to melt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the strong certainty of joys immortal;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
+<span class="i8">In the glad meeting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And quick sweet greeting<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of lips that close beyond Time's shadowy portal.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">And to thee is given,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Angel of Heaven!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This glory and this joy with Krishna. Go!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Let him attain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">For his long pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The prize it promised,&mdash;see thee coming slow,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">A vision first, but then&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">By glade and glen&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A lovely, loving soul, true to its home;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">His Queen&mdash;his Crown&mdash;his All,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Hast'ning at last to fall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon his breast, and live there. Radha, come!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i6"><i>Come! and come thou, Lord of all</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Unto whom the Three Worlds call;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Thou, that didst in angry might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Kansa, like a comet, smite;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Thou, that in thy passion tender,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>As incarnate spell and splendour,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>Hung on Radha's glorious face</i>&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In the garb of Krishna's grace&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">As above the bloom the bee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">When the honeyed revelry<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Is too subtle-sweet an one<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Not to hang and dally on;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Thou that art the Three Worlds' glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Of life the light, of every story<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The meaning and the mark, of love<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The root and, flower, o' the sky above<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The blue, of bliss the heart, of those,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The lovers, that which did impose<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The gentle law, that each should be<br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>The other's Heav'n and harmony.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Here ends that Sarga of the G&icirc;ta Govinda entitled</i><br />
+<span class="smcap">Sakandksilapundarikaksho</span>.)</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="SARGA_THE_SIXTH" id="SARGA_THE_SIXTH"></a><i>SARGA THE SIXTH.</i></h3>
+<h2>DHRISHTAVAIKUNTO.</h2>
+
+<h3>KRISHNA MADE BOLDER.</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But seeing that, for all her loving will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flower-soft feet of Radha had not power<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To leave their place and go, she sped again&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That maiden&mdash;and to Krishna's eager ears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Told how it fared with his sweet mistress there.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Gondakir&icirc;</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Rupaka</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Krishna! 'tis thou must come, (she sang)<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ever she waits thee in heavenly bower;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lotus seeks not the wandering bee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The bee must find the flower.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All the wood over her deep eyes roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Marvelling sore where tarries the bee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who leaves such lips of nectar unsought<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As those that blossom for thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her steps would fail if she tried to come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Would falter and fail, with yearning weak;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the first of the road they would falter and pause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the way is strange to seek.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Find her where she is sitting, then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With lotus-blossom on ankle and arm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wearing thine emblems, and musing of nought<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But the meeting to be&mdash;glad, warm.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To be&mdash;"but wherefore tarrieth he?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"What can stay or delay him?&mdash;go!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See if the soul of Krishna comes,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ten times she sayeth to me so;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ten times lost in a languorous swoon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"Now he cometh&mdash;he cometh," she cries;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a love-look lightens her eyes in the gloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the darkness is sweet with her sighs.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Till, watching in vain, she glideth again<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Under the shade of the whispering leaves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a heart too full of its love at last<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To heed how her bosom heaves.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i6"><i>Shall not these fair verses swell</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The number of the wise who dwell<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In the realm of Kama's bliss?<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Jayadeva prayeth this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Jayadev, the bard of Love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>Servant of the Gods above.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For all so strong in Heaven itself<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is Love, that Radha sits drooping there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her beautiful bosoms panting with thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the braids drawn back from her ear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And&mdash;angel albeit&mdash;her rich lips breathe<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sighs, if sighs were ever so sweet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And&mdash;if spirits can tremble&mdash;she trembles now<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From forehead to jewelled feet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And her voice of music sinks to a sob,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And her eyes, like eyes of a mated roe,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span><span class="i0">Are tender with looks of yielded love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With dreams dreamed long ago;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Long&mdash;long ago, but soon to grow truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To end, and be waking and certain and true;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of which dear surety murmur her lips,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As the lips of sleepers do:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And, dreaming, she loosens her girdle-pearls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And opens her arms to the empty air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then starts, if a leaf of the champ&acirc;k falls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sighing, "O leaf! Is he there?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Why dost thou linger in this dull spot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Haunted by serpents and evil for thee?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why not hasten to Nanda's House?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It is plain, if thine eyes could see.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i4"><i>May these words of high endeavour</i>&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Full of grace and gentle favour&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Find out those whose hearts can feel<br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>What the message did reveal,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Words that Radha's messenger</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Unto Krishna took from her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Slowly guiding him to come<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Through the forest to his home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Guiding him to find the road<br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Which led&mdash;though long&mdash;to Love's abode.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Here ends that Sarga of the G&icirc;ta Govinda entitled</i><br />
+<span class="smcap">Dhrishtavaikunto</span>.)</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="SARGA_THE_SEVENTH" id="SARGA_THE_SEVENTH"></a><i>SARGA THE SEVENTH.</i></h3>
+<h2>VIPRALABDHAVARNANE NAGARANARAYANO.</h2>
+
+<h3>KRISHNA SUPPOSED FALSE.</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Meantime the moon, the rolling moon, clomb high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And over all Vrind&aacute;vana it shone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The moon which on the front of gentle night<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gleams like the chundun-mark on beauty's brow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The conscious moon which hath its silver face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Marred with the shame of lighting earthly loves:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">And while the round white lamp of earth rose higher,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still he tarried, Radha, petulant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sang soft impatience and half-earnest fears:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">M&acirc;lava</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Yati</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis time!&mdash;he comes not!&mdash;will he come?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Can he leave me thus to pine?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Yami h&ecirc; kam sharanam!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ah! what refuge then is mine?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For his sake I sought the wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Threaded dark and devious ways;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Yami h&ecirc; kam sharanam!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Can it be Krishna betrays?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let me die then, and forget<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Anguish, patience, hope, and fear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Yami h&ecirc; kam sharanam!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ah, why have I held him dear?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, this soft night torments me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thinking that his faithless arms&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Yami h&ecirc; kam sharanam!</i>&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Clasp some shadow of my charms.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fatal shadow&mdash;foolish mock!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the great love shone confessed;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Yami h&ecirc; kam sharanam!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Krishna's lotus loads my breast;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Tis too heavy, lacking him;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like a broken flower I am&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Necklets, jewels, what are ye?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Yami h&ecirc; kam sharanam!</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Yami h&ecirc; kam sharanam!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sky is still, the forest sleeps;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Krishna forgets&mdash;he loves no more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He fails in faith, and Radha weeps.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i6"><i>But the poet Jayadev</i>&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">He who is great Hari's slave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">He who finds asylum sweet<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Only at great Hari's feet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">He who for your comfort sings<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">All this to the Vina's strings&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Prays that Radha's tender moan<br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>In your hearts be thought upon,</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>And that all her holy grace</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>Live there like the loved one's face.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet, if I wrong him! (sang she)&mdash;can he fail?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Could any in the wood win back his kisses?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could any softest lips of earth prevail<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To hold him from my arms? any love-blisses<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Blind him once more to mine? O Soul, my prize!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Art thou not merely hindered at this hour?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sore-wearied, wandering, lost? how otherwise<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shouldst thou not hasten to the bridal-bower?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But seeing far away that Maiden come<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alone, with eyes cast down and lingering steps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Again a little while she feared to hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Krishna false; and her quick thoughts took shape<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a fine jealousy, with words like these&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Something then of earth has held him<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From his home above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some one of those slight deceivers&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ah, my foolish love!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some new face, some winsome playmate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With her hair untied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the blossoms tangled in it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Woos him to her side.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On the dark orbs of her bosom&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Passionately heaved&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sink and rise the warm, white pearl-strings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, my love deceived!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fair? yes, yes! the rippled shadow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of that midnight hair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shows above her brow&mdash;as clouds do<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O'er the moon&mdash;most fair:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And she knows, with wilful paces,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How to make her zone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gleam and please him; and her ear-rings<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tinkle love; and grown<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Coy as he grows fond, she meets him<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With a modest show;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shaming truth with truthful seeming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While her laugh&mdash;light, low&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And her subtle mouth that murmurs.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And her silken cheek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her eyes, say she dissembles<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Plain as speech could speak.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Till at length, a fatal victress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of her triumph vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On his neck she lies and smiles there:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ah, my Joy!&mdash;my Pain!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i6"><i>But may Radha's fond annoy</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And may Krishna's dawning joy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Warm and waken love more fit&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Jayadeva prayeth it&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And the griefs and sins assuage<br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>Of this blind and evil age.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O Moon! (she sang) that art so pure and pale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is Krishna wan like thee with lonely waiting?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O lamp of love! art thou the lover's friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And wilt not bring him, my long pain abating?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O fruitless moon! thou dost increase my pain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O faithless Krishna! I have striven in vain.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span><span class="i0">And then, lost in her fancies sad, she moaned&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Gurjjar&icirc;</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Ekat&acirc;l&icirc;</span>)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">In vain, in vain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Earth will of earth! I mourn more than I blame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If he had known, he would not sit and paint<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tilka on her smooth black brow, nor claim<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Quick kisses from her yielded lips&mdash;false, faint&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">False, fragrant, fatal! Krishna's quest is o'er<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">By Jumna's shore!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Vain&mdash;it was vain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The temptress was too near, the heav'n too far;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I can but weep because he sits and ties<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Garlands of fire-flowers for her loosened hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And in its silken shadow veils his eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And buries his fond face. Yet I forgave<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">By Jumna's wave!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Vainly! all vain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Make then the most of that whereto thou'rt given,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Feign her thy Paradise&mdash;thy Love of loves;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span><span class="i0">Say that her eyes are stars, her face the heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her bosoms the two worlds, with sandal-groves<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full-scented, and the kiss-marks&mdash;ah, thy dream<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">By Jumna's stream!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">It shall be vain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vain to string the emeralds on her arm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And hang the milky pearls upon her neck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saying they are not jewels, but a swarm<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of crowded, glossy bees, come there to suck<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rosebuds of her breast, the sweetest flowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Of Jumna's bowers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">That shall be vain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor wilt thou so believe thine own blind wooing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor slake thy heart's thirst even with the cup<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which at the last she brims for thee, undoing<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her girdle of carved gold, and yielding up,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love's uttermost: brief the poor gain and pride<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">By Jumna's tide<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Because still vain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is love that feeds on shadow; vain, as thou dost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To look so deep into the phantom eyes<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span><span class="i0">For that which lives not there; and vain, as thou must,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To marvel why the painted pleasure flies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the fair, false wings seemed folded for ever<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">By Jumna's river.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">And vain! yes, vain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For me too is it, having so much striven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To see this slight snare take thee, and thy soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which should have climbed to mine, and shared my heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Spent on a lower loveliness, whose whole<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Passion of claim were but a parody<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Of that kept here for thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Ahaha! vain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For on some isle of Jumna's silver stream<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He gives all that they ask to those hard eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While mine which are his angel's, mine which gleam<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With light that might have led him to the skies&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That almost led him&mdash;are eclipsed with tears<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Wailing my fruitless prayers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">But thou, good Friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hang not thy head for shame, nor come so slowly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As one whose message is too ill to tell;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span><span class="i0">If thou must say Krishna is forfeit wholly&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wholly forsworn and lost&mdash;let the grief dwell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the sin doth,&mdash;except in this sad heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Which cannot shun its part.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i6"><i>O great Hari! purge from wrong</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The soul of him who writes this song;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Purge the souls of those that read<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">From every fault of thought and deed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">With thy blessed light assuage<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The darkness of this evil age!<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Jayadev the bard of love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Servant of the Gods above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Prays it for himself and you&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>Gentle hearts who listen!&mdash;too.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then in this other strain she wailed his loss&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Deshavar&acirc;d&icirc;</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Rupaka</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She, not Radha, wins the crown<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose false lips seemed dearest;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span><span class="i0">What was distant gain to him<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When sweet loss stood nearest?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love her, therefore, lulled to loss<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On her fatal bosom;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love her with such love as she<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Can give back in the blossom.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Love her, O thou rash lost soul!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With thy thousand graces;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Coin rare thoughts into fair words<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For her face of faces;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Praise it, fling away for it<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Life's purpose in a sigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All for those lips like flower-leaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And lotus-dark deep eye.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nay, and thou shalt be happy too<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till the fond dream is over;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she shall taste delight to hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The wooing of her lover;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The breeze that brings the sandal up<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From distant green Malay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall seem all fragrance in the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All coolness in the day.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The crescent moon shall seem to swim<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Only that she may see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The glad eyes of my Krishna gleam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And her soft glances he:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It shall be as a silver lamp<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Set in the sky to show<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rose-leaf palms that cling and clasp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the breast that beats below.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The thought of parting shall not lie<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Cold on their throbbing lives,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dread of ending shall not chill<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The glow beginning gives;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She in her beauty dark shall look&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As long as clouds can be&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As gracious as the rain-time cloud<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Kissing the shining sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And he, amid his playmates old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At least a little while,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall not breathe forth again the sigh<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That spoils the song and smile;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span><span class="i0">Shall be left wholly to his choice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Free for his pleasant sin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the golden-girdled damsels<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the bowers I found him in.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For me, his Angel, only<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sorrow and the smart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pale grief sitting on the brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The dead hope in the heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For me the loss of losing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For me the ache and dearth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My king crowned with the wood-flowers!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My fairest upon earth!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i6"><i>Hari, Lord and King of love</i>!<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">From thy throne of light above<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Stoop to help us, deign to take<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Our spirits to thee for the sake<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Of this song, which speaks the fears<br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>Of all who weep with Radha's tears.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But love is strong to pardon, slow to part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still the Lady, in her fancies, sang&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>
+<span class="i4">Wind of the Indian stream!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A little&mdash;oh! a little&mdash;breathe once more<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fragrance like his mouth's! blow from thy shore<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">One last word as he fades into a dream;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Bodiless Lord of love!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Show him once more to me a minute's space,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Krishna, with the love-look in his face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And then I come to my own place above;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">I will depart and give<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All back to Fate and her: I will submit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To thy stern will, and bow myself to it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Enduring still, though desolate, to live:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">If it indeed be life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Even so resigning, to sit patience-mad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To feel the zephyrs burn, the sunlight sad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The peace of holy heaven, a restless strife.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Haho! what words are these?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How can I live and lose him? how not go<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whither love draws me for a soul loved so?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How yet endure such sorrow?&mdash;or how cease?<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Wind of the Indian wave!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If that thou canst, blow poison here, not nard;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God of the five shafts! shoot thy sharpest hard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And kill me, Radha,&mdash;Radha who forgave!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">Or, bitter River,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yam&ucirc;n! be Yama's sister! be Death's kin!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swell thy wave up to me and gulf me in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Cooling this cruel, burning pain for ever.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i8"><i>Ah! if only visions stir</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Grief so passionate in her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">What divine grief will not take,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Spirits in heaven for the sake<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Of those who miss love? Oh, be wise!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Mark this story of the skies;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Meditate Govinda ever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Sitting by the sacred river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">The mystic stream, which o'er his feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Glides slow, with murmurs low and sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Till none can tell whether those be<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Blue lotus-blooms, seen veiledly<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Under the wave, or mirrored gems<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Reflected from the diadems</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Bound on the brows of mighty Gods</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Who lean from out their pure abodes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And leave their bright felicities<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>To guide great Krishna to his sides.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Here ends that Sarga of the G&icirc;ta Govinda entitled</i><br />
+<span class="smcap">Vipralabdhavarnane Nagaranarayano</span>.)</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="SARGA_THE_EIGHTH" id="SARGA_THE_EIGHTH"></a><i>SARGA THE EIGHTH.</i></h3>
+<h2>KHANDITAVARNANE VILAKSHALAKSHMIPATI.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE REBUKING OF KRISHNA.</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For when the weary night had worn away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In these vain fears, and the clear morning broke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lo, Krishna! lo, the longed-for of her soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came too!&mdash;in the glad light he came, and bent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His knee, and clasped his hands; on his dumb lips<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fear, wonder, joy, passion, and reverence<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strove for the trembling words, and Radha knew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Peace won for him and her; yet none the less<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A little time she eluded him, and sang:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Bhairav&icirc;</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Yati</span>)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Krishna!&mdash;then thou hast found me!&mdash;and thine eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Heavy and sad and stained, as if with weeping!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah! is it not that those, which were thy prize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So radiant seemed that all night thou wert keeping<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vigils of tender wooing?&mdash;have thy Love!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Here is no place for vows broken in making;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou Lotus-eyed! thou soul for whom I strove!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Go! ere I listen, my just mind forsaking.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Krishna! my Krishna with the woodland-wreath!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Return, or I shall soften as I blame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The while thy very lips are dark to the teeth<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With dye that from her lids and lashes came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Left on the mouth I touched. Fair traitor! go!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Say not they darkened, lacking food and sleep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long waiting for my face; I turn it&mdash;so&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Go! ere I half believe thee, pleading deep;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But wilt thou plead, when, like a love-verse printed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On the smooth polish of an emerald,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span><span class="i0">I see the marks she stamped, the kisses dinted<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Large-lettered, by her lips? thy speech withheld<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Speaks all too plainly; go,&mdash;abide thy choice!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If thou dost stay, I shall more greatly grieve thee;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not records of her victory?&mdash;peace, dear voice!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hence with that godlike brow, lest I believe thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For dar'st thou feign the saffron on thy bosom<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was not implanted in disloyal embrace?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or that this many-coloured love-tree blossom<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shone not, but yesternight, above her face?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Comest thou here, so late, to be forgiven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O thou, in whose eyes Truth was made to live?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O thou, so worthy else of grace and heaven?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O thou, so nearly won? Ere I forgive,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Go, Krishna! go!&mdash;lest I should think, unwise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy heart not false, as thy long lingering seems,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lest, seeing myself so imaged in thine eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I shame the name of Pity&mdash;turn to dreams<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sacred sound of vows; make Virtue grudge<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her praise to Mercy, calling thy sin slight;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span><span class="i0">Go therefore, dear offender! go! thy Judge<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Had best not see thee to give sentence right.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i6"><i>But may he grant us peace at last and bliss</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Who heard,&mdash;and smiled to hear,&mdash;delays like this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Delays that dallied with a dream come true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Fond wilful angers; for the maid laughed too<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To see, as Radha ended, her hand take<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">His dark role for her veil, and<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> Krishna make<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The word she spoke for parting kindliest sign<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">He should not go, but stay. O grace divine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Be ours too! Jayadev, the Poet of love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>Prays it from Hari, lordliest above.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Here ends that Sarga of the G&icirc;ta Govinda entitled</i><br />
+ <span class="smcap">Khanditavarnane Vilakshalakshmipati</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a></p>The text here is not closely followed.</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="SARGA_THE_NINTH" id="SARGA_THE_NINTH"></a><i>SARGA THE NINTH.</i></h3>
+<h2>KALAHANTARITAVARNANE MUGDHAMUKUNDO.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE END OF KRISHNA'S TRIAL.</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet not quite did the doubts of Radha die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor her sweet brows unbend; but she, the Maid&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Knowing her heart so tender, her soft arms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aching to take him in, her rich mouth sad<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the comfort of his kiss, and these fears false&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spake yet a little in fair words like these:<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center"><i>(What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Gurjjar&icirc;</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Yati</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The lesson that thy faithful love has taught him<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">He has heard;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wind of spring, obeying thee, hath brought him<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">At thy word;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span><span class="i0">What joy in all the three worlds was so precious<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To thy mind?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>M&acirc; kooroo m&acirc;nini m&acirc;namay&egrave;</i>,<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Ah, be kind!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> My proud one! do not indulge in scorn.</p></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No longer from his earnest eyes conceal<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Thy delights;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lift thy face, and let the jealous veil reveal<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">All his rights;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The glory of thy beauty was but given<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">For content;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>M&acirc; kooroo m&acirc;nini m&acirc;namay&egrave;</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Oh, relent!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Remember, being distant, how he bore thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In his heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Look on him sadly turning from before thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To depart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is he not the soul thou lovedst, sitting lonely<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In the wood?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>M&acirc; kooroo m&acirc;nini m&acirc;namay&egrave;</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">'Tis not good!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He who grants thee high delight in bridal-bower<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Pardons long;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What the gods do love may do at such an hour<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Without wrong;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why weepest thou? why keepest thou in anger<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Thy lashes down?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>M&acirc; kooroo m&acirc;nini m&acirc;namay&egrave;</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Do not frown!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lift thine eyes now, and look on him, bestowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Without speech;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let him pluck at last the flower so sweetly growing<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">In his reach;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fruit of lips, of loving tones, of glances<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">That forgive;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>M&acirc; kooroo m&acirc;nini m&acirc;namay&egrave;</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Let him live!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let him speak with thee, and pray to thee, and prove thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">All his truth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let his silent loving lamentation move thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Asking ruth;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span><span class="i0">How knowest thou? All, listen, dearest Lady,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">He is there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>M&acirc; kooroo m&acirc;nini m&acirc;namay&egrave;</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Thou must hear!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i8"><i>O rare voice, which is a spell</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Unto all on earth who dwell!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">O rich voice, of rapturous love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Making melody above!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Krishna's, Hari's&mdash;one in two,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Sound these mortal verses through!<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Sound like that soft flute which made<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Such a magic in the shade&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Calling deer-eyed maidens nigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Waking wish and stirring sigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Thrilling blood and melting breasts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Whispering love's divine unrests,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Winning blessings to descend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Bringing earthly ills to end;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Me thou heard in this song now<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Thou, the great Enchantment, thou!</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Here ends that Sarga of the G&icirc;ta Govinda entitled</i><br />
+<span class="smcap">Kalahantaritavarnane Mugdhamukundo</span>.)</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="SARGA_THE_TENTH" id="SARGA_THE_TENTH"></a><i>SARGA THE TENTH.</i></h3>
+<h2>MANINIVARNANE CHATURACHATURBHUJO.</h2>
+
+<h3>KRISHNA IN PARADISE.</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But she, abasing still her glorious eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still not yielding all her face to him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Relented; till with softer upturned look<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She smiled, while the Maid pleaded; so thereat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came Krishna nearer, and his eager lips<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mixed sighs with words in this fond song he sang:<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Desh&icirc;yavar&acirc;d&icirc;</span> <i>and the Mode</i>
+<span class="smcap">Ashtat&acirc;l&icirc;</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O angel of my hope! O my heart's home!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My fear is lost in love, my love in fear;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span><span class="i0">This bids me trust my burning wish, and come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That checks me with its memories, drawing near:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lift up thy look, and let the thing it saith<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">End fear with grace, or darken love to death.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Or only speak once more, for though thou slay me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy heavenly mouth must move, and I shall hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dulcet delights of perfect music sway me<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Again&mdash;again that voice so blest and dear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet Judge! the prisoner prayeth for his doom<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he may hear his fate divinely come.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Speak once more! then thou canst not choose but show<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy mouth's unparalleled and honeyed wonder<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where, like pearls hid in red-lipped shells, the row<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of pearly teeth thy rose-red lips lie under;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah me! I am that bird that woos the moon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pipes&mdash;poor fool! to make it glitter soon.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet hear me on&mdash;because I cannot stay<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The passion of my soul, because my gladness<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will pour forth from my heart;&mdash;since that far day<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When through the mist of all my sin and sadness<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span><span class="i0">Thou didst vouchsafe&mdash;Surpassing One!&mdash;to break,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All else I slighted for thy noblest sake.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou, thou hast been my blood, my breath, my being;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The pearl to plunge for in the sea of life;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sight to strain for, past the bounds of seeing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The victory to win through longest strife;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Queen! my crowned Mistress! my sphered bride!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take this for truth, that what I say beside.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of bold love&mdash;grown full-orbed at sight of thee&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">May be forgiven with a quick remission;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, thou divine fulfilment of all hope!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thou all-undreamed completion of the vision!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I gaze upon thy beauty, and my fear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Passes as clouds do, when the moon shines clear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So if thou'rt angry still, this shall avail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Look straight at me, and let thy bright glance wound me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fetter me! gyve me! lock me in the gaol<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of thy delicious arms; make fast around me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The silk-soft manacles of wrists and hands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then kill me! I shall never break those bands.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The starlight jewels flashing on thy breast<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Have not my right to hear thy beating heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The happy jasmine-buds that clasp thy waist<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are soft usurpers of my place and part;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If that fair girdle only there must shine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Give me the girdle's life&mdash;the girdle mine!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy brow like smooth Bandh&ucirc;ka-leaves; thy cheek<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which the dark-tinted Madhuk's velvet shows;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy long-lashed Lotus eyes, lustrous and meek;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy nose a Tila-bud; thy teeth like rows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Kunda-petals! he who pierceth hearts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Points with thy lovelinesses all five darts.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But Radiant, Perfect, Sweet, Supreme, forgive!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My heart is wise&mdash;my tongue is foolish still:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I know where I am come&mdash;I know I live&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I know that thou art Radha&mdash;that this will<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Last and be heaven: that I have leave to rise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up from thy feet, and look into thine eyes!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And, nearer coming, I ask for grace<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now that the blest eyes turn to mine;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span><span class="i0">Faithful I stand in this sacred place<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Since first I saw them shine:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dearest glory that stills my voice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beauty unseen, unknown, unthought!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Splendour of love, in whose sweet light<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Darkness is past and nought;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, beyond words that sound on earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Golden bloom of the garden of heaven!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Radha, enchantress! Radha, the queen!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Be this trespass forgiven&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In that I dare, with courage too much<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And a heart afraid,&mdash;so bold it is grown&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hold thy hand with a bridegroom's touch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And take thee for mine, mine own.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i8"><i>So they met and so they ended</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Pain and parting, being blended<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Life with life&mdash;made one for ever<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">In high love; and Jayadeva<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Hasteneth on to close the story<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Of their bridal grace and glory.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Here ends that Sarga of the G&icirc;ta Govinda entitled</i><br />
+ <span class="smcap">Maninivarnane
+Chaturachaturbhujo</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Much here also is necessarily paraphrased.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="SARGA_THE_ELEVENTH" id="SARGA_THE_ELEVENTH"></a><i>SARGA THE ELEVENTH.</i></h3>
+<h2>RADHIKAMILANE SANANDADAMODARO.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE UNION OF RADHA AND KRISHNA.</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus followed soft and lasting peace, and griefs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Died while she listened to his tender tongue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her eyes of antelope alight with love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And while he led the way to the bride-bower<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The maidens of her train adorned her fair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With golden marriage-cloths, and sang this song:<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Vasanta</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Yati</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Follow, happy Radha! follow,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the quiet falling twilight&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span><span class="i0">The steps of him who followed thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So steadfastly and far;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let us bring thee where the banjulas<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Have spread a roof of crimson,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lit up by many a marriage-lamp<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of planet, sun, and star:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the hours of doubt are over,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And thy glad and faithful lover<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath found the road by tears and prayers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To thy divinest side;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thou wilt not now deny him<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">One delight of all thy beauty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But yield up open-hearted<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His pearl, his prize, his bride.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, follow! while we fill the air<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With songs and softest music;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lauding thy wedded loveliness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dear Mistress past compare!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For there is not any splendour<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of Apsarasas immortal&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No glory of their beauty rich&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But Radha has a share;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span><span class="i0">Oh, follow! while we sing the song<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That fills the worlds with longing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The music of the Lord of love<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who melts all hearts with bliss;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For now is born the gladness<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That springs from mortal sadness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all soft thoughts and things and hopes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Were presages of this.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then, follow, happiest Lady!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Follow him thou lovest wholly;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hour is come to follow now<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The soul thy spells have led;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His are thy breasts like jasper-cups,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And his thine eyes like planets;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy fragrant hair, thy stately neck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy queenly sumptuous head;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy soft small feet, thy perfect lips,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy teeth like jasmine petals,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy gleaming rounded shoulders,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And long caressing arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Being thine to give, are his; and his<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The twin strings of thy girdle,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span><span class="i0">And his the priceless treasure<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of thine utter-sweetest charms.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So follow! while the flowers break forth<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In white and amber clusters,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the breath of thy pure presence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the radiance on thy brow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, follow where the Asokas wave<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their sprays of gold and purple,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if to beckon thee the way<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That Krishna passed but now;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is gone a little forward!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Though thy steps are faint for pleasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let him hear the tattling ripple<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the bangles round thy feet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Moving slowly o'er the blossoms<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On the path which he has shown thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That when he turns to listen<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It may make his fond heart beat.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And loose thy jewelled girdle<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A little, that its rubies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May tinkle softest music too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And whisper thou art near;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span><span class="i0">Though now, if in the forest<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thou should'st bend one blade of Kusha<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With silken touch of passing foot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His heart would know and hear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would hear the wood-buds saying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"It is Radha's foot that passes;"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would hear the wind sigh love-sick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"It is Radha's fragrance, this;"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would hear thine own heart beating<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Within thy panting bosom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And know thee coming, coming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His&mdash;ever,&mdash;ever&mdash;his!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"<i>Mine</i>! "&mdash;hark! we are near enough for hearing&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"<i>Soon she will come&mdash;she will smile&mdash;she will say</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Honey-sweet words of heavenly endearing;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>O soul! listen; my Bride is on her way!</i>"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hear'st him not, my Radha?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lo, night bendeth o'er thee&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Darker than dark Tam&acirc;la-leaves&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To list thy marriage-song;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dark as the touchstone that tries gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And see now&mdash;on before thee&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span><span class="i0">Those lines of tender light that creep<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The clouded sky along:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O night! that trieth gold of love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This love is proven perfect!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O lines that streak the touchstone sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Plash forth true shining gold!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O rose-leaf feet, go boldly!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O night!&mdash;that lovest lovers&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy softest robe of silence<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">About these bridals fold!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">See'st thou not, my Radha?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lo, the night, thy bridesmaid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Comes!&mdash;her eyes thick-painted<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With soorma of the gloom&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The night that binds the planet-worlds<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For jewels on her forehead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for emblem and for garland<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Loves the blue-black lotus-bloom;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The night that scents her breath so sweet<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With cool and musky odours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That joys to spread her veil of shade<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Over the limbs of love;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">And when, with loving weary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Yet dreaming love, they slumber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Sets the far stars for silver lamps<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To light them from above.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So came she where he stood, awaiting her<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the bower's entry, like a god to see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With marriage-gladness and the grace of heaven.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The great pearl set upon his glorious head<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shone like a moon among the leaves, and shone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like stars the gems that kept her gold gown close:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But still a little while she paused&mdash;abashed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At her delight, of her deep joy afraid&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they that tended her sang once more this:<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Var&acirc;di</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Rupaka</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Enter, thrice-happy! enter, thrice-desired!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let the gates of Hari shut thee in<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the soul destined to thee from of old.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Tremble not! lay thy lovely shame aside;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lay it aside with thine unfastened zone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And love him with the love that knows not fear,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Because it fears not change; enter thou in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flower of all sweet and stainless womanhood!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ever to grow bright, for ever new;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Enter beneath the flowers, O flower-fair!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath these tendrils, Loveliest! that entwine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And clasp, and wreathe and cling, with kissing stems;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Enter, with tender-blowing airs of heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soft as love's breath and gentle as the tones<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of lover's whispers, when the lips come close:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Enter the house of Love, O loveliest!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enter the marriage-bower, most beautiful!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And take and give the joy that Hari grants,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thy heart has entered, let thy feet go too!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lo, Krishna! lo, the one that thirsts for thee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Give him the drink of amrit from thy lips.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then she, no more delaying, entered straight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her step a little faltered, but her face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shone with unutterable quick love; and&mdash;while</span>,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The music of her bangles passed the porch&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shame, which had lingered in her downcast eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Departed shamed<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> ... and like the mighty deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which sees the moon and rises, all his life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Uprose to drink her beams.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Here ends that Sarga of the G&icirc;ta Govinda entitled</i><br />
+ <span class="smcap">Radhikamilane
+Sanandadamodaro</span>.)</p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a>
+<a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> This complete anticipation (<i>salajj&acirc; lajj&acirc;pi</i>) of the
+line&mdash;</p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Upon whose brow shame is ashamed to sit"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p>
+&mdash;occurs at the close of the Sarga, part of which is here perforce
+omitted, along with the whole of the last one.</p></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hari keep you! He whose might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On the King of Serpents seated,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flashes forth in dazzling light<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From the Great Snake's gems repeated:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hari keep you! He whose graces,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Manifold in majesty,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Multiplied in heavenly places&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Multiply on earth&mdash;to see<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Better with a hundred eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her bright charms who by him lies.<br /></span>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i2"><i>What skill may be in singing,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i4">What worship sound in song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What lore be taught in loving,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">What right divined from wrong:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Such things hath Jayadeva&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In this his Hymn of Love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which lauds Govinda ever,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4"><i>Displayed; may all approve!</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">THE END OF THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS </p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="MISCELLANEOUS_ORIENTAL_POEMS" id="MISCELLANEOUS_ORIENTAL_POEMS"></a><i>MISCELLANEOUS ORIENTAL POEMS.</i> </h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_RAJPOOT_WIFE" id="THE_RAJPOOT_WIFE"></a><i>THE RAJPOOT WIFE.</i></h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sing something, Jymul Rao! for the goats are gathered now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And no more water is to bring;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The village-gates are set, and the night is gray as yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">God hath given wondrous fancies to thee:&mdash;sing!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then Jymul's supple fingers, with a touch that doubts and lingers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sets athrill the saddest wire of all the six;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the girls sit in a tangle, and hush the tinkling bangle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While the boys pile the flame with store of sticks.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And vain of village praise, but full of ancient days,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He begins with a smile and with a sigh&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Who knows the babul-tree by the bend of the Ravee?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Quoth Gunesh, "I!" and twenty voices, "I!"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Well&mdash;listen! there below, in the shade of bloom and bough,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is a musjid of carved and coloured stone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Abdool Shureef Khan&mdash;I spit, to name that man!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lieth there, underneath, all alone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"He was Sultan Mahmoud's vassal, and wore an Amir's tassel<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In his green hadj-turban, at Nungul.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet the head which went so proud, it is not in his shroud;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There are bones in that grave,&mdash;but not a skull!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"And, deep drove in his breast, there moulders with the rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A dagger, brighter once than Chundra's ray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Rajpoot lohar whet it, and a Rajpoot woman set it<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Past the power of any hand to tear away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Twas the Ranee Neila true, the wife of Soorj Dehu,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lord of the Rajpoots of Nourpoor;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You shall hear the mournful story, with its sorrow and its glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And curse Shureef Khan,&mdash;the soor!"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All in the wide Five-Waters was none like Soorj Dehu,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To foeman who so dreadful, to friend what heart so true?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like Indus, through the mountains came down the Muslim ranks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And town-walls fell before them as flooded river-banks;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But Soorj Dehu the Rajpoot owned neither town nor wall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His house the camp, his roof-tree the sky that covers all;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His seat of state the saddle; his robe a shirt of mail;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His court a thousand Rajpoots close at his stallion's tail.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Not less was Soorj a Rajah because no crown he wore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save the grim helm of iron with sword-marks dinted o'er;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Because he grasped no sceptre save the sharp tulwar, made<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of steel that fell from heaven,&mdash;for 'twas Indra forged that blade!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And many a starless midnight the shout of "Soorj Dehu"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Broke up with spear and matchlock the Muslim's "Illahu."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And many a day of battle upon the Muslim proud<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell Soorj, as India's lightning falls from the silent cloud.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Nor ever shot nor arrow, nor spear nor slinger's stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could pierce the mail that Neila the Ranee buckled on:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But traitor's subtle tongue-thrust through fence of steel can break;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Soorj was taken sleeping, whom none had ta'en awake.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then at the noon, in durbar, swore fiercely Shureef Khan<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Soorj should die in torment, or live a Mussulman.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But Soorj laughed lightly at him, and answered, "Work your will!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The last breath of my body shall curse your Prophet still."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With words of insult shameful, and deeds of cruel kind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They vexed that Rajpoot's body, but never moved his mind.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And one is come who sayeth, "Ho! Rajpoots! Soorj is bound;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your lord is caged and baited by Shureef Khan, the hound.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The Khan hath caught and chained him, like a beast, in iron cage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the camp of Islam spends on him spite and rage;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"All day the coward Muslims spend on him rage and spite;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If ye have thought to help him, 'twere good ye go to-night."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Up sprang a hundred horsemen, flashed in each hand a sword;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In each heart burned the gladness of dying for their lord;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Up rose each Rajpoot rider, and buckled on with speed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bridle-chain and breast-cord, and the saddle of his steed.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But unto none sad Neila gave word to mount and ride;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Only she called the brothers of Soorj unto her side,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And said, "Take order straightway to seek this camp with me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If love and craft can conquer, a thousand is as three.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"If love be weak to save him, Soorj dies&mdash;and ye return,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For where a Rajpoot dieth, the Rajpoot widows burn."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thereat the Ranee Neila unbraided from her hair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pearls as great as Kashmir grapes Soorj gave his wife to wear,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And all across her bosoms&mdash;like lotus-buds to see&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She wrapped the tinselled sari of a dancing Kunchenee;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And fastened on her ankles the hundred silver bells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To whose light laugh of music the Nautch-girl darts and dwells.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And all in dress a Nautch-girl, but all in heart a queen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She set her foot to stirrup with a sad and settled mien.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Only one thing she carried no Kunchenee should bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The knife between her bosoms;&mdash;ho, Shureef! have a care!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thereat, with running ditty of mingled pride and pity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Jymul Rao makes the six wires sigh;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the girls with tearful eyes note the music's fall and rise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the boys let the fire fade and die.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All day lay Soorj the Rajpoot in Shureef's iron cage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All day the coward Muslims spent on him spite and rage.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With bitter cruel torments, and deeds of shameful kind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They racked and broke his body, but could not shake his mind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And only at the Azan, when all their worst was vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They left him, like dogs slinking from a lion in his pain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No meat nor drink they gave him through all that burning day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And done to death, but scornful, at twilight-time he lay.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So when the gem of Shiva uprose, the shining moon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soorj spake unto his spirit, "The end is coming soon."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I would the end might hasten, could Neila only know&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What is that Nautch-girl singing with voice so known and low?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Singing beneath the cage-bars the song of love and fear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Neila sang at parting!&mdash;what doth that Nautch-girl here?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Whence comes she by the music of Neila's tender strain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She, in that shameless tinsel?&mdash;O Nautch-girl, sing again!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ah, Soorj!"&mdash;so followed answer&mdash;"here thine own Neila stands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faithful in life and death alike,&mdash;look up, and take my hands:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Speak low, lest the guard hear us;&mdash;to-night, if thou must die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shureef shall have no triumph, but bear thee company."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So sang she like the Koil that dies beside its mate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With eye as black and fearless, and love as hot and great.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then the Chief laid his pale lips upon the little palm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sank down with a smile of love, his face all glad and calm;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And through the cage-bars Neila felt the brave heart stop fast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"O Soorj!"&mdash;she cried&mdash;"I follow! have patience to the last."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She turned and went. "Who passes?" challenged the Mussulman;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"A Nautch-girl, I."&mdash;"What seek'st thou?"&mdash;"The presence of the Khan;"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ask if the high chief-captain be pleased to hear me sing;"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Shureef, full of feasting, the Kunchenee bade bring.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then, all before the Muslims, aflame with lawless wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Entered the Ranee Neila, in grace and face divine;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And all before the Muslims, wagging their goatish chins,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Rajpoot Princess set her to the "bee-dance" that begins,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i8">"<i>If my love loved me, he should be a bee,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>I the yellow champ&acirc;k, love the honey of me.</i>"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All the wreathed movements danced she of that dance;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not a step she slighted, not a wanton glance;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In her unveiled bosom chased th' intruding bee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To her waist&mdash;and lower&mdash;she! a Rajpoot, she!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sang the melting music, swayed the languorous limb:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shureef's drunken heart beat&mdash;Shureef's eyes waxed dim.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From his finger Shureef loosed an Ormuz pearl&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"By the Prophet," quoth he, "'tis a winsome girl!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Take this ring; and 'prithee, come and have thy pay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I would hear at leisure more of such a lay."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Glared his eyes on her eyes, passing o'er the plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glared at the tent-purdah&mdash;never glared again!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Never opened after unto gaze or glance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eyes that saw a Rajpoot dance a shameful dance;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For the kiss she gave him was his first and last&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kiss of dagger, driven to his heart, and past.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At her feet he wallowed, choked with wicked blood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In his breast the katar quivered where it stood.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At the hilt his fingers vainly&mdash;wildly&mdash;try,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then they stiffen feeble;&mdash;die! thou slayer, die!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From his jewelled scabbard drew she Shureef's sword,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cut a-twain the neck-bone of the Muslim lord.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Underneath the starlight,&mdash;sooth, a sight of dread!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the Goddess Kali, comes she with the head,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Comes to where her brothers guard their murdered chief;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the camp is silent, but the night is brief.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At his feet she flings it, flings her burden vile;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Soorj! I keep my promise! Brothers, build the pile!"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They have built it, set it, all as Rajpoots do<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the cage of iron taken Soorj Dehu;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the lap of Neila, seated on the pile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Laid his head&mdash;she radiant, like a queen the while.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then the lamp is lighted, and the ghee is poured&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Soorj, we burn together: O my love, my lord!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the flame and crackle dies her tender tongue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dies the Ranee, truest, all true wives among.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At the dawn a clamour runs from tent to tent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the wild geese cackling when the night is spent.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Shureef Khan lies headless! gone is Soorj Dehu!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the wandering Nautch-girl, who has seen her, who?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This but know the sentries, at the "breath of morn"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forth there fared two horsemen, by the first was borne.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The urn of clay, the vessel that Rajpoots use to bring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ashes of dead kinsmen to Gungas' holy spring.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="KING_SALADIN" id="KING_SALADIN"></a><i>KING SALADIN</i>.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Long years ago&mdash;so tells Boccaccio<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In such Italian gentleness of speech<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As finds no echo in this northern air<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To counterpart its music&mdash;long ago,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Saladin was Soldan of the East,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The kings let cry a general crusade;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to the trysting-plains of Lombardy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The idle lances of the North and West<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rode all that spring, as all the spring runs down<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into a lake, from all its hanging hills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The clash and glitter of a hundred streams.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whereof the rumour reached to Saladin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that swart king&mdash;as royal in his heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As any crowned champion of the Cross&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he might fully, of his knowledge, learn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The purpose of the lords of Christendom,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span><span class="i0">And when their war and what their armament,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Took thought to cross the seas to Lombardy.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherefore, with wise and trustful Amirs twain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All habited in garbs that merchants use,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With trader's band and gipsire on the breasts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That best loved mail and dagger, Saladin<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Set forth upon his journey perilous.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In that day, lordly land was Lombardy!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A sea of country-plenty, islanded<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With cities rich; nor richer one than thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Marble Milano! from whose gate at dawn&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With ear that little recked the matin-bell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a keen eye to measure wall and foss&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Soldan rode; and all day long he rode<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Pavia; passing basilic, and shrine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gaze of vineyard-workers, wotting not<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yon trader was the Lord of Heathenesse.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All day he rode; yet at the wane of day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No gleam of gate, or ramp, or rising spire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor Tessin's sparkle underneath the stars<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Promised him Pavia; but he was 'ware<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of a gay company upon the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ladies and lords, with horses, hawks, and hounds:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span><span class="i0">Cap-plumes and tresses fluttered by the wind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of merry race for home. "Go!" said the king<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To one that rode upon his better hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"And pray these gentles of their courtesy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How many leagues to Pavia, and the gates<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What hour they close them?" Then the Saracen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Set spur, and being joined to him that seemed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">First of the hunt, he told the message&mdash;they<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Checking the jangling bits, and chiding down<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The unfinished laugh to listen&mdash;but by this<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came up the king, his bonnet in his hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Theirs doffed to him: "Sir Trader," Torel said<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Messer Torello 'twas, of Istria),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"They shut the Pavian gate at even-song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And even-song is sung." Then turning half,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Muttered, "Pardie, the man is worshipful,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A stranger too!" "Fair lord!" quoth Saladin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Please you to stead some weary travellers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saying where we may lodge, the town so far<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And night so near" "Of my heart, willingly,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made answer Torel, "I did think but now<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To send my knave an errand&mdash;he shall ride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bring you into lodgment&mdash;oh! no thanks,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span><span class="i0">Our Lady keep you!" then with whispered hest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He called their guide and sped them. Being gone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Torello told his purpose, and the band,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With ready zeal and loosened bridle-chains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rode for his hunting-palace, where they set<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A goodly banquet underneath the planes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hung the house with guest-lights, and anon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Welcomed the wondering strangers, thereto led<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unwitting, by a world of winding paths;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Messer Torello, at the inner gate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Waiting to take them in&mdash;a goodly host,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stamped current with God's image for a man<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chief among men, truthful, and just, and free.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then he, "Well met again, fair sirs! Our knave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath found you shelter better than the worst:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Please you to leave your selles, and being bathed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grace our poor supper here." Then Saladin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose sword had yielded ere his courtesy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Answered, "Great thanks, Sir Knight, and this much blame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You spoil us for our trade! two bonnets doffed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And travellers' questions holding you afield,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For those you give us this." "Sir! not your meed,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span><span class="i0">Nor worthy of your breeding; but in sooth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That is not out of Pavia." Thereupon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He led them to fair chambers decked with all<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Makes tired men glad; lights, and the marble bath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And flasks that sparkled, liquid amethyst,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And grapes, not dry as yet from evening dew.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thereafter at the supper-board they sat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor lacked it, though its guest was reared a king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Worthy provend in crafts of cookery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pastel, pasticcio&mdash;all set forth on gold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gracious talk and pleasant courtesies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spoken in stately Latin, cheated time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till there was none but held the stranger-sir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For all his chapman's dress of cramasie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Goodlier than silks could make him. Presently<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Talk rose upon the Holy Sepulchre:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I go myself," said Torel, "with a score<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of better knights&mdash;the flower of Pavia&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To try our steel against King Saladin's.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sirs! ye have seen the countries of the Sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Know you the Soldan?" Answer gave the king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"The Soldan we have seen&mdash;'twill push him hard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If, which I nothing doubt, you Pavian lords<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span><span class="i0">Are valorous as gentle;&mdash;we, alas!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are Cyprus merchants making trade to France&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dull sons of Peace." "By Mary!" Torel cried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"But for thy word, I ne'er heard speech so fit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To lead the war, nor saw a hand that sat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Liker a soldier's in the sabre's place;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But sure I hold you sleepless!" Then himself<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Playing the chamberlain, with torches borne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Led them to restful beds, commending them<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To sleep and God, Who hears&mdash;Allah or God&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When good men do his creatures charities.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At dawn the cock, and neigh of saddled steeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Broke the king's dreams of battle&mdash;not their own,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But goodly jennets from Torello's stalls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Caparisoned to bear them; he their host<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up, with a gracious radiance like the sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To bid them speed. Beside him in the court<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stood Dame Adalieta; comely she,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of her port as queenly, and serene<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if the braided gold about her brows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had been a crown. Mutual good-morrow given,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thanks said and stayed, the lady prayed her guest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To take a token of his sojourn there,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span><span class="i0">Marking her good-will, not his worthiness;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"A gown of miniver&mdash;these furbelows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are silk I spun&mdash;my lord wears ever such&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A housewife's gift! but those ye love are far;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wear it as given for them." Then Saladin&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"A precious gift, Madonna, past my thanks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And&mdash;but thou shalt not hear a 'no' from me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Past my receiving; yet I take it; we<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were debtors to your noble courtesy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of redemption&mdash;this but bankrupts us."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Nay, sir,&mdash;God shield you!" said the knight and dame.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Saladin, with phrase of gentilesse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Returned, or ever that he rode alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swore a great oath in guttural Arabic,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An oath by Allah&mdash;startling up the ears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of those three Christian cattle they bestrode&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That never yet was princelier-natured man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor gentler lady;&mdash;and that time should see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a king's lodging quittance royal repaid.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It was the day of the Passaggio:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ashore the war-steeds champed the burnished bit;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span><span class="i0">Afloat the galleys tugged the mooring-chain:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The town was out; the Lombard armourers&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Red-hot with riveting the helmets up,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And whetting axes for the heathen heads&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cooled in the crowd that filled the squares and street:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To speed God's soldiers. At the none that day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Messer Torello to the gate came down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leading his lady;&mdash;sorrow's hueless rose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grew on her cheek, and thrice the destrier<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Struck fire, impatient, from the pavement-squares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or ere she spoke, tears in her lifted eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Goest thou, lord of mine?" "Madonna, yes!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Said Torel, "for my soul's weal and the Lord<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ride I to-day: my good name and my house<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reliant I intrust thee, and&mdash;because<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It may be they shall slay me, and because,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Being so young, so fair, and so reputed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The noblest will entreat thee&mdash;wait for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Widow or wife, a year, and month, and day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then if thy kinsmen press thee to a choice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if I be not come, hold me for dead;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor link thy blooming beauty with the grave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Against thine heart." "Good my lord!" answered she,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span><span class="i0">"Hardly my heart sustains to let thee go;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy memory it can keep, and keep it will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though my one lord, Torel of Istria,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Live, or&mdash;&mdash;" "Sweet, comfort thee! San Pietro speed!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I shall come home: if not, and worthy knees<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bend for this hand, whereof none worthy lives,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Least he who lays his last kiss thus upon it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Look thee, I free it&mdash;&mdash;" "Nay!" she said, "but I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A petulant slave that hugs her golden chain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Give that gift back, and with it this poor ring:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Set it upon thy sword-hand, and in fight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be merciful and win, thinking of me."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then she, with pretty action, drawing on<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her ruby, buckled over it his glove&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The great steel glove&mdash;and through the helmet bars<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Took her last kiss;&mdash;then let the chafing steed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have its hot will and go.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">But Saladin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Safe back among his lords at Lebanon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well wotting of their quest, awaited it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And held the Crescent up against the Cross,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In many a doughty fight Ferrara blades<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span><span class="i0">Clashed with keen Damasc, many a weary month<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wasted afield; but yet the Christians<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Won nothing nearer to Christ's sepulchre;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay, but gave ground. At last, in Acre pent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On their loose files, enfeebled by the war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came stronger smiter than the Saracen&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The deadly Pest: day after day they died,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pikeman and knight-at-arms; day after day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thinner line upon the leaguered wall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Held off the heathen:&mdash;held them off a space;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, over-weakened, yielded, and gave up<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The city and the stricken garrison.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So to sad chains and hateful servitude<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fell all those purple lords&mdash;Christendom's stars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Once high in hope as soaring Lucifer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now low as sinking Hesper: with them fell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Messer Torello&mdash;never one so poor<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of all the hundreds that his bounty fed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As he in prison&mdash;ill-entreated, bound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Starved of sweet light, and set to shameful tasks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that great load at heart to know the days<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fast flying, and to live accounted dead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One joy his gaolers left him,&mdash;his good hawk;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span><span class="i0">The brave, gay bird that crossed the seas with him:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And often, in the mindful hour of eve,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With tameless eye and spirit masterful,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a feigned anger checking at his hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The good gray falcon made his master cheer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One day it chanced Saladin rode afield<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With shawled and turbaned Amirs, and his hawks&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lebanon-bred, and mewed as princes lodge&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flew foul, forgot their feather, hung at wrist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And slighted call. The Soldan, quick in wrath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bade slay the cravens, scourge the falconer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And seek some wight who knew the heart of hawks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To keep it hot and true. Then spake a Sheikh&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"There is a Frank in prison by the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far-seen herein." "Give word that he be brought,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth Saladin, "and bid him set a cast:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If he hath skill, it shall go well for him."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus by the winding path of circumstance<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One palace held, as prisoner and prince,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Torello and his guest: unwitting each,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay and unwitting, though they met and spake<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span><span class="i0">Of that goshawk and this&mdash;signors in serge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And chapmen crowned, who knows?&mdash;till on a time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some trick of face, the manner of some smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some gleam of sunset from the glad day gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Caught the king's eye, and held it. "Nazarene!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What native art thou?" asked he. "Lombard I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A man of Pavia." "And thy name?" "Torel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Messer Torello called in happier times,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now best uncalled." "Come hither, Christian!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Soldan said, and led the way, by court<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hall and fountain, to an inner room<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rich with king's robes: therefrom he reached a gown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And "Know'st thou this?" he asked. "High lord! I might<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Elsewhere," quoth Torel, "here 'twere mad to say<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yon gown my wife unto a trader gave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who shared our board." "Nay, but that gown is this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she the giver, and the trader I,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth Saladin; "I! twice a king to-day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Owing a royal debt and paying it."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then Torel, sore amazed, "Great lord, I blush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Remembering how the Master of the East<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lodged sorrily." "It's Master's Master thou!"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span><span class="i0">Gave answer Saladin, "come in and see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What wares the Cyprus traders keep at home;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come forth and take thy place, Saladin's friend,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Therewith into the circle of his lords,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With gracious mien the Soldan led his slave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And while the dark eyes glittered, seated him<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">First of the full divan. "Orient lords,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So spake he,&mdash;"let the one who loves his king<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Honour this Frank, whose house sheltered your king;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is my brother:" then the night-black beards<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swept the stone floor in ready reverence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Agas and Amirs welcoming Torel:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a great feast was set, the Soldan's friend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Royally garbed, upon the Soldan's hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shining the bright star of the banqueters.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All which, and the abounding grace and love<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shown him by Saladin, a little held<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The heart of Torel from its Lombard home<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Dame Adalieta: but it chanced<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sat beside the king in audience,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there came one who said, "Oh, Lord of lords,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span><span class="i0">That galley of the Genovese which sailed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Frankish prisoners is gone down at sea."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Gone down!" cried Torel. "Ay! what recks it, friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To fall thy visage for?" quoth Saladin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"One galley less to ship-stuffed Genoa!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Good my liege!" Torel said, "it bore a scroll<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Inscribed to Pavia, saying that I lived;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For in a year, a month, and day, not come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I bade them hold me dead; and dead I am,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Albeit living, if my lady wed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perchance constrained." "Certes," spake Saladin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"A noble dame&mdash;the like not won, once lost&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How many days remain?" "Ten days, my prince,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And twelvescore leagues between my heart and me:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas! how to be passed?" Then Saladin&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Lo! I am loath to lose thee&mdash;wilt thou swear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To come again if all go well with thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or come ill speeding?" "Yea, I swear, my king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of true love," quoth Torel, "heartfully."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then Saladin, "Take here my signet-seal;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My admiral will loose his swiftest sail<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon its sight; and cleave the seas, and go<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span><span class="i0">And clip thy dame, and say the Trader sends<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A gift, remindful of her courtesies."<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Passed were the year, and month, and day; and passed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of all hearts but one Sir Torel's name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long given for dead by ransomed Pavians:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Pavia, thoughtless of her Eastern graves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A lovely widow, much too gay for grief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made peals from half a hundred campaniles<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To ring a wedding in. The seven bells<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Santo Pietro, from the nones to noon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Boomed with bronze throats the happy tidings out;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the great tenor, overswelled with sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cracked itself dumb. Thereat the sacristan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leading his swink&egrave;d ringers down the stairs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came blinking into sunlight&mdash;all his keys<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jingling their little peal about his belt&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whom, as he tarried, locking up the porch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A foreign signor, browned with southern suns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Turbaned and slippered, as the Muslims use,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Plucked by the cope. "Friend," quoth he&mdash;'twas a tongue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Italian true, but in a Muslim mouth&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Why are your belfries busy&mdash;is it peace<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span><span class="i0">Or victory, that so ye din the ears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Pavian lieges?" "Truly, no liege thou!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grunted the sacristan, "who knowest not<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Dame Adalieta weds to-night<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her fore-betrothed,&mdash;Sir Torel's widow she,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That died i' the chain?" "To-night!" the stranger said<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Ay, sir, to-night!&mdash;why not to-night?&mdash;to-night!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you shall see a goodly Christian feast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If so you pass their gates at even-song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For all are asked."<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">No more the questioner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But folded o'er his face the Eastern hood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lest idle eyes should mark how idle words<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had struck him home. "So quite forgot!&mdash;so soon!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this the square wherein I gave the joust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that the loggia, where I fed the poor;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yon my palace, where&mdash;oh, fair! oh, false!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They robe her for a bridal. Can it be?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clean out of heart, with twice six flying moons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The heart that beat on mine as it would break,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That faltered forty oaths. Forced! forced!&mdash;not false&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well! I will sit, wife, at thy wedding-feast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let mine eyes give my fond faith the lie."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span><span class="i2">So in the stream of gallant guests that flowed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Feastward at eve, went Torel; passed with them<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The outer gates, crossed the great courts with them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A stranger in the walls that called him lord.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cressets and coloured lamps made the way bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rose-leaves strewed to where within the doors<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The master of the feast, the bridegroom, stood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A-glitter from his forehead to his foot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Speaking fair welcomes. He, a courtly lord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Marking the Eastern guest, bespoke him sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Prayed place for him, and bade them set his seat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the dais. Then the feast began,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wine went free as wit, and music died&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Outdone by merrier laughter.&mdash;only one<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor ate nor drank, nor spoke nor smiled; but gazed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the pale bride, pale as her crown of pearls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who sate so cold and still, and sad of cheer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the bride-feast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">But of a truth, Torel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Read the thoughts right that held her eyelids down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And knew her loyal to her memories.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then to a little page who bore the wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He spake, "Go tell thy lady thus from me:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span><span class="i0">In mine own land, if any stranger sit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A wedding-guest, the bride, out of her grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In token that she knows her guest's good-will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In token she repays it, brims a cup,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherefrom he drinking she in turn doth drink;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So is our use." The little page made speed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And told the message. Then that lady pale&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever a gentle and a courteous heart&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lifted her troubled eyes and smiled consent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the swart stranger. By her side, untouched,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stood the brimmed gold; "Bear this," she said, "and pray<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hold a Christian lady apt to learn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A kindly lesson." But Sir Torel loosed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From off his finger&mdash;never loosed before&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ring she gave him on the parting day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ere he drank, behind his veil of beard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dropped in the cup the ruby, quaffed, and sent.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then she, with sad smile, set her lips to drink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And&mdash;something in the Cyprus touching them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glanced&mdash;gazed&mdash;the ring!&mdash;her ring!&mdash;Jove! how she eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wistful eyes of Torel!&mdash;how, heartsure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Under all guise knowing her lord returned,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span><span class="i0">She springs to meet him coming!&mdash;telling all<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In one great cry of joy.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">O me! the rout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The storm of questions! stilled, when Torel spake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His name, and, known of all, claimed the Bride Wife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Maugre the wasted feast, and woful groom.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All hearts but his were light to see Torel;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Adalieta's lightest, as she plucked<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bridal-veil away. Something therein&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A lady's dagger&mdash;small, and bright, and fine&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clashed out upon the marble. "Wherefore that?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Asked Torel; answered she, "I knew you true;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I could live, so long as I might wait;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they&mdash;they pressed me hard! my days of grace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ended to-night&mdash;and I had ended too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faithful to death, if so thou hadst not come."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_CALIPHS_DRAUGHT" id="THE_CALIPHS_DRAUGHT"></a><i>THE CALIPH'S DRAUGHT</i>.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Upon a day in Ramadan&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When sunset brought an end of fast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in his station every man<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Prepared to share the glad repast&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sate Mohtasim in royal state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The pillaw smoked upon the gold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fairest slave of those that wait<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mohtasim's jewelled cup did hold.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of crystal carven was the cup,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With turquoise set along the brim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A lid of amber closed it up;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">'Twas a great king that gave it him.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The slave poured sherbet to the brink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Stirred in wild honey and pomegranate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With snow and rose-leaves cooled the drink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bore it where the Caliph sate.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Caliph's mouth was dry as bone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He swept his beard aside to quaff:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The news-reader beneath the throne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Went droning on with <i>ghain</i> and <i>kaf</i>.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Caliph drew a mighty breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Just then the reader read a word&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Mohtasim, as grim as death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Set down the cup and snatched his sword.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"<i>Ann' amratan shureefatee!</i>"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"Speak clear!" cries angry Mohtasim;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"<i>Fe lasr ind' ilj min ulji</i>,"&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Trembling the newsman read to him<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How in Ammoria, far from home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">An Arab girl of noble race<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was captive to a lord of Roum;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And how he smote her on the face,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And how she cried, for life afraid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"Ya, Mohtasim! help, O my king!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how the Kafir mocked the maid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And laughed, and spake a bitter thing,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span><span class="i0">"Call louder, fool! Mohtasim's ears<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are long as Barak's&mdash;if he heed&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your prophet's ass; and when he hears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He'll come upon a spotted steed!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Caliph's face was stern and red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He snapped the lid upon the cup;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Keep this same sherbet, slave," he said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"Till such time as I drink it up.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wallah! the stream my drink shall be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My hollowed palm my only bowl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till I have set that lady free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And seen that Roumi dog's head roll."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At dawn the drums of war were beat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Proclaiming, "Thus saith Mohtasim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Let all my valiant horsemen meet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And every soldier bring with him<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A spotted steed,'" So rode they forth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A sight of marvel and of fear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pied horses prancing fiercely north;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The crystal cup borne in the rear!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When to Ammoria he did win,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He smote and drove the dogs of Roum,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rode his spotted stallion in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Crying, "<i>Labbayki!</i> I am come!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then downward from her prison-place<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Joyful the Arab lady crept;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She held her hair before her face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She kissed his feet, she laughed and wept.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She pointed where that lord was laid:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They drew him forth, he whined for grace:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then with fierce eyes Mohtasim said&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"She whom thou smotest on the face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had scorn, because she called her king:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lo! he is come! and dost thou think<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To live, who didst this bitter thing<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While Mohtasim at peace did drink?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Flashed the fierce sword&mdash;rolled the lord's head;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The wicked blood smoked in the sand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Now bring my cup!" the Caliph said.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lightly he took it in his hand,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span><span class="i0">As down his throat the sweet drink ran<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mohtasim in his saddle laughed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cried, "<i>Taiba asshrab alan!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By God! delicious is this draught!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="HINDOO_FUNERAL_SONG" id="HINDOO_FUNERAL_SONG"></a><i>HINDOO FUNERAL SONG</i>.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Call on Rama! call to Rama!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, my brothers, call on Rama!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For this Dead<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whom we bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Call aloud to mighty Rama.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As we bear him, oh, my brothers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Call together, very loudly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That the Bh&ucirc;ts<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">May be scared;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That his spirit pass in comfort.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Turn his feet now, calling "Rama,"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Calling "Rama," who shall take him<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the flames<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Make an end:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ram! Ram!&mdash;oh, call to Rama.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SONG_OF_THE_SERPENT-CHARMERS" id="SONG_OF_THE_SERPENT-CHARMERS"></a><i>SONG OF THE SERPENT-CHARMERS.</i></h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come forth, oh, Snake! come forth, oh, glittering Snake!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh shining, lovely, deadly N&acirc;g! appear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dance to the music that we make,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">This serpent-song, so sweet and clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Blown on the beaded gourd, so clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">So soft and clear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, dread Lord Snake! come forth and spread thy hood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And drink the milk and suck the eggs; and show<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy tongue; and own the tune is good:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Hear, Maharaj! how hard we blow!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Ah, Maharaj! for thee we blow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">See how we blow!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Great Uncle Snake! creep forth and dance to-day!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This music is the music snakes love best;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Taste the warm white new milk, and play<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Standing erect, with fangs at rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Dancing on end, sharp fangs at rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Fierce fangs at rest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, wise Lord N&acirc;g! thou comest!&mdash;Fear thou not!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We make salaam to thee, the Serpent-King,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Draw forth thy folds, knot after knot;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Dance, Master! while we softly sing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Dance, Serpent! while we play and sing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">We play and sing.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dance, dreadful King! whose kisses strike men dead;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dance this side, mighty Snake! the milk is here!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center">[<i>They seize the Cobra by the neck</i>.]</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, <i>shabash</i>! pin his angry head!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thou fool! this nautch shall cost thee dear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Wrench forth his fangs! this piping clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">It costs thee dear!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SONG_OF_THE_FLOUR-MILL" id="SONG_OF_THE_FLOUR-MILL"></a><i>SONG OF THE FLOUR-MILL.</i></h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Turn the merry mill-stone, Gunga!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Pour the golden grain in;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those that twist the Churrak fastest<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The cakes soonest win:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Good stones, turn!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The fire begins to burn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Gunga, stay not!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The hearth is nearly hot.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grind the hard gold to silver;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sing quick to the stone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Feed its mouth with dal and bajri,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It will feed us anon.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sing, Gunga! to the mill-stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It helps the wheel hum;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span><span class="i0">Blithesome hearts and willing elbows<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Make the fine meal come:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Handsful three<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For you and for me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Now it falls white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Good stones, bite!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drive it round and round, my Gunga!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sing soft to the stone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Better corn and churrak-working<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Than idleness and none.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="TAZA_BA_TAZA" id="TAZA_BA_TAZA"></a><i>TAZA BA TAZA</i></h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Akbar sate high in the ivory hall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His chief musician he bade them call;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sing, said the king, that song of glee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sing me that music sweet and free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here by the fountain sing it thou,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bending full low, his minstrel took<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Vina down from its painted nook.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swept the strings of silver so<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made the gladsome Vina go<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now;</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span><span class="i0">Sang with light strains and brightsome brow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now</i>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"What is the lay for love most fit?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What is the melody echoes it?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever in tune and ever meet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever delightful and ever sweet<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soft as the murmur of love's first vow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now</i>."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"What is the bliss that is best on earth?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lovers' light whispers and tender mirth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bright gleams the sun on the Green Sea's isle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a brighter light has a woman's smile:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever, like sunrise, fresh of hue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever, like sunset, splendid and new,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now</i>."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Thereunto groweth the graceful vine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To cool the lips of lovers with wine,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span><span class="i0">Haste thee and bring the amethyst cup,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That happy lovers may drink it up;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so renew their gentle play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever delicious and new alway,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now</i>."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Thereunto sigheth the evening gale<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To freshen the cheeks which love made pale;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is why bloometh the scented flower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To gladden with grace love's secret bower:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love is the zephyr that always blows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love is the rose-bloom that ever glows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now</i>."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Akbar, the mighty one, smiled to hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The musical strain so soft and clear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Danced the diamonds over his brow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To <i>taza ba taza, now ba now</i>:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His lovely ladies rocked in a row<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To <i>taza ba taza, now ba now</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Livelier sparkled the fountain's flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Boose sittan ba kaum uzo</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swifter and sweeter the strings did go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Mutrib i khoosh nuwa bejo</i>;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Never such singing was heard, I trow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Taza ba taza, now ba now</i>.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_MUSSULMAN_PARADISE" id="THE_MUSSULMAN_PARADISE"></a><i>THE MUSSULMAN PARADISE</i>.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>From the Arabic of the Fifty-sixth S�rat of the Koran, entitled "The
+Inevitable.</i>")</p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the Day of Wrath and Mercy cometh, none shall doubt it come;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto hell some it shall lower, and exalt to heaven some.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the Earth with great shocks shaketh, and the mountains crumble flat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quick and Dead shall be divided fourfold:&mdash;on this side and that.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The "Companions of the Right Hand" (ah! how joyful they will be!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The "Companions of the Left Hand" (oh! what misery to see!)<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Such, moreover, as of old times loved the truth, and taught it well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">First in faith, they shall be foremost in reward. The rest to hell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But those souls attaining Allah, oh! the Gardens of good cheer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kept to bless them! Yea, besides the "faithful," many shall be there.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lightly lying on soft couches, beautiful with 'broidered gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Friends with friends, they shall be served by youths immortal, who shall hold.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"<i>Akw&acirc;b, abareek</i>"&mdash;cups and goblets, brimming with celestial wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wine that hurts not head or stomach: this and fruits of heav'n which shine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bright, desirable; and rich flesh of what birds they relish best.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yea! and&mdash;feasted&mdash;there shall soothe them damsels fairest, stateliest;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Damsels, having eyes of wonder, large black eyes, like hidden pearls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"<i>Lulu-l-makn&ucirc;n</i>": Allah grants them for sweet love those matchless girls.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Never in that Garden hear they speech of folly, sin, or dread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Only <span class="smcap">Peace</span>; "<i>SALAMUN</i>" only; that one word for ever said.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Peace! Peace! Peace!</span>&mdash;and the "Companions of the Right Hand" (ah! those bowers!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They shall lodge 'mid thornless lote-groves; under mawz-trees thick with flowers;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Shaded, fed, by flowing waters; near to fruits that never cloy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hanging ever ripe for plucking; and at hand the tender joy,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of those Maids of Heaven&mdash;the H&ucirc;ris. Lo! to these we gave a birth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Specially creating. Lo! they are not as the wives of earth.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ever virginal and stainless, howsooften they embrace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Always young, and loved, and loving, these are. Neither is there grace,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like the grace and bliss the Black-eyed keep for you in Paradise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, "Companions of the Right Hand"! oh! ye others who were wise!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="DEDICATION_OF_A_POEM_FROM_THE_SANSKRIT" id="DEDICATION_OF_A_POEM_FROM_THE_SANSKRIT"></a><i>DEDICATION OF A POEM FROM THE SANSKRIT</i>.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sweet, on the daisies of your English grave<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I lay this little wreath of Indian flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fragrant for me because the scent they have<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Breathes of the memory of our wedded hours;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For others scentless; and for you, in heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Too pale and faded, dear dead wife! to wear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save that they mean&mdash;what makes all fault forgiven&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That he who brings them lays his heart, too, there.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="f2"><i>April</i> 9, 1865.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_RAJAHS_RIDE" id="THE_RAJAHS_RIDE"></a><i>THE RAJAH'S RIDE</i>.</h2>
+
+<h4>A PUNJAB SONG.</h4>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now is the Devil-horse come to Sindh!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wah! wah! gooroo!&mdash;that is true!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His belly is stuffed with the fire and the wind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But a fleeter steed had Runjeet Dehu!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It's forty koss from Lahore to the ford,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Forty and more to far Jummoo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fast may go the Feringhee lord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But never so fast as Runjeet Dehu!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Runjeet Dehu was King of the Hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lord and eagle of every crest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now the swords and the spears are still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">God will have it&mdash;and God knows best!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Rajah Runjeet sate in the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Watching the loaded Kafilas in;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Affghan, Kashmeree, passing by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Paid him pushm to save their skin,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Once he caracoled into the plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wah! the sparkle of steel on steel!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And up the pass came singing again<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With a lakh of silver borne at his heel.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Once he trusted the Mussulman's word,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wah! wah! trust a liar to lie!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down from his eyrie they tempted my Bird,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And clipped his wings that he could not fly.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fettered him fast in far Lahore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fast by the gate at the Runchenee P&ucirc;l;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sad was the soul of Chunda Kour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Glad the merchants of rich Kurnool.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ten months Runjeet lay in Lahore&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wah! a hero's heart is brass!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ten months never did Chunda Kour<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Braid her hair at the tiring-glass.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There came a steed from Toorkistan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wah! God made him to match the hawk!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fast beside him the four grooms ran,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To keep abreast of the Toorkman's walk.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Black as the bear on Iskardoo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Savage at heart as a tiger chained;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fleeter than hawk that ever flew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Never a Muslim could ride him reined.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Runjeet Dehu! come forth from thy hold"&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wah! ten months had rusted his chain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Ride this Sheitan's liver cold"&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Runjeet twisted his hand in the mane.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Runjeet sprang to the Toorkman's back,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wah! a king on a kingly throne!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Snort, black Sheitan! till nostrils crack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Rajah Runjeet sits, a stone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Three times round the Maidan he rode,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Touched its neck at the Kashmeree wall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Struck the spurs till they spirted blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Leapt the rampart before them all!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Breasted the waves of the blue Ravee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Forty horsemen mounting behind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forty bridle-chains flung free,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wah! wah! better chase the wind!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Chunda Kour sate sad in Jummoo:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hark! what horse-hoof echoes without?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Rise! and welcome Runjeet Dehu&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wash the Toorkman's nostrils out!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Forty koss he has come, my life!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Forty koss back he must carry me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rajah Runjeet visits his wife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He steals no steed like an Afreedee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"They bade me teach them how to ride&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wah! wah! now I have taught them well!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chunda Kour sank low at his side!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Rajah Runjeet rode the hill.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When he came back to far Lahore&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Long or ever the night began&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spake he, "Take your horse once more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He carries well&mdash;when he bears a man."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then they gave him a khillut and gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All for his honour and grace and truth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sent him back to his mountain-hold&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Muslim manners have touch of ruth;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sent him back, with dances and drum&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wah! my Rajah Runjeet Dehu!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Chunda Kour and his Jummoo home&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wah! wah! futteh!&mdash;wah, gooroo!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="TWO_BOOKS_FROM_THE_ILIAD_OF_INDIA" id="TWO_BOOKS_FROM_THE_ILIAD_OF_INDIA"></a><i>TWO BOOKS FROM THE ILIAD OF INDIA.</i> </h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p>
+<h2><i>TWO BOOKS FROM THE ILIAD OF INDIA.</i></h2>
+
+<h4>(<i>Now for the first time translated</i>.)</h4>
+<p>There exist certain colossal, unparalleled, epic poems in the sacred
+language of India, which were not known to Europe, even by name, till
+Sir William Jones announced their existence; and which, since his
+time, have been made public only by fragments&mdash;by mere
+specimens&mdash;bearing to those vast treasures of Sanskrit literature such
+small proportion as cabinet samples of ore have to the riches of a
+mine. Yet these twain mighty poems contain all the history of ancient
+India, so far as it can be recovered, together with such inexhaustible
+details of its political, social, and religious life that the antique
+Hindu world really stands epitomised in them. The Old Testament is not
+more interwoven with the Jewish race, nor the New Testament with the
+civilisation of Christendom, nor the Koran with the records and
+destinies of Islam, than are these two Sanskrit poems&mdash;the Mah&aacute;bh&aacute;rata
+and R&aacute;m&aacute;yana&mdash;with that unchanging and teeming population which Her
+Majesty, Queen Victoria, rules<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> as Empress of Hindustan. The stories,
+songs, and ballads, the histories and genealogies, the nursery tales
+and religious discourses, the art, the learning, the philosophy, the
+creeds, the moralities, the modes of thought; the very phrases,
+sayings, turns of expression, and daily ideas of the Hindu people, are
+taken from these poems. Their children and their wives are named out
+of them; so are their cities, temples, streets, and cattle. They have
+constituted the library, the newspaper, and the Bible&mdash;generation
+after generation&mdash;to all the succeeding and countless millions of
+Indian people; and it replaces patriotism with that race and stands in
+stead of nationality to possess these two precious and inexhaustible
+books, and to drink from them as from mighty and overflowing rivers.
+The value ascribed in Hindustan to these yet little-known epics has
+transcended all literary standards established in the West. They are
+personified, worshipped, and cited from as something divine. To read
+or even listen to them is thought by the devout Hindu sufficiently
+meritorious to bring prosperity to his household here and happiness in
+the next world; they are held also to give wealth to the poor, health
+to the sick, wisdom to the ignorant; and the recitation of certain
+<i>parvas</i> and <i>shlokas</i> in them can fill the household of the barren,
+it is believed, with children. A concluding passage of the great poem
+says:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"The reading of this Mah&aacute;bh&aacute;rata destroys all sin and
+produces virtue; so much so, that the pronunciation of a
+single <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>shloka is sufficient to wipe away much guilt. This
+Mah&aacute;bh&aacute;rata contains the history of the gods, of the Rishis
+in heaven and those on earth, of the Gandharvas and the
+R&aacute;kshasas. It also contains the life and actions of the one
+God, holy, immutable, and true,&mdash;who is Krishna, who is the
+creator and the ruler of this universe; who is seeking the
+welfare of his creation by means of his incomparable and
+indestructible power; whose actions are celebrated by all
+sages; who has bound human beings in a chain, of which one
+end is life and the other death; on whom the Rishis
+meditate, and a knowledge of whom imparts unalloyed
+happiness to their hearts, and for whose gratification and
+favour all the daily devotions are performed by all
+worshippers. If a man reads the Mah&aacute;bh&aacute;rata and has faith in
+its doctrines, he is free from all sin, and ascends to
+heaven after his death." </p></div>
+
+<p>In order to explain the portion of this Indian epic, here for the
+first time published in English verse, I reprint a brief summary of
+its plot:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>The "great war of Bh&acirc;rat" has its first scenes in Hastinapur, an
+ancient and vanished city, formerly situated about sixty miles
+north-east of the modern Delhi. The Ganges has washed away even the
+ruins of this the metropolis of King Bh&acirc;rat's dominions. The poem
+opens with a "sacrifice of snakes," but this is a prelude, connected
+merely by a curious legend with the real beginning. That beginning is
+reached when the five sons of "King Pandu the Pale" and the five sons
+of "King Dhritarashtra the Blind," both of them descendants of Bh&acirc;rat,
+are being brought up together in the palace. The first were called
+Pandavas, the last Kauravas, and their lifelong feud is the main
+subject of the epic. Yudhishthira, Bh&iacute;ma, Arjuna, Nakula, and Sahadeva
+are the Pandava princes. Duryodhana<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> is chief of the Kauravas. They
+are instructed by one master, Drona, a Brahman, in the arts of war and
+peace, and learn to manage and brand cattle, hunt wild animals, and
+tame horses. There is in the early portion a striking picture of an
+Aryan tournament, wherein the young cousins display their skill,
+"highly arrayed, amid vast crowds," and Arjuna especially
+distinguishes himself. Clad in golden mail, he shows amazing feats
+with sword and bow. He shoots twenty-one arrows into the hollow of a
+buffalo-horn while his chariot whirls along; he throws the "chakra,"
+or sharp quoit, without once missing his victim; and, after winning
+the prizes, kneels respectfully at the feet of his instructor to
+receive his crown. The cousins, after this, march out to fight with a
+neighbouring king, and the Pandavas, who are always the favoured
+family in the poem, win most of the credit, so that Yudhishthira is
+elected from among them <i>Yuvaraj</i>, or heir apparent. This incenses
+Duryodhana, who, by appealing to his father, Dhritarashtra, procures a
+division of the kingdom, the Pandavas being sent to Vacanavat, now
+Allahabad. All this part of the story refers obviously to the advances
+gradually made by the Aryan conquerors of India into the jungles
+peopled by aborigines. Forced to quit their new city, the Pandavas
+hear of the marvellous beauty of Draupad&iacute;, whose <i>Swayamvara</i>, or
+"choice of a suitor," is about to be celebrated at K&acirc;mpilya. This
+again furnishes a strange and glittering picture of the old times;
+vast masses of holiday people, with rajahs, elephants, troops,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
+jugglers, dancing-women, and showmen, are gathered in a gay encampment
+round the pavilion of the King Draupada, whose lovely daughter is to
+take for her husband (on the well-understood condition that she
+approves of him) the fortunate archer who can strike the eye of a
+golden fish, whirling round upon the top of a tall pole, with an arrow
+shot from an enormously strong bow. The princess, adorned with radiant
+gems, holds a garland of flowers in her hand for the victorious
+suitor; but none of the rajahs can bend the bow. Arjuna, disguised as
+a Brahman, performs the feat with ease, and his youth and grace win
+the heart of Draupad&iacute; more completely than his skill. The princess
+henceforth follows the fortunes of the brothers, and, by a strange
+ancient custom, lives with them in common. The Pandavas, now allied to
+the King Draupada and become strong, are so much dreaded by the
+Kauravas that they are invited back again, for safety's sake, to
+Hastinapura, and settle near it in the city of Indraprastha, now
+Delhi. The reign of Yudhishthira and his brothers is very prosperous
+there; "every subject was pious; there were no liars, thieves, or
+cheats; no droughts, floods, or locusts; no conflagrations nor
+invaders, nor parrots to eat up the grain."</p>
+
+<p>The Pandava king, having subdued all enemies, now performs the
+<i>Rajasuya</i>, or ceremony of supremacy,&mdash;and here again occur
+wonderfully interesting pictures. Duryodhana comes thither, and his
+jealousy is inflamed by the magnificence of the rite. Among other
+curious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> incidents is one which seems to show that glass was already
+known. A pavilion is paved with "black crystal," which the Kaurava
+prince mistakes for water, and "draws up his garments lest he should
+be wetted." But now approaches a turning-point in the epic. Furious at
+the wealth and fortune of his cousins, Duryodhana invites them to
+Hastinapura to join in a great gambling festival. The passion for play
+was as strong apparently with these antique Hindus as that for
+fighting or for love: "No true Kshatriya must ever decline a challenge
+to combat or to dice." The brothers go to the entertainment, which is
+to ruin their prosperity; for Sakuni, the most skilful and lucky
+gambler, has loaded the "coupun," so as to win every throw. Mr.
+Wheeler's excellent summary again says:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Then Yudhishthira and Sakuni sat down to play, and whatever
+Yudhishthira laid as stakes Duryodhana laid something of
+equal value; but Yudhishthira lost every game. He first lost
+a very beautiful pearl; next a thousand bags each containing
+a thousand pieces of gold; next a great piece of gold so
+pure that it was as soft as wax; next a chariot set with
+jewels and hung all round with golden bells; next a thousand
+war-elephants with golden howdahs set with diamonds; next a
+lakh of slaves all dressed in rich garments; next a lakh of
+beautiful slave-girls, adorned from head to foot with golden
+ornaments; next all the remainder of his goods; next all his
+cattle; and then the whole of his R&acirc;j, excepting only the
+lands which had been granted to the Brahmans." </p></div>
+
+<p>After this tremendous run of ill-luck, he madly stakes Draupad&iacute; the
+Beautiful, and loses her. The princess is dragged away by the hair,
+and Duryodhana mockingly bids her come and sit upon his knee, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>
+which Bh&iacute;ma the Pandava swears that he will some day break his
+thigh-bone,&mdash;a vow which is duly kept. But the blind old king rebukes
+this fierce elation of the winner, restores Draupad&iacute;, and declares
+that they must throw another main to decide who shall leave
+Hastinapura. The cheating Sakuni cogs the dice again, and the Pandavas
+must now go away into the forest, and let no man know them by name for
+thirteen years. They depart, Draupad&iacute; unbinding her long black hair,
+and vowing never to fasten it back again till the hands of Bh&iacute;ma, the
+strong man among the Pandavas, are red with the punishment of the
+Kauravas. "Then he shall tie my tresses up again, when his fingers are
+dripping with Duhsasana's blood."</p>
+
+<p>There follow long episodes of their adventures in the jungle till the
+time when the Pandavas emerge, and, still disguised, take up their
+residence in King Vir&aacute;ta's city. Here the vicissitudes of Draupad&iacute; as
+a handmaid of the queen, of Bh&iacute;ma as the palace wrestler, of Arjuna
+disguised as a eunuch, and of Nakula, Sahadeva, and Yudhishthira,
+acting as herdsmen and attendants, are most absorbing and dramatic.
+The virtue of Draupad&iacute;, assailed by a prince of the State, is terribly
+defended by the giant Bh&iacute;ma; and when the Kauravas, suspecting the
+presence in the place of their cousins, attack Vir&aacute;ta, Arjuna drives
+the chariot of the heir apparent, and victoriously repulses them with
+his awful bow Gandiva.</p>
+
+<p>After all these evidences of prowess and the help<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> afforded in the
+battle, the King of Vir&aacute;ta discovers the princely rank of the
+Pandavas, and gives his daughter in marriage to the son of Arjuna. A
+great council is then held to consider the question of declaring war
+on the Kauravas, at which the speeches are quite Homeric, the god
+Krishna taking part. The decision is to prepare for war, but to send
+an embassy first. Meantime Duryodhana and Arjuna engage in a singular
+contest to obtain the aid of Krishna, whom both of them seek out. This
+celestial hero is asleep when they arrive, and the proud Kaurava, as
+Lord of Indraprastha, sits down at his head; Arjuna, more reverently,
+takes a place at his feet. Krishna, awaking, offers to give his vast
+army to one of them, and himself as counsellor to the other; and
+Arjuna gladly allows Duryodhana to take the army, which turns out much
+the worse bargain. The embassy, meantime, is badly received; but it is
+determined to reply by a counter-message, while warlike preparations
+continue. There is a great deal of useless negotiation, against which
+Draupad&iacute; protests, like another Constance, saying, "War, war! no
+peace! Peace is to me a war!" Krishna consoles her with the words,
+"Weep not! the time has nearly come when the Kauravas will be slain,
+both great and small, and their wives will mourn as you have been
+mourning." The ferocity of the chief of the Kauravas prevails over the
+wise counsels of the blind old king and the warnings of Krishna, so
+that the fatal conflict must now begin upon the plain of Kurukshetra.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>All is henceforth martial and stormy in the "parvas" that ensue. The
+two enormous hosts march to the field, generalissimos are selected,
+and defiances of the most violent and abusive sort exchanged. Yet
+there are traces of a singular civilisation in the rules which the
+leaders draw up to be observed in the war. Thus, no stratagems are to
+be used; the fighting men are to fraternise, if they will, after each
+combat; none may slay the flier, the unarmed, the charioteer, or the
+beater of the drum; horsemen are not to attack footmen, and nobody is
+to fling a spear till the preliminary challenges are finished; nor may
+any third man interfere when two combatants are engaged. These curious
+regulations&mdash;which would certainly much embarrass Von Moltke&mdash;are,
+sooth to say, not very strictly observed, and, no doubt, were inserted
+at a later age in the body of the poem by its Brahman editors. Those
+same interpolaters have overloaded the account of the eighteen days of
+terrific battle which follow with many episodes and interruptions,
+some very eloquent and philosophic; indeed, the whole <i>Bhagavad-G&icirc;ta</i>
+comes in hereabouts as a religious interlude. Essays on laws, morals,
+and the sciences are grafted, with lavish indifference to the
+continuous flow of the narrative, upon its most important portions;
+but there is enough of solid and tremendous fighting, notwithstanding,
+to pale the crimson pages of the Greek Iliad itself. The field
+glitters, indeed, with kings and princes in panoply of gold and
+jewels, who engage in mighty and varied combats, till the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> earth swims
+in blood, and the heavens themselves are obscured with dust and flying
+weapons. One by one the Kaurava chiefs are slain, and Bh&iacute;ma, the
+giant, at last meets in arms Duhsasana, the Kaurava prince who had
+dragged Draupad&iacute; by the hair. He strikes him down with the terrible
+mace of iron, after which he cuts off his head, and drinks of his
+blood, saying, "Never have I tasted a draught so delicious as this."
+So furious now becomes the war that even the just and mild Arjuna
+commits two breaches of Aryan chivalry,&mdash;killing an enemy while
+engaged with a third man, and shooting Karna dead while he is
+extricating his chariot-wheel and without a weapon. At last none are
+left of the chief Kauravas except Duryodhana, who retires from the
+field and hides in an island of the lake. The Pandavas find him out,
+and heap such reproaches on him that the surly warrior comes forth at
+length, and agrees to fight with Bh&iacute;ma. The duel proves of a
+tremendous nature, and is decided by an act of treachery; for Arjuna,
+standing by, reminds Bh&iacute;ma, by a gesture, of his oath to break the
+thigh of Duryodhana, because he had bidden Draupad&iacute; sit on his knee.
+The giant takes the hint, and strikes a foul blow, which cripples the
+Kaurava hero, and he falls helpless to earth. After this the Pandava
+princes are declared victorious, and Yudhishthira is proclaimed king.</p>
+
+<p>The great poem soon softens its martial music into a pathetic strain.
+The dead have to be burned, and the living reconciled to their new
+lords; while afterwards<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> King Yudhishthira is installed in high state
+with "ch&aacute;maras, golden umbrellas, elephants, and singing." He is
+enthroned facing towards the east, and touches rice, flowers, earth,
+gold, silver, and jewels, in token of owning all the products of his
+realm. Being thus firmly seated on his throne, with his cousins round
+him, the Rajah prepares to celebrate the most magnificent of ancient
+Hindu rites,&mdash;the <i>Aswamedha</i>, or Sacrifice of the Horse. It is
+difficult to raise the thoughts of a modern and Western public to the
+solemnity, majesty, and marvel of this antique Oriental rite, as
+viewed by Hindus. The monarch who was powerful enough to perform it
+chose a horse of pure white colour, "like the moon," with a saffron
+tail, and a black right ear; or the animal might be all black, without
+a speck of colour. This steed, wearing a gold plate on its forehead,
+with the royal name inscribed, was turned loose, and during a whole
+year the king's army was bound to follow its wanderings. Whithersoever
+it went, the ruler of the invaded territory must either pay homage to
+the king, and join him with his warriors, or accept battle; but
+whether conquered or peacefully submitting, all these princes must
+follow the horse, and at the end of the year assist at the sacrifice
+of the consecrated animal. Moreover, during the whole year the king
+must restrain all passion, live a perfectly purified life, and sleep
+on the bare ground. The white horse could not be loosened until the
+night of the full moon in <i>Chaitra</i>, which answers to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> latter half
+of March and the first half of April,&mdash;in fact, at Easter-time; and it
+may be observed here that this is not the only strange coincidence in
+the sacrifice. It was thus an adventure of romantic conquest, mingled
+with deep religion and arrogant ostentation; and the entire
+description of the <i>Aswamedha</i> would prove most interesting. The horse
+is found, is adorned with the golden plate, and turned loose,
+wandering into distant regions; where the army of Arjuna&mdash;for it was
+he who led Yudhishthira's forces&mdash;goes through twelve amazing
+adventures. They come, for instance, to a land of Amazons, all of
+wonderful beauty, wearing armour of pearls and gold, and equally fatal
+either to love or to fight with. These dazzling enemies, however,
+finally submit, as also the Rajah of the rich city of Babhruv&aacute;han,
+which possessed high walls of solid silver, and was lighted with
+precious jewels for lamps. The serpent people, in the same way, who
+live beneath the earth in the city of Vasuki, yield, after combat, to
+Arjuna. A thousand million semi-human snakemen dwelt there, with wives
+of consummate loveliness, possessing in their realm gems which would
+restore dead people to life, as well as a fountain of perpetual youth.
+Finally, Arjuna's host marches back in great glory, and with a vast
+train of vanquished monarchs, to the city of Hastinapura, where all
+the subject kings have audience of Yudhishthira, and the immense
+preparations begin for the sacrifice of the snow-white horse.</p>
+
+<p>After all these stately celebrations, it might be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> expected that the
+great poem would conclude with the established glories of the ancient
+dynasty. But if the martial part of the colossal epic is "Kshatriyan,"
+and the religious episodes "Brahmanic," the conclusion breathes the
+spirit of Buddhism. Yudhishthira sits grandly on the throne; but
+earthly greatness does not content the soul of man, nor can riches
+render weary hearts happy. A wonderful scene, which reads like a
+rebuke from the dead addressed to the living upon the madness of all
+war, occurs in this part of the poem. The Pandavas and the old King
+Dhritarashtra being together by the banks of the Ganges, the great
+saint Vy&aacute;sa undertakes to bring back to them all the departed, slain
+in their fratricidal conflict. The spectacle is at once terrible and
+tender.</p>
+
+<p>But this revealing of the invisible world deepens the discontent of
+the princes, and when the sage Vy&aacute;sa tells them that their prosperity
+is near its end, they determine to leave their kingdom to younger
+princes, and to set out with their faces towards Mount Meru, where is
+Indra's heaven. If, haply, they may reach it, there will be an end of
+this world's joys and sorrows, and "union with the Infinite" will be
+obtained. My translations from the Sanskrit of the two concluding
+parvas of the poem (of which the above is a swift summary) describe
+the "Last Journey" of the princes and their "Entry into Heaven;" and
+herein occurs one of the noblest religious apologues not only of this
+great Epic but of any creed,&mdash;a beautiful fable of faithful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> love
+which may be contrasted, to the advantage of the Hindu teaching, with
+any Scriptural representations of Death, and of Love, "which stronger
+is than Death." There is always something selfish in the anxiety of
+Orthodox people to save their own souls, and our best religious
+language is not free from that taint of pious egotism. The Parvas of
+the Mah&aacute;bh&aacute;rata which contain Yudhishthira's approach to Indra's
+paradise teach, on the contrary, that deeper and better lesson nobly
+enjoined by an American poet&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The gate of heaven opens to none alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save thou one soul, and it shall save thine own."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>These prefatory remarks seemed necessary to introduce the subjoined
+close paraphrase of the "Book of the Great Journey,"&mdash;and the "Book of
+the Entry into Heaven;" being the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Parvas of
+the noble but, as yet, almost unknown Mah&aacute;bh&aacute;rata.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_MAHAPRASTHANIKA_PARVA_OF_THE_MAHABHARATA" id="THE_MAHAPRASTHANIKA_PARVA_OF_THE_MAHABHARATA"></a>THE MAHAPRASTH&Aacute;NIKA PARVA OF <br />
+THE MAH&Aacute;BH&Aacute;RATA.</h2>
+
+<h4>"THE GREAT JOURNEY."</h4>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i0"><i>To Narayen, Lord of lords, be glory given</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To sweet Saraswati, the Queen in Heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To great Vy&aacute;sa, eke, pay reverence due,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>So shall this story its high course pursue.</i><br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then Janmejaya prayed: "Thou Singer, say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What wrought the princes of the Pandavas<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On tidings of the battle so ensued,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Krishna, gone on high?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Answered the Sage:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"On tidings of the wreck of Vrishni's race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">King Yudhishthira of the Pandavas<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was minded to be done with earthly things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to Arjuna spake: 'O noble Prince,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Time endeth all; we linger, noose on neck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the last day tightens the line, and kills.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let us go forth to die, being yet alive,'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Kunti's son, the great Arjuna, said:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Let us go forth to die!&mdash;Time slayeth all;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We will find Death, who seeketh other men.'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Bhimasena, hearing, answered: 'Yea!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We will find Death!' and Sahadev cried: 'Yea!'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his twin brother Nakula: whereat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The princes set their faces for the Mount.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But Yudhishthira&mdash;ere he left his realm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To seek high ending&mdash;summoned Yuyutsu,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span><span class="i0">Surnamed of fights, and set him over all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Regent, to rule in Parikshita's name<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nearest the throne; and Parikshita king<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He crowned, and unto old Subhadra said:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'This, thy son's son, shall wear the Kuru crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Yadu's offspring, Vajra, shall be first<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Yadu's house. Bring up the little prince<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here in our Hastinapur, but Vajra keep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At Indraprasth; and let it be thy last<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of virtuous works to guard the lads, and guide.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"So ordering ere he went, the righteous king<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made offering of white water, heedfully,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Vasudev, to Rama, and the rest,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All funeral rites performing; next he spread<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A funeral feast, whereat there sate as guests<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Narada, Dwaipayana, Bharadwaj,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Markandeya, rich in saintly years,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Tajnavalkya, Hari, and the priests.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those holy ones he fed with dainty meats<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In kingliest wise, naming the name of Him<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who bears the bow: and&mdash;that it should be well<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For him and his&mdash;gave to the Brahmanas<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span><span class="i0">Jewels of gold and silver, lakhs on lakhs.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair broidered cloths, gardens and villages,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chariots and steeds and slaves.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">"Which being done,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Best of Bh&acirc;rat's line!&mdash;he bowed him low<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before his Guru's feet,&mdash;at Kripa's feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sage all honoured,&mdash;saying, 'Take my prince;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Teach Parikshita as thou taughtest me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For hearken, ministers and men of war!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fixed is my mind to quit all earthly state.'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full sore of heart were they, and sore the folk<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hear such speech, and bitter spread the word<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through town and country, that the king would go;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the people cried, 'Stay with us, Lord!'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Yudhishthira knew the time was come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Knew that life passes and that virtue lasts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And put aside their love.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">"So&mdash;with farewells<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tenderly took of lieges and of lords&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Girt he for travel, with his princely kin,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span><span class="i0">Great Yudhishthira, Dharma's royal son.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Crest-gem and belt and ornaments he stripped<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From off his body, and, for broidered robe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A rough dress donned, woven of jungle-bark;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what he did&mdash;O Lord of men!&mdash;so did<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Arjuna, Bh&iacute;ma, and the twin-born pair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nakula with Sahadev, and she&mdash;in grace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The peerless&mdash;Draupad&iacute;. Lastly these six,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou son of Bh&acirc;rata! in solemn form<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made the high sacrifice of Naishtiki,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quenching their flames in water at the close;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so set forth, 'midst wailing of all folk<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tears of women, weeping most to see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Princess Draupad&iacute;&mdash;that lovely prize<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the great gaming, Draupad&iacute; the Bright&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Journeying afoot; but she and all the Five<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rejoiced, because their way lay heavenwards.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Seven were they, setting forth,&mdash;princess and king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The king's four brothers, and a faithful dog.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those left Hastinapur; but many a man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the palace household, followed them<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first sad stage; and, ofttimes prayed to part,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span><span class="i0">Put parting off for love and pity, still<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sighing 'A little farther!'&mdash;till day waned;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then one by one they turned, and Kripa said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Let all turn back, Yuyutsu! These must go.'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So came they homewards, but the Snake-King's child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ul&ugrave;pi, leapt in Ganges, losing them;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Chitran&acirc;gad with her people went<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mournful to Munipoor, whilst the three queens<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brought Parikshita in.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">"Thus wended they,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pandu's five sons and loveliest Draupad&iacute;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tasting no meat, and journeying due east;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On righteousness their high hearts bent, to heaven<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their souls assigned; and steadfast trode their feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By faith upborne, past nullah, ran, and wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">River and jheel and plain. King Yudhishthir<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Walked foremost, Bh&iacute;ma followed, after him<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Arjuna, and the twin-born brethren next,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nakula with Sahadev; in whose still steps&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Best of Bh&acirc;rat's offspring!&mdash;Draupad&iacute;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That gem of women, paced; with soft, dark face,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beautiful, wonderful!&mdash;and lustrous eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span><span class="i0">Clear-lined like lotus-petals; last the dog,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Following the Pandavas.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">"At length they reach<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The far Lauchityan Sea, which foameth white<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Under Udayach&acirc;la's ridge.&mdash;Know ye<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That all this while Nakula had not ceased<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bearing the holy bow, named Gandiva,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And jewelled quiver, ever filled with shafts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though one should shoot a thousand thousand times.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here&mdash;broad across their path&mdash;the heroes see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Agni, the god. As though a mighty hill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Took form of front and breast and limb, he spake.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seven streams of shining splendour rayed his brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the dread voice said: 'I am Agni, chiefs!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O sons of Pandu, I am Agni! Hail!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O long-armed Yudhishthira, blameless king,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O warlike Bh&iacute;ma,&mdash;O Arjuna, wise,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O brothers twin-born from a womb divine,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hear! I am Agni, who consumed the wood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By will of Narayan for Arjuna's sake.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let this your brother give Gandiva back&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The matchless bow: the use for it is o'er.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span><span class="i0">That gem-ringed battle-discus which he whirled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cometh again to Krishna in his hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For avatars to be; and need is none<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Henceforth of this most excellent bright bow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gandiva, which I brought for Partha's aid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From high Varuna. Let it be returned.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cast it herein!'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">"And all the princes said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Cast it, dear brother!' So Arjuna threw<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into that sea the quiver ever-filled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And glittering bow. Then led by Agni's light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto the south they turned, and so south-west,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And afterwards right west, until they saw<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dwaraka, washed and bounded by a main<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loud-thundering on its shores; and here&mdash;O Best!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vanished the God; while yet those heroes walked,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now to the north-west bending, where long coasts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shut in the sea of salt, now to the north,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Accomplishing all quarters, journeyed they;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The earth their altar of high sacrifice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which these most patient feet did pace around<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till Meru rose.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">"At last it rose! These Six,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their senses subjugate, their spirits pure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wending alone, came into sight&mdash;far off<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the eastern sky&mdash;of awful Himavan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, midway in the peaks of Himavan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meru, the Mountain of all mountains, rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose head is Heaven; and under Himavan<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glared a wide waste of sand, dreadful as death.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Then, as they hastened o'er the deadly waste,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aiming for Meru, having thoughts at soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Infinite, eager,&mdash;lo! Draupad&iacute; reeled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With faltering heart and feet; and Bh&iacute;ma turned<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gazing upon her; and that hero spake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Yudhishthira: 'Master, Brother, King<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why doth she fail? For never all her life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wrought our sweet lady one thing wrong, I think.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou knowest, make us know, why hath she failed?'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Then Yudhishthira answered: 'Yea, one thing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She loved our brother better than all else,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Better than heaven: that was her tender sin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fault of a faultless soul; she pays for that'<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span><span class="i0">'So spake the monarch, turning not his eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though Draupad&iacute; lay dead&mdash;striding straight on<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Meru, heart-full of the things of heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perfect and firm. But yet a little space,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Sahadev fell down, which Bh&iacute;ma seeing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cried once again: 'O King, great Madri's son<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stumbles and sinks. Why hath he sunk?&mdash;so true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So brave and steadfast, and so free from pride!'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'He was not free,' with countenance still fixed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth Yudhishthira; 'he was true and fast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wise, yet wisdom made him proud; he hid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One little hurt of soul, but now it kills.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"So saying, he strode on&mdash;Kunti's strong son&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Bh&iacute;ma, and Arjuna followed him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Nakula, and the hound; leaving behind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sahadev in the sands. But Nakula,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weakened and grieved to see Sahadev fall&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His loved twin-brother&mdash;lagged and stayed; and next<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Prone on his face he fell, that noble face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which had no match for beauty in the land,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glorious and godlike Nakula! Then sighed<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span><span class="i0">Bh&iacute;ma anew: 'Brother and Lord! the man<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who never erred from virtue, never broke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our fellowship, and never in the world<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was matched for goodly perfectness of form<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or gracious feature,&mdash;Nakula has fallen!'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But Yudhishthira, holding fixed his eyes,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That changeless, faithful, all-wise king,&mdash;replied:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Yea, but he erred. The godlike form he wore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beguiled him to believe none like to him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he alone desirable, and things<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unlovely to be slighted. Self-love slays<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our noble brother. Bh&iacute;ma, follow! Each<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pays what his debt was.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">"Which Arjuna heard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weeping to see them fall; and that stout son<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Pandu, that destroyer of his foes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That prince, who drove through crimson waves of war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In old days, with his chariot-steeds of milk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He, the arch-hero, sank! Beholding this,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The yielding of that soul unconquerable,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fearless, divine, from S&aacute;kra's self derived,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span><span class="i0">Arjuna's,&mdash;Bh&iacute;ma cried aloud: 'O king!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This man was surely perfect. Never once,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not even in slumber when the lips are loosed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spake he one word that was not true as truth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, heart of gold, why art thou broke? O King!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whence falleth he?'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">"And Yudhishthira said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not pausing: 'Once he lied, a lordly lie!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He bragged&mdash;our brother&mdash;that a single day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should see him utterly consume, alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All those his enemies,&mdash;which could not be.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet from a great heart sprang the unmeasured speech.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Howbeit, a finished hero should not shame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Himself in such wise, nor his enemy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If he will faultless fight and blameless die:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This was Arjuna's sin. Follow thou me!'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"So the king still went on. But Bh&iacute;ma next<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fainted, and stayed upon the way, and sank;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet, sinking cried, behind the steadfast prince:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Ah, brother, see! I die! Look upon me,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span><span class="i0">Thy well-beloved! Wherefore falter I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who strove to stand?'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">"And Yudhishthira said:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'More than was well the goodly things of earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pleased thee, my pleasant brother! Light the offence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And large thy virtue; but the o'er-fed flesh<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Plumed itself over spirit. Pritha's son,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For this thou failest, who so near didst gain.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Thenceforth alone the long-armed monarch strode,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not looking back,&mdash;nay! not for Bh&iacute;ma's sake,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But walking with his face set for the Mount:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the hound followed him,&mdash;only the hound.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"After the deathly sands, the Mount! and lo!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">S&aacute;kra shone forth,&mdash;the God, filling the earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And heavens with thunder of his chariot-wheels.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Ascend,' he said, 'with me, Pritha's great son!'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Yudhishthira answered, sore at heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For those his kinsfolk, fallen on the way:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'O Thousand-eyed, O Lord of all the Gods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Give that my brothers come with me, who fell!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span><span class="i0">Not without them is Swarga sweet to me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She too, the dear and kind and queenly,&mdash;she<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose perfect virtue Paradise must crown,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grant her to come with us! Dost thou grant this?'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The God replied: 'In heaven thou shalt see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy kinsmen and the queen&mdash;these will attain&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Krishna. Grieve no longer for thy dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou chief of men! their mortal covering stripped,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They have their places; but to thee the gods<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Allot an unknown grace: thou shalt go up<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Living and in thy form to the immortal homes.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But the king answered: 'O thou Wisest One,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who know'st what was, and is, and is to be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still one more grace! This hound hath ate with me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Followed me, loved me: must I leave him now?'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Monarch,' spake Indra, 'thou art now as We,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deathless, divine; thou art become a god;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glory and power and gifts celestial,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the joys of heaven are thine for aye:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What hath a beast with these? Leave here thy hound.'<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Yet Yudhishthira answered: 'O Most High,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Thousand-eyed and Wisest! can it be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That one exalted should seem pitiless?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay, let me lose such glory: for its sake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I would not leave one living thing I loved.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Then sternly Indra spake: 'He is unclean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And into Swarga such shall enter not.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Krodhavasha's hand destroys the fruits<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of sacrifice, if dogs defile the fire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bethink thee, Dharmaraj, quit now this beast!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That which is seemly is not hard of heart.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Still he replied: ''Tis written that to spurn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A suppliant equals in offence to slay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A twice-born; wherefore, not for Swarga's bliss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quit I, Mahendra, this poor clinging dog,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So without any hope or friend save me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So wistful, fawning for my faithfulness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So agonized to die, unless I help<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who among men was called steadfast and just.'<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Quoth Indra: 'Nay! the altar-flame is foul<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where a dog passeth; angry angels sweep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ascending smoke aside, and all the fruits<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of offering, and the merit of the prayer<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of him whom a hound toucheth. Leave it here!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He that will enter heaven must enter pure.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why didst thou quit thy brethren on the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quit Krishna, quit the dear-loved Draupad&iacute;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Attaining, firm and glorious, to this Mount<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through perfect deeds, to linger for a brute?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath Yudhishthira vanquished self, to melt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With one poor passion at the door of bliss?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stay'st thou for this, who didst not stay for them,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Draupad&iacute;, Bh&iacute;ma?'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">"But the king yet spake:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">''Tis known that none can hurt or help the dead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They, the delightful ones, who sank and died,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Following my footsteps, could not live again<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though I had turned,&mdash;therefore I did not turn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But could help profit, I had turned to help.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There be four sins, O S&aacute;kra, grievous sins:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first is making suppliants despair,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span><span class="i0">The second is to slay a nursing wife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The third is spoiling Brahmans' goods by force,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fourth is injuring an ancient friend.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These four I deem not direr than the sin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If one, in coming forth from woe to weal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Abandon any meanest comrade then.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Straight as he spake, brightly great Indra smiled;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vanished the hound;&mdash;and in its stead stood there<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Lord of Death and Justice, Dharma's self!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet were the words which fell from those dread lips,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Precious the lovely praise: 'O thou true king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou that dost bring to harvest the good seed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Pandu's righteousness; thou that hast ruth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As he before, on all which lives!&mdash;O Son,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I tried thee in the Dwaita wood, what time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Yaksha smote them, bringing water; then<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou prayedst for Nakula's life&mdash;tender and just&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not Bh&iacute;ma's nor Arjuna's, true to both,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Madr&icirc; as to Kunt&icirc;, to both queens.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hear thou my word! Because thou didst not mount<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This car divine, lest the poor hound be shent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who looked to thee, lo! there is none in heaven<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span><span class="i0">Shall sit above thee, King!&mdash;Bh&acirc;rata's son,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enter thou now to the eternal joys,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Living and in thy form. Justice and Love<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Welcome thee, Monarch! thou shalt throne with us!'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Thereat those mightiest Gods, in glorious train,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mahendra, Dharma,&mdash;with bright retinue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Maruts, Saints, Aswin-Kum&atilde;ras, Nats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spirits and Angels,&mdash;bore the king aloft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The thundering chariot first, and after it<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those airy-moving Presences. Serene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clad in great glory, potent, wonderful,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They glide at will,&mdash;at will they know and see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At wish their wills are wrought; for these are pure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Passionless, hallowed, perfect, free of earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In such celestial midst the Pandu king<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soared upward; and a sweet light filled the sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fell on earth, cast by his face and form,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Transfigured as he rose; and there was heard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The voice of Narad,&mdash;it is he who sings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sitting in heaven, the deeds that good men do<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In all the quarters,&mdash;Narad, chief of bards,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span><span class="i0">Narad the wise, who laudeth purity,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So cried he: 'Thou art risen, unmatched king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose greatness is above all royal saints.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hail, son of Pandu! like to thee is none<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now or before among the sons of men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose fame hath filled the three wide worlds, who com'st<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bearing thy mortal body, which doth shine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With radiance as a god's.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">"The glad king heard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Narad's loud praise; he saw the immortal gods,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dharma, Mahendra; and dead chiefs and saints,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Known upon earth, in blessed heaven he saw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But only those. 'I do desire,' he said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'That region, be it of the Blest as this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or of the Sorrowful some otherwhere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where my dear brothers are, and Draupad&iacute;.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I cannot stay elsewhere! I see them not!'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Then answer made Purandar&aacute;, the God:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'O thou compassionate and noblest One,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rest in the pleasures which thy deeds have gained.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span><span class="i0">How, being as are the Gods, canst thou live bound<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By mortal chains? Thou art become of Us,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who live above hatred and love, in bliss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pinnacled, safe, supreme. Sun of thy race.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy brothers cannot reach where thou hast climbed:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Most glorious lord of men, let not thy peace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be touched by stir of earth! Look! this is Heaven.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See where the saints sit, and the happy souls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Siddhas and angels, and the gods who live<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ever and for ever.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">"'King of gods,'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spake Yudhishthira, 'but I will not live<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A little space without those souls I loved.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Slayer of the demons! let me go<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Bh&iacute;ma and my brothers are, and she,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My Draupad&iacute;, the princess with the face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Softer and darker than the Vrihat-leaf,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And soul as sweet as are its odours. Lo!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where they have gone, there will I surely go,'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_ILIAD_OF_INDIA" id="THE_ILIAD_OF_INDIA"></a><i>THE ILIAD OF INDIA.</i></h2>
+
+<h4>THE SWARGAROHANA PARVA OF THE MAH�BHARATA;<br />
+  OR, "THE ENTRY INTO
+HEAVEN."</h4>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i0"><i>To Narayen, Lord of lords, be glory given</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Queen Saraswati be praise in heaven;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto Vy&acirc;sa pay the reverence due,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>So may this story its high course pursue.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then Janmejaya said: "I am fain to learn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How it befell with my great forefathers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Pandu chiefs and Dhritarashtra's sons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Being to heaven ascended. If thou know'st,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thou know'st all, whom wise Vy&acirc;sa taught&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell me, how fared it with those mighty souls?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Answered the Sage: "Hear of thy forefathers&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great Yudhishthira and the Pandu lords&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span><span class="i0">How it befell. When thus the blameless king<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was entered into heaven, there he beheld<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Duryodhana, his foe, throned as a god<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amid the gods; splendidly sate that prince,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Peaceful and proud, the radiance of his brows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far-shining like the sun's; and round him thronged<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spirits of light, with S&aacute;dhyas,&mdash;companies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Goodly to see. But when the king beheld<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Duryodhana in bliss, and not his own,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not Draupad&iacute;, nor Bh&iacute;ma, nor the rest,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With quick-averted face and angry eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The monarch spake: 'Keep heaven for such as these<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If these come here! I do not wish to dwell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where he is, whom I hated rightfully,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Being a covetous and witless prince,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose deed it was that in wild fields of war<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brothers and friends by mutual slaughter fell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While our swords smote, sharpened so wrathfully<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By all those wrongs borne wandering in the woods:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Draupad&iacute;'s the deepest wrong, for he&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He who sits there&mdash;haled her before the court,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seizing that sweet and virtuous lady&mdash;he!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With grievous hand wound in her tresses. Gods,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span><span class="i0">I cannot look upon him! Sith 'tis so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where are my brothers? Thither will I go!'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Smiling, bright Narada, the Sage, replied:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Speak thou not rashly! Say not this, O King!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those who come here lay enmities aside.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Yudhishthira, long-armed monarch, hear!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Duryodhana is cleansed of sin; he sits<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Worshipful as the saints, worshipped by saints<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And kings who lived and died in virtue's path,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Attaining to the joys which heroes gain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who yield their breath in battle. Even so<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He that did wrong thee, knowing not thy worth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath won before thee hither, raised to bliss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For lordliness, and valour free of fear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, well-beloved Prince! ponder thou not<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The memory of that gaming, nor the griefs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Draupad&iacute;, nor any vanished hurt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wrought in the passing shows of life by craft<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or wasteful war. Throne happy at the side<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of this thy happy foeman,&mdash;wiser now;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For here is Paradise, thou chief of men!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in its holy air hatreds are dead.'<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Thus by such lips addressed the Pandu king<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Answered uncomforted: 'Duryodhana,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If he attains, attains; yet not the less<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Evil he lived and ill he died,&mdash;a heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Impious and harmful, bringing woes to all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To friends and foes. His was the crime which cost<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our land its warriors, horses, elephants;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His the black sin that set us in the field,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Burning for rightful vengeance. Ye are gods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And just; and ye have granted heaven to him.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Show me the regions, therefore, where they dwell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My brothers, those, the noble-souled, the loyal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who kept the sacred laws, who swerved no step<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From virtue's path, who spake the truth, and lived<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Foremost of warriors. Where is Kunti's son,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hero-hearted Karna? Where are gone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">S&aacute;tyaki, Dhrishtadyumna, with their sons?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where those famous chiefs who fought for me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dying a splendid death? I see them not.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Narada, I see them not! No King<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Draupada! no Vir&aacute;ta! no glad face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Dhrisktaketu! no Shikandina,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Prince of Panch&aacute;la, nor his princely boys!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span><span class="i0">Nor Abhimanyu the unconquerable!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">President Gods of heaven! I see not here<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Radha's bright son, nor Yudhamanyu,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor Uttamanjaso, his brother dear!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where are those noble Maharashtra lords,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rajahs and rajpoots, slain for love of me?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dwell they in glory elsewhere, not yet seen?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If they be here, high Gods! and those with them<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For whose sweet sakes I lived, here will I live,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meek-hearted; but if such be not adjudged<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Worthy, I am not worthy, nor my soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Willing to rest without them. Ah, I burn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now in glad heaven, with grief, bethinking me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of those my mother's words, what time I poured<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Death-water for my dead at Kurkshetra,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Pour for Prince Karna, Son!" but I wist not<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His feet were as my mother's feet, his blood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her blood, my blood. O Gods! I did not know,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Albeit S&aacute;kra's self had failed to break<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our battle, where <i>he</i> stood. I crave to see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Surya's child, that glorious chief who fell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By Saryas&aacute;chi's hand, unknown of me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Bh&iacute;ma! ah, my Bh&iacute;ma! dearer far<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span><span class="i0">Than life to me; Arjuna, like a god,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nakla and Sahadev, twin lords of war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With tenderest Draupad&iacute;! Show me those souls!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I cannot tarry where I have them not.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bliss is not blissful, just and mighty Ones!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save if I rest beside them. Heaven is there<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Love and Faith make heaven. Let me go!'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"And answer made the hearkening heavenly Ones:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Go, if it seemeth good to thee, dear Son!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The King of gods commands we do thy will.'"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So saying [the Bard went on] Dharma's own voice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gave ordinance, and from the shining bands<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A golden Deva glided, taking hest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To guide the king there where his kinsmen were.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So wended these, the holy angel first,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in his steps the king, close following.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Together passed they through the gates of pearl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Together heard them close; then to the left<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Descending, by a path evil and dark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hard to be traversed, rugged, entered they<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The '<span class="smcap">Sinners' Road</span>.' The tread of sinful feet<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span><span class="i0">Matted the thick thorns carpeting its slope;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The smell of sin hung foul on them; the mire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About their roots was trampled filth of flesh<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Horrid with rottenness, and splashed with gore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Curdling in crimson puddles; where there buzzed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sucked and settled creatures of the swamp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hideous in wing and sting, gnat-clouds and flies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With moths, toads, newts, and snakes red-gulleted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And livid, loathsome worms, writhing in slime<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forth from skull-holes and scalps and tumbled bones.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A burning forest shut the roadside in<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On either hand, and 'mid its crackling boughs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perched ghastly birds, or flapped amongst the flames,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vultures and kites and crows,&mdash;with brazen plumes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And beaks of iron; and these grisly fowl<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Screamed to the shrieks of Prets, lean, famished ghosts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Featureless, eyeless, having pin-point mouths,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hungering, but hard to fill,&mdash;all swooping down<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To gorge upon the meat of wicked ones;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whereof the limbs disparted, trunks and heads,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Offal and marrow, littered all the way.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By such a path the king passed, sore afeared<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If he had known of fear, for the air stank<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span><span class="i0">With carrion stench, sickly to breathe; and lo!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Presently 'thwart the pathway foamed a flood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of boiling waves, rolling down corpses. This<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They crossed, and then the Asipatra wood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spread black in sight, whereof the undergrowth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was sword-blades, spitting, every blade, some wretch;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All around poison trees; and next to this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strewn deep with fiery sands, an awful waste,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherethrough the wicked toiled with blistering feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Midst rocks of brass, red hot, which scorched, and pools<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of bubbling pitch that gulfed them. Last the gorge<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Kutash&aacute;la Mali,&mdash;frightful gate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of utmost Hell, with utmost horrors filled.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deadly and nameless were the plagues seen there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which when the monarch reached, nigh overborne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By terrors and the reek of tortured flesh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto the angel spake he: 'Whither goes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This hateful road, and where be they I seek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet find not?' Answer made the heavenly One:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Hither, great King, it was commanded me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To bring thy steps. If thou be'st overborne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is commanded that I lead thee back<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To where the Gods wait. Wilt thou turn and mount?'<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Then (O thou Son of Bh&aacute;rat!) Yudhishthir<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Turned heavenward his face, so was he moved<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With horror and the hanging stench, and spent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By toil of that black travel. But his feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Scarce one stride measured, when about the place<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pitiful accents rang: 'Alas, sweet King!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, saintly Lord!&mdash;Ah, Thou that hast attained<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Place with the Blessed, Pandu's offspring!&mdash;pause<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A little while, for love of us who cry!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nought can harm <i>thee</i> in all this baneful place;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But at thy coming there 'gan blow a breeze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Balmy and soothing, bringing us relief.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Pritha's son, mightiest of men! we breathe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glad breath again to see thee; we have peace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One moment in our agonies. Stay here<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One moment more, Bh&aacute;rata's child! Go not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou Victor of the Kurus! Being here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hell softens and our bitter pains relax.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"These pleadings, wailing all around the place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heard the King Yudhishthira,&mdash;words of woe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Humble and eager; and compassion seized<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His lordly mind. 'Poor souls unknown!' he sighed,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span><span class="i0">And hellwards turned anew; for what those were.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whence such beseeching voices, and of whom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That son of Pandu wist not,&mdash;only wist<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That all the noxious murk was filled with forms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shadowy, in anguish, crying grace of him.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherefore he called aloud,'Who speaks with me?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What do ye here, and what things suffer ye?'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then from the black depth piteously there came<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Answers of whispered suffering: 'Karna I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O King!' and yet another,'O my Liege,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy Bh&iacute;ma speaks!' and then a voice again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'I am Arjuna, Brother!' and again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Nakla is here and Sahadev!' and last<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A moan of music from the darkness sighed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Draupad&iacute; cries to thee!' Thereat broke forth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The monarch's spirit,&mdash;knowing so the sound<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of each familiar voice,&mdash;'What doom is this?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What have my well-beloved wrought to earn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Death with the damned, or life loathlier than death<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Narak's midst? Hath Karna erred so deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bh&iacute;ma, Arjuna, or the glorious twins,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or she, the slender-waisted, sweetest, best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My princess,&mdash;that Duryodhana should sit<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span><span class="i0">Peaceful in Paradise with all his crew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Throned by Mahendra and the shining gods?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How should these fail of bliss, and he attain?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What were their sins to his, their splendid faults?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For if they slipped, it was in virtue's way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Serving good laws, performing holy rites,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Boundless in gifts and faithful to the death.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These be their well-known voices! Are ye here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Souls I loved best? Dream I, belike, asleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or rave I, maddened with accursed sights<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And death-reeks of this hellish air?'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i14">"Thereat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For pity and for pain the king waxed wroth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That soul fear could not shake, nor trials tire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Burned terrible with tenderness, the while<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His eyes searched all the gloom, his planted feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stood fast in the mid horrors. Well-nigh, then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He cursed the gods; well-nigh that steadfast mind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Broke from its faith in virtue. But he stayed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th' indignant passion, softly speaking this<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto the angel: 'Go to those thou serv'st;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell them I come not thither. Say I stand<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span><span class="i0">Here in the throat of hell, and here will bide&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay, if I perish&mdash;while my well-belov'd<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Win ease and peace by any pains of mine.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Whereupon, nought replied the shining One,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But straight repaired unto the upper light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where S&aacute;kra sate above the gods, and spake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before the gods the message of the king."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Afterward what befell?" the prince inquired.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Afterward, Princely One!" replied the Sage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"At hearing and at knowing that high deed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Great Yudhishthira braving hell for love),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Presences of Paradise uprose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each Splendour in his place,&mdash;god S&aacute;kra chief;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Together rose they, and together stepped<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down from their thrones, treading the nether road<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Yudhishthira tarried. S&aacute;kra led<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shining van, and Dharma, Lord of laws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Paced glorious next. O Son of Bh&aacute;rata,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span><span class="i0">While that celestial company came down&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pure as the white stars sweeping through the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And brighter than their brilliance&mdash;look! Hell's shades<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Melted before them; warm gleams drowned the gloom;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soft, lovely scenes rolled over the ill sights;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Peace calmed the cries of torment; in its bed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The boiling river shrank, quiet and clear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Asipatra Vana&mdash;awful wood&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blossomed with colours; all those cruel blades,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dreadful rocks, and piteous scattered wreck<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of writhing bodies, where the king had passed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vanished as dreams fade. Cool and fragrant went<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A wind before their faces, as these Gods<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drew radiant to the presence of the king,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Maruts; and Vasus eight, who shine and serve<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Round Indra; Rudras; Aswins; and those Six<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Immortal Lords of light beyond our light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th' Adityas; Saddhyas; Siddhas,&mdash;those were there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With angels, saints, and habitants of heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smiling resplendent round the steadfast prince.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Then spake the God of gods these gracious words<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Yudhishthira, standing in that place:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span><span class="i0">"'King Yudhishthira! O thou long-armed Lord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is enough! All heaven is glad of thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is enough! Come, thou most blessed one.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto thy peace, well-gained. Lay now aside<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy loving wrath, and hear the speech of Heaven.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is appointed that all kings see hell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The reckonings for the life of men are twain:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of each man's righteous deeds a tally true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A tally true of each man's evil deeds.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who hath wrought little right, to him is paid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A little bliss in Swarga, then the woe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which purges; who much right hath wrought, from him<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The little ill by lighter pains is cleansed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then the joys. Sweet is peace after pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bitter pain which follows peace; yet they,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who sorely sin, taste of the heaven they miss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they that suffer quit their debt at last.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lo! We have loved thee, laying hard on thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grievous assaults of soul, and this black road.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bethink thee: by a semblance once, dear Son!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drona thou didst beguile; and once, dear Son!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Semblance of hell hath so thy sin assoiled,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span><span class="i0">"Which passeth with these shadows. Even thus<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy Bh&iacute;ma came a little space t' account,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Draupad&iacute;, Krishna,&mdash;all whom thou didst love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Never again to lose! Come, First of Men!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These be delivered and their quittance made.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Also the princes, son of Bh&aacute;rata!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who fell beside thee fighting, have attained.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come thou to see! Karna, whom thou didst mourn,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That mightiest archer, master in all wars,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hath attained, shining as doth the sun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come thou and see! Grieve no more, King of Men!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose love helped them and thee, and hath its meed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rajas and maharajahs, warriors, aids,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All thine are thine for ever. Krishna waits<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To greet thee coming, 'companied by gods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seated in heaven, from toils and conflicts saved.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Son! there is golden fruit of noble deeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of prayer, alms, sacrifice. The most just Gods<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Keep thee thy place above the highest saints,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where thou shalt sit, divine, compassed about<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With royal souls in bliss, as Hari sits;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seeing M&aacute;ndh&aacute;ta crowned, and Bhagirath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Daushyanti, Bh&aacute;rata, with all thy line.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span><span class="i0">Now therefore wash thee in this holy stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gunga's pure fount, whereof the bright waves bless<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the Three Worlds. It will so change thy flesh<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To likeness of th' immortal, thou shalt leave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Passions and aches and tears behind thee there.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"And when the awful S&aacute;kra thus had said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lo! Dharma spake,&mdash;th' embodied Lord of Right:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Bho! bho! I am well pleased! Hail to thee, Chief!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Worthy, and wise, and firm. Thy faith is full,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy virtue, and thy patience, and thy truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thy self-mastery. Thrice I put thee, King!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto the trial. In the Dwaita wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The day of sacrifice,&mdash;then thou stood'st fast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Next, on thy brethren's death and Draupad&iacute;'s,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When, as a dog, I followed thee, and found<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy spirit constant to the meanest friend.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here was the third and sorest touchstone, Son!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That thou shouldst hear thy brothers cry in hell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet abide to help them. Pritha's child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We love thee! Thou art fortunate and pure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Past trials now. Thou art approved, and they<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span><span class="i0">Thou lov'st have tasted hell only a space,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not meriting to suffer more than when<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An evil dream doth come, and Indra's beam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ends it with radiance&mdash;as this vision ends.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is appointed that all flesh see death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And therefore thou hast borne the passing pangs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Briefest for thee, and brief for those of thine,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bh&iacute;ma the faithful, and the valiant twins<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nakla and Sahadev, and those great hearts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Karna, Arjuna, with thy princess dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Draupad&iacute;. Come, thou best-belov&egrave;d Son,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blessed of all thy line! Bathe in this stream,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is great Gunga, flowing through Three Worlds.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Thus high-accosted, the rejoicing king<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Thy ancestor, O Liege!) proceeded straight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto that river's brink, which floweth pure<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through the Three Worlds, mighty, and sweet, and praised.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There, being bathed, the body of the king<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Put off its mortal, coming up arrayed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In grace celestial, washed from soils of sin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From passion, pain, and change. So, hand in hand<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span><span class="i0">With brother-gods, glorious went Yudhishthir,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lauded by softest minstrelsy, and songs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of unknown music, where those heroes stood&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The princes of the Pandavas, his kin&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lotus-eyed and lovliest Draupad&iacute;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Waiting to greet him, gladdening and glad."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FROM_THE_SAUPTIKA_PARVA_OF_THE_MAHABHARATA" id="FROM_THE_SAUPTIKA_PARVA_OF_THE_MAHABHARATA"></a><i>FROM THE "SAUPTIKA PARVA"<br />
+ OF THE MAH&Aacute;BH&Aacute;RATA,</i></h2>
+
+<h5>OR</h5>
+<h4><i>"NIGHT OF SLAUGHTER."</i></h4>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i0"><i>To Narayen, Best of Lords, be glory given</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To great Saraswati, the Queen in Heaven;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto Vy&aacute;sa, too, be paid his meed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>So shall this story worthily proceed.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Those vanquished warriors then," Sanjaya said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Fled southwards; and, near sunset, past the tents,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unyoked; abiding close in fear and rage.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There was a wood beyond the camp,&mdash;untrod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quiet,&mdash;and in its leafy harbour lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Princes, some among them bleeding still<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From spear and arrow-gashes; all sore-spent,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span><span class="i0">Fetching faint breath, and fighting o'er again<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In thought that battle. But there came the noise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Pandavas pursuing,&mdash;fierce and loud<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Outcries of victory&mdash;whereat those chiefs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sullenly rose, and yoked their steeds again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Driving due east; and eastward still they drave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Under the night, till drouth and desperate toil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stayed horse and man; then took they lair again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The panting horses, and the Warriors, wroth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With chilled wounds, and the death-stroke of their King.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Now were they come, my Prince," Sanjaya said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Unto a jungle thick with stems, whereon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tangled creepers coiled; here entered they&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Watering their horses at a stream&mdash;and pushed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deep in the thicket. Many a beast and bird<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sprang startled at their feet; the long grass stirred<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With serpents creeping off; the woodland flowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shook where the pea-fowl hid, and, where frogs plunged,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The swamp rocked all its reeds and lotus-buds.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A banian-tree, with countless dropping boughs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Earth-rooted, spied they, and beneath its aisles<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span><span class="i0">A pool; hereby they stayed, tethering their steeds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dipping water, made the evening prayer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"But when the 'Day-maker' sank in the west<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Night descended&mdash;gentle, soothing Night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who comforts all, with silver splendour decked<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of stars and constellations, and soft folds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of velvet darkness drawn&mdash;then those wild things<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which roam in darkness woke, wandering afoot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Under the gloom. Horrid the forest grew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With roar, and yelp, and yell, around that place<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Kripa, Kritavarman, and the son<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Drona lay, beneath the banian-tree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full many a piteous passage instancing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In their lost battle-day of dreadful blood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till sleep fell heavy on the wearied lids<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Bhoja's child and Kripa. Then these Lords&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To princely life and silken couches used&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sought on the bare earth slumber, spent and sad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As houseless outcasts lodge.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">"But, Oh, my King!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There came no sleep to Drona's angry son,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span><span class="i0">Great Aswatth&acirc;man. As a snake lies coiled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hisses, breathing, so his panting breath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hissed rage and hatred round him, while he lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chin uppermost, arm-pillowed, with fierce eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Roving the wood, and seeing sightlessly.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus chanced it that his wandering glances turned<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the fig-tree's shadows, where there perched<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thousand crows, thick-roosting, on its limbs;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some nested, some on branchlets, deep asleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heads under wings&mdash;all fearless; nor, O Prince!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had Aswatth&acirc;man more than marked the birds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When, lo! there fell out of the velvet night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Silent and terrible, an eagle-owl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With wide, soft, deadly, dusky wings, and eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flame-coloured, and long claws, and dreadful beak;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a winged sprite, or great Garood himself;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Offspring of Bh&acirc;rata! it lighted there<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the banian's bough; hooted, but low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fury smothering in its throat;&mdash;then fell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With murderous beak and claws upon those crows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rending the wings from this, the legs from that,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From some the heads, of some ripping the crops;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till, tens and scores, the fowl rained down to earth<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span><span class="i0">Bloody and plucked, and all the ground waxed black<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With piled crow-carcases; whilst the great owl<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hooted for joy of vengeance, and again<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spread the wide, deadly, dusky wings.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i14">"Up sprang<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The son of Drona: 'Lo! this owl,' quoth he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Teacheth me wisdom; lo! one slayeth so<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Insolent foes asleep. The Pandu Lords<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are all too strong in arms by day to kill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They triumph, being many. Yet I swore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before the King, my Father, I would "kill"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And "kill"&mdash;even as a foolish fly should swear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To quench a flame. It scorched, and I shall die<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If I dare open battle; but by art<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Men vanquish fortune and the mightiest odds.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If there be two ways to a wise man's wish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet only one way sure, he taketh this;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if it be an evil way, condemned<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Brahmans, yet the Kshattriya may do<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What vengeance bids against his foes. Our foes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Pandavas, are furious, treacherous, base,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Halting at nothing; and how say the wise<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span><span class="i0">In holy Shastras?&mdash;"Wounded, wearied, fed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or fasting; sleeping, waking, setting forth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or new arriving; slay thine enemies;"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so again, "At midnight when they sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dawn when they watch not; noon if leaders fall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eve, should they scatter; all the times and hours<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are times and hours fitted for killing foes."'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"So did the son of Drona steel his soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To break upon the sleeping Pandu chiefs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And slay them in the darkness. Being set<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On this unlordly deed, and clear in scheme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He from their slumbers roused the warriors twain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kripa and Kritavarman."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_MORNING_PRAYER" id="THE_MORNING_PRAYER"></a><i>THE MORNING PRAYER.</i></h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our Lord the Prophet (peace to him!) doth write&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">S&uacute;rah the Seventeenth, intituled "Night"&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Pray at the noon; pray at the sinking sun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In night-time pray; but most when night is done;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For daybreak's prayer is surely borne on high<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By angels, changing guard within the sky;"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in another place:&mdash;"Dawn's prayer is more<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than the wide world, with all its treasured store."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Therefore the Faithful, when the growing light<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gives to discern a black hair from a white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Haste to the mosque, and, bending Mecca-way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Recite <i>Al-F&acirc;tihah</i> while 'tis scarce yet day:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"<i>Praise be to Allah&mdash;Lord of all that live:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Merciful King and Judge! To Thee we give<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Worship and honour! Succour us, and guide</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Where those have walked who rest Thy throne beside:</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The way of Peace; the way of truthful speech;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>The way of Righteousness. So we beseech.</i>"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He that saith this, before the East is red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A hundred prayers of Azan hath he said.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hear now a story of it&mdash;told, I ween,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For your souls' comfort by Jelal-ud-din,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the great pages of the Mesnev&icirc;;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For therein, plain and certain, shall ye see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How precious is the prayer at break of day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Allah's ears, and in his sight alway<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How sweet are reverence and gentleness<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shown to his creatures. &Agrave;li (whom I bless!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The son of Abu Talib&mdash;he surnamed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Lion of God," in many battles famed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cousin of our Lord the Prophet (grace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be his!)&mdash;uprose betimes one morn, to pace&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As he was wont&mdash;unto the mosque, wherein<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Lord (bliss live with him!) watched to begin<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Al-F&acirc;tihah</i>. Darkling was the sky, and strait<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lane between the city and mosque-gate,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span><span class="i0">By rough stones broken and deep pools of rain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there through toilfully, with steps of pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leaning upon his staff an old Jew went<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To synagogue, on pious errand bent:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For those be "People of the Book,"&mdash;and some<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are chosen of Allah's will, who have not come<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto full light of wisdom. Therefore he<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&Agrave;li&mdash;the Caliph of proud days to be&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Knowing this good old man, and why he stirred<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus early, e'er the morning mills were heard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of his nobleness and grace of soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would not thrust past, though the Jew blocked the whole<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Breadth of the lane, slow-hobbling. So they went,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That ancient first; and in soft discontent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">After him &Agrave;li&mdash;noting how the sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flared nigh, and fearing prayer might be begun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet no command upraising, no harsh cry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To stand aside;&mdash;because the dignity<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of silver hairs is much, and morning praise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was precious to the Jew, too. Thus their ways<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wended the pair; Great &Agrave;li, sad and slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Following the greybeard, while the East, a-glow,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span><span class="i0">Blazed with bright spears of gold athwart the blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the Muezzin's call came "<i>Illahu!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Allah-il-Allah!</i>"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">In the mosque, our Lord<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(On whom be peace!) stood by the Mehrab-board<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In act to bow, and <i>F&acirc;tihah</i> forth to say.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But as his lips moved, some strong hand did lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over his mouth a palm invisible,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So that no voice on the Assembly fell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"<i>Ya! Rabbi 'lalam&icirc;na</i>" thrice he tried<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To read, and thrice the sound of reading died,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stayed by this unseen touch. Thereat amazed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Lord Muhammed turned, arose, and gazed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And saw&mdash;alone of those within the shrine&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A splendid Presence, with large eyes divine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beaming, and golden pinions folded down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their speed still tokened by the fluttered gown.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">GABRIEL he knew, the spirit who doth stand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chief of the Sons of Heav'n, at God's right hand:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Gabriel! why stayest thou me?" the Prophet said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Since at this hour the <i>F&acirc;tihah</i>  should be read."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the bright Presence, smiling, pointed where<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&Agrave;li towards the outer gate drew near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the threshold shaking off his shoes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And giving "alms of entry," as men use.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Yea!" spake th' Archangel, "sacred is the sound<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of morning-praise, and worth the world's wide round,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though earth were pearl and silver; therefore I<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stayed thee, Muhammed, in the act to cry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lest &Agrave;li, tarrying in the lane, should miss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For his good deed, its blessing and its bliss."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thereat th' Archangel vanished:&mdash;and our Lord<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Read <i>F&acirc;tihah</i> forth beneath the Mehrab-board.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="PROVERBIAL_WISDOM" id="PROVERBIAL_WISDOM"></a><i>PROVERBIAL WISDOM</i></h2>
+
+<h4>FROM THE</h4>
+<h2><i>SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA</i>.</h2>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p>
+<h3>DEDICATION</h3>
+<h4>(<i>TO FIRST EDITION</i>)</h4>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i0"><i>To you, dear Wife&mdash;to whom beside so well</i>?&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">True Counsellor and tried, at every shift,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I bring my "Book of Counsels:" let it tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Largeness of love by littleness of gift;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza1">
+<span class="i0">And take this growth of foreign skies from me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(A scholar's thanks for gentle help in toil,)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose leaf, "though dark," like Milton's H&#339;mony,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"<i>Bears a bright golden flower, if not in this soil."</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="f2"><i>April 9, 1861.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p>
+<h3>PREFACE</h3>
+<h4><i>TO THE "BOOK OF GOOD COUNSELS."</i></h4>
+<p>The <i>Hitopade&#347;a</i> is a work of high antiquity and extended popularity.
+The prose is doubtless as old as our own era; but the intercalated
+verses and proverbs compose a selection from writings of an age
+extremely remote. The <i>Mah&aacute;bh&aacute;rata</i> and the textual <i>Veds</i> are of
+those quoted; to the first of which Professor M. Williams (in his
+admirable edition of the <i>Nala</i>, 1860) assigns the modest date of 350
+<span class="smcap">b.c.</span>, while he claims for the <i>Rig-Veda</i> an antiquity as high as 1300
+<span class="smcap">b.c.</span> The <i>Hitopade&#347;a</i> may thus be fairly styled "The Father of all
+Fables;" for from its numerous translations have probably come Esop
+and Pilpay, and in latter days <i>Reineke Fuchs</i>. Originally compiled in
+Sanskrit, it was rendered, by order of Nushirv&aacute;n, in the sixth century
+<span class="smcap">a.d.</span>, into Persic. From the Persic it passed, <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 850, into the
+Arabic, and thence into Hebrew and Greek. In its own land it obtained
+as wide a circulation. The Emperor Akbar, impressed with the wisdom of
+its maxims and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> ingenuity of its apologues, commended the work of
+translating it to his own Vizier, Abdul Fazel. That Minister
+accordingly put the book into a familiar style, and published it with
+explanations, under the title of the <i>Criterion of Wisdom</i>. The
+Emperor had also suggested the abridgment of the long series of
+shlokes which here and there interrupt the narrative, and the Vizier
+found this advice sound, and followed it, like the present Translator.
+To this day, in India, the <i>Hitopade&#347;a</i>, under its own or other names
+(as the <i>Anv&aacute;ri Suhaili</i>), retains the delighted attention of young
+and old, and has some representative in all the Indian vernaculars. A
+selection from the metrical Sanskrit proverbs and maxims is here
+given.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p>
+<h3><i>PROVERBIAL WISDOM</i></h3>
+<h4>FROM THE</h4>
+<h3><i>SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADE&#346;A.</i></h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8"><i>This Book of Counsel read, and you shall see</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><i>Fair speech and Sanskrit lore, and Policy.</i><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Wise men, holding wisdom highest, scorn delights, more false than fair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Daily live as if Death's fingers twined already in thy hair!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Truly, richer than all riches, better than the best of gain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wisdom is; unbought, secure&mdash;once won, none loseth her again.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Bringing dark things into daylight, solving doubts that vex the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like an open eye is Wisdom&mdash;he that hath her not is blind."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Childless art thou? dead thy children? leaving thee to want and doole?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Less thy misery than his is, who lives father to a fool."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"One wise son makes glad his father, forty fools avail him not:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One moon silvers all that darkness which the silly stars did dot."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ease and health, obeisant children, wisdom, and a fair-voiced wife&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus, great King! are counted up the five felicities of life."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"For the son the sire is honoured; though the bow-cane bendeth true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let the strained string crack in using, and what service shall it do?"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"That which will not be, will not be&mdash;and what is to be, will be:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why not drink this easy physic, antidote of misery?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Nay! but faint not, idly sighing, 'Destiny is mightiest,'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sesamum holds oil in plenty, but it yieldeth none unpressed."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ah! it is the Coward's babble, 'Fortune taketh, Fortune gave;'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fortune! rate her like a master, and she serves thee like a slave."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Two-fold is the life we live in&mdash;Fate and Will together run:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Two wheels bear life's chariot onward&mdash;Will it move on only one?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Look! the clay dries into iron, but the potter moulds the clay:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Destiny to-day is master&mdash;Man was master yesterday."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Worthy ends come not by wishing. Wouldst thou? Up, and win it, then!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the hungry lion slumbers, not a deer comes to his den."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Silly glass, in splendid settings, something of the gold may gain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in company of wise ones, fools to wisdom may attain."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Labours spent on the unworthy, of reward the labourer balk;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the parrot, teach the heron twenty words, he will not talk."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ah! a thousand thoughts of sorrow, and a hundred things of dread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the fools unheeded, enter day by day the wise man's head."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Of the day's impending dangers, Sickness, Death, and Misery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One will be; the wise man, waking, ponders which that one will be."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Good things come not out of bad things; wisely leave a longed-for ill.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nectar being mixed with poison serves no purpose but to kill."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Give to poor men, son of K&ucirc;nti&mdash;on the wealthy waste not wealth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Good are simples for the sick man, good for nought to him in health."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Be his Scripture-learning wondrous, yet the cheat will be a cheat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be her pasture ne'er so bitter, yet the cow's milk will taste sweet."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Trust not water, trust not weapons; trust not clawed nor horned things;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neither give thy soul to women, nor thy life to Sons of Kings."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Look! the Moon, the silver roamer, from whose splendour darkness flies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With his starry cohorts marching, like a crowned king, through the skies:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">All his grandeur, all his glory, vanish in the Dragon's jaw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What is written on the forehead, that will be, and nothing more."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"Counsel in danger; of it<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Unwarned, be nothing begun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">But nobody asks a Prophet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Shall the risk of a dinner be run?"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Avarice begetteth anger; blind desires from her begin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A right fruitful mother is she of a countless spawn of sin."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Be second and not first!&mdash;the share's the same<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If all go well. If not, the Head's to blame."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Passion will be Slave or Mistress: follow her, she brings to woe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lead her, 'tis the way to Fortune. Choose the path that thou wilt go."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"When the time of trouble cometh, friends may ofttimes irk us most:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the calf at milking-hour the mother's leg is tying-post."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"In good-fortune not elated, in ill-fortune not dismayed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ever eloquent in council, never in the fight affrayed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proudly emulous of honour, steadfastly on wisdom set;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These six virtues in the nature of a noble soul are met.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whoso hath them, gem and glory of the three wide worlds is he;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Happy mother she that bore him, she who nursed him on her knee."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Small things wax exceeding mighty, being cunningly combined;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Furious elephants are fastened with a rope of grass-blades twined."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Let the household hold together, though the house be ne'er so small;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strip the rice-husk from the rice-grain, and it groweth not at all."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"Sickness, anguish, bonds, and woe<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Spring from wrongs wrought long ago."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Keep wealth for want, but spend it for thy wife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wife, and wealth, and all, to guard thy life."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Death, that must come, comes nobly when we give<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our wealth, and life, and all, to make men live."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Floating on his fearless pinions, lost amid the noonday skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Even thence the Eagle's vision kens the carcass where it lies;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the hour that comes to all things comes unto the Lord of Air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he rushes, madly blinded, to die helpless in the snare."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bar thy door not to the stranger, be he friend or be he foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the tree will shade the woodman while his axe doth lay it low.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Greeting fair, and room to rest in; fire, and water from the well&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Simple gifts&mdash;are given freely in the house where good men dwell;&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Young, or bent with many winters; rich, or poor whate'er thy guest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Honour him for thine own honour&mdash;better is he than the best.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Pity them that crave thy pity: who art thou to stint thy hoard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the holy moon shines equal on the leper and the lord?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When thy gate is roughly fastened, and the asker turns away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thence he bears thy good deeds with him, and his sins on thee doth lay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the house the husband ruleth; men the Brahman "master" call;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Agni is the Twice-born's Master&mdash;but the guest is lord of all.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"He who does and thinks no wrong&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">He who suffers, being strong&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">He whose harmlessness men know&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Unto Swarga such doth go."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"In the land where no wise men are, men of little wit are lords;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the castor-oil's a tree, where no tree else its shade affords."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"Foe is friend, and friend is foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">As our actions make them so."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"That friend only is the true friend who abides when trouble comes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That man only is the brave man who can bear the battle-drums;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Words are wind; deed proveth promise: he who helps at need is kin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the leal wife is loving though the husband lose or win."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Friend and kinsman&mdash;more their meaning than the idle-hearted mind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many a friend can prove unfriendly, many a kinsman less than kind:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He who shares his comrade's portion, be he beggar, be he lord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Comes as truly, comes as duly, to the battle as the board&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stands before the king to succour, follows to the pile to sigh&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is friend, and he is kinsman; less would make the name a lie."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Stars gleam, lamps flicker, friends foretell of fate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fated sees, knows, hears them&mdash;all too late."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Absent, flatterers' tongues are daggers&mdash;present, softer than the silk;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shun them! 'tis a draught of poison hidden under harmless milk;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Shun them when they promise little! Shun them when they promise much!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For enkindled, charcoal burneth&mdash;cold, it doth defile the touch."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"In years, or moons, or half-moons three,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Or in three days&mdash;suddenly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Knaves are shent&mdash;true men go free."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Anger comes to noble natures, but leaves there no strife or storm:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Plunge a lighted torch beneath it, and the ocean grows not warm."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Noble hearts are golden vases&mdash;close the bond true metals make;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Easily the smith may weld them, harder far it is to break.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Evil hearts are earthen vessels&mdash;at a touch they crack a-twain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what craftsman's ready cunning can unite the shards again?"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Good men's friendships may be broken, yet abide they friends at heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Snap the stem of Luxmee's lotus, but its fibres will not part."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"One foot goes, and one foot stands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">When the wise man leaves his lands."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Over-love of home were weakness; wheresoe'er the hero come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stalwart arm and steadfast spirit find or make for him a home.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Little recks the awless lion where his hunting jungles lie&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he enters them be certain that a royal prey shall die."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Very feeble folk are poor folk; money lost takes wit away:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All their doings fail like runnels, wasting through the summer day."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Wealth is friends, home, father, brother&mdash;title to respect and fame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yea, and wealth is held for wisdom&mdash;that it should be so is shame."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Home is empty to the childless; hearts to those who friends deplore:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Earth unto the idle-minded; and the three worlds to the poor."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Say the sages, nine things name not: Age, domestic joys and woes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Counsel, sickness, shame, alms, penance; neither Poverty disclose.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Better for the proud of spirit, death, than life with losses told;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fire consents to be extinguished, but submits riot to be cold."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"As Age doth banish beauty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">As moonlight dies in gloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">As Slavery's menial duty<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Is Honour's certain tomb;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">As Hari's name and Hara's<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Spoken, charm sin away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">So Poverty can surely<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">A hundred virtues slay."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Half-known knowledge, present pleasure purchased with a future woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to taste the salt of service&mdash;greater griefs no man can know."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"All existence is not equal, and all living is not life;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sick men live; and he who, banished, pines for children, home, and wife;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the craven-hearted eater of another's leavings lives,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the wretched captive, waiting for the word of doom, survives;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But they bear an anguished body, and they draw a deadly breath;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And life cometh to them only on the happy day of death."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Golden gift, serene Contentment! have thou that, and all is had;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thrust thy slipper on, and think thee that the earth is leather-clad."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"All is known, digested, tested; nothing new is left to learn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the soul, serene, reliant, Hope's delusive dreams can spurn."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Hast thou never watched, awaiting till the great man's door unbarred?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Didst thou never linger parting, saying many a sad last word?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spak'st thou never word of folly, one light thing thou would'st recall?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rare and noble hath thy life been! fair thy fortune did befall!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"True Religion!&mdash;'tis not blindly prating what the gurus prate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to love, as God hath loved them, all things, be they small or great;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">And true bliss is when a sane mind doth a healthy body fill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And true knowledge is the knowing what is good and what is ill."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Poisonous though the tree of life be, two fair blossoms grow thereon:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One, the company of good men; and sweet songs of Poets, one."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Give, and it shall swell thy getting; give, and thou shalt safer keep:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pierce the tank-wall; or it yieldeth, when the water waxeth deep."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"When the miser hides his treasure in the earth, he doeth well;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he opens up a passage that his soul may sink to hell."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"He whose coins are kept for counting, not to barter nor to give,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Breathe he like a blacksmith's bellows, yet in truth he doth not live."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Gifts, bestowed with words of kindness, making giving doubly dear:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wisdom, deep, complete, benignant, of all arrogancy clear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Valour, never yet forgetful of sweet Mercy's pleading prayer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wealth, and scorn of wealth to spend it&mdash;oh! but these be virtues rare!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Sentences of studied wisdom, nought avail they unapplied;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though the blind man hold a lantern, yet his footsteps stray aside."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Would'st thou, know whose happy dwelling Fortune entereth unknown?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His, who careless of her favour, standeth fearless in his own;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His, who for the vague to-morrow barters not the sure to-day&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Master of himself, and sternly steadfast to the rightful way:<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Very mindful of past service, valiant, faithful, true of heart&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto such comes Lakshmi smiling&mdash;comes, and will not lightly part."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Be not haughty, being wealthy; droop not, having lost thine all;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fate doth play with mortal fortunes as a girl doth toss her ball."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Worldly friendships, fair but fleeting; shadows of the clouds at noon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Women, youth, new corn, and riches; these be pleasures passing soon."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"For thy bread be not o'er thoughtful&mdash;Heav'n for all hath taken thought:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the babe is born, the sweet milk to the mother's breast is brought.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"He who gave the swan her silver, and the hawk her plumes of pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his purples to the peacock&mdash;He will verily provide."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Though for good ends, waste not on wealth a minute;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mud may be wiped, but wise men plunge not in it."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"Brunettes, and the Banyan's shadow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Well-springs, and a brick-built wall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Are all alike cool in the summer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And warm in the winter&mdash;all."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ah! the gleaming, glancing arrows of a lovely woman's eye!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Feathered with her jetty lashes, perilous they pass thee by:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loosed at venture from the black bows of her arching brow, they part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All too penetrant and deadly for an undefended heart."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Beautiful the Koil seemeth for the sweetness of his song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beautiful the world esteemeth pious souls for patience strong;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Homely features lack not favour when true wisdom they reveal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a wife is fair and honoured while her heart is firm and leal."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Friend! gracious word!&mdash;the heart to tell is ill able<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whence came to men this jewel of a syllable."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"Whoso for greater quits small gain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Shall have his labour for his pain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">The things unwon unwon remain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And what was won is lost again."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Looking down on lives below them, men of little store are great;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Looking up to higher fortunes, hard to each man seems his fate."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"As a bride, unwisely wedded, shuns the cold caress of eld,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So, from coward souls and slothful, Lakshmi's favours turn repelled."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ease, ill-health, home-keeping, sleeping, woman-service, and content&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the path that leads to greatness these be six obstructions sent."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Seeing how the soorma wasteth, seeing how the ant-hill grows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Little adding unto little&mdash;live, give, learn, as life-time, goes."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Drops of water falling, falling, falling, brim the chatty o'er;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wisdom comes in little lessons&mdash;little gains make largest store."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"Men their cunning schemes may spin&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">God knows who shall lose or  win."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Shoot a hundred shafts, the quarry lives and flies&mdash;not due to death;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When his hour is come, a grass-blade hath a point to stop his breath."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Robes were none, nor oil of unction, when the King of Beasts was crowned:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Twas his own fierce roar proclaimed him, rolling all the kingdom round."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"What but for their vassals,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Elephant and man&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Swing of golden tassels,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Wave of silken fan&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">But for regal manner<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">That the 'Chattra' brings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Horse, and foot, and banner&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">What would come of kings?"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"At the work-time, asking wages&mdash;is it like a faithful herd?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the work's done, grudging wages&mdash;is <i>that</i> acting like a lord?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Serve the Sun with sweat of body; starve thy maw to feed the flame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stead thy lord with all thy service; to thy death go, quit of blame."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Many prayers for him are uttered whereon many a life relies;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis but one poor fool the fewer when the greedy jack-daw dies."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Give thy Dog the merest mouthful, and he crouches at thy feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wags his tail, and fawns, and grovels, in his eagerness to eat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bid the Elephant be feeding, and the best of fodder bring;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gravely&mdash;after much entreaty&mdash;condescends that mighty king."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"By their own deeds men go downward, by them men mount upward all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the diggers of a well, and like the builders of a wall."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Rushes down the hill the crag, which upward 'twas so hard to roll:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So to virtue slowly rises&mdash;so to vice quick sinks the soul."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"Who speaks unasked, or comes unbid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Or counts on service&mdash;will be chid."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"Wise, modest, constant, ever close at hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Not weighing but obeying all command,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Such servant by a Monarch's throne may stand."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Pitiful, who fearing failure, therefore no beginning makes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why forswear a daily dinner for the chance of stomach-aches?"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Nearest to the King is dearest, be thy merit low or high;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Women, creeping plants, and princes, twine round that which groweth nigh."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Pearls are dull in leaden settings, but the setter is to blame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glass will glitter like the ruby, dulled with dust&mdash;are they the same?"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"And a fool may tread on jewels, setting in his turban glass;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet, at selling, gems are gems, and fardels but for fardels pass."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Horse and weapon, lute and volume, man and woman, gift of speech,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have their uselessness or uses in the one who owneth each."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Not disparagement nor slander kills the spirit of the brave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fling a torch down, upward ever burns the brilliant flame it gave."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Wisdom from the mouth of children be it overpast of none;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What man scorns to walk by lamplight in the absence of the sun?"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Strength serves Reason. Saith the Mahout, when he beats the brazen drum,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Ho! ye elephants, to this work must your mightinesses come.'"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Mighty natures war with mighty: when the raging tempests blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er the green rice harmless pass they, but they lay the palm-trees low."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Narrow-necked to let out little, big of belly to keep much,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As a flagon is&mdash;the Vizier of a Sultan should be such."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"He who thinks a minute little, like a fool misuses more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He who counts a cowry nothing, being wealthy, will be poor."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Brahmans, soldiers, these and kinsmen&mdash;of the three set none in charge:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the Brahman, though you rack him, yields no treasure small or large;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the soldier, being trusted, writes his quittance with his sword,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the kinsman cheats his kindred by the charter of the word;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">But a servant old in service, worse than any one is thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who, by long-tried license fearless, knows his master's anger nought."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Never tires the fire of burning, never wearies Death of slaying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor the sea of drinking rivers, nor the bright-eyed of betraying."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"From false friends that breed thee strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">From a house with serpents rife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Saucy slaves and brawling wife&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Get thee forth, to save thy life."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+ <span class="i0">"Teeth grown loose, and wicked-hearted ministers, and poison trees,</span>
+<span class="i0">Pluck them by the roots together; 'tis the thing that giveth ease."</span></div></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Long-tried friends are friends to cleave to&mdash;never leave thou these
+i' the lurch:</span>
+<span class="i0">What man shuns the fire as sinful for that once it
+burned a church?"</span></div></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">"Raise an evil soul to honour, and his evil bents remain;</span>
+<span class="i0">Bind a cur's
+tail ne'er so straightly, yet it curleth up again."</span></div></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"How, in sooth, should Trust and Honour change the evil nature's root?</span>
+<span class="i0">Though one watered them with nectar, poison-trees bear deadly fruit."</span></div></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Safe within the husk of silence guard the seed of counsel so</span>
+<span class="i0">That it
+break not&mdash;being broken, then the seedling will not grow."</span></div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Even as one who grasps a serpent, drowning in the bitter sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Death to hold and death to loosen&mdash;such is life's perplexity."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Woman's love rewards the worthless&mdash;kings of knaves exalters be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wealth attends the selfish niggard, and the cloud rains on the sea."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">"Many a knave wins fair opinions standing in fair company,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the sooty soorma pleases, lighted by a brilliant eye."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Where the azure lotus blossoms, there the alligators hide;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the sandal-tree are serpents. Pain and pleasure live allied."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Rich the sandal&mdash;yet no part is but a vile thing habits there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Snake and wasp haunt root and blossom; on the boughs sit ape and bear."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"As a bracelet of crystal, once broke, is not mended<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So the favour of princes, once altered, is ended."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Wrath of kings, and rage of lightning&mdash;both be very full of dread;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But one falls on one man only&mdash;one strikes many victims dead."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">"All men scorn the soulless coward who his manhood doth forget:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On a lifeless heap of ashes fearlessly the foot is set."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Simple milk, when serpents drink it, straightway into venom turns;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a fool who heareth counsel all the wisdom of it spurns."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"A modest manner fits a maid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And Patience is a man's adorning;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">But brides may kiss, nor do amiss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">And men may draw, at scathe and scorning."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Serving narrow-minded masters dwarfs high natures to their size:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seen before a convex mirror, elephants do show as mice."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Elephants destroy by touching, snakes with point of tooth beguile;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kings by favour kill, and traitors murder with a fatal smile."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">"Of the wife the lord is jewel, though no gems upon her beam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lacking him, she lacks adornment, howsoe'er her jewels gleam!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Hairs three-lakhs, and half-a-lakh hairs, on a man so many grow&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so many years to Swarga shall the true wife surely go!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"When the faithful wife, embracing tenderly her husband dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mounts the blazing pyre beside him, as it were a bridal-bed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though his sins were twenty thousand, twenty thousand times o'er-told,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She shall bring his soul to splendour, for her love so large and bold."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Counsel unto six ears spoken, unto all is notified<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When a King holds consultation, let it be with one beside."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">"Sick men are for skilful leeches&mdash;prodigals for poisoning&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fools for teachers&mdash;and the man who keeps a secret, for a King."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"With gift, craft, promise, cause thy foe to yield;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When these have failed thee, challenge him afield."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"The subtle wash of waves do smoothly pass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">But lay the tree as lowly as the grass."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Ten true bowmen on a rampart fifty's onset may sustain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fortalices keep a country more than armies in the plain."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Build it strong, and build it spacious, with an entry and retreat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Store it well with wood and water, fill its garners full with wheat."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"Gems will no man's life sustain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Best of gold is golden grain."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">"Hard it is to conquer nature: if a dog were made a King,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mid the coronation trumpets he would gnaw his sandal-string."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Tis no Council where no Sage is&mdash;'tis no Sage that fears not Law;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis no Law which Truth confirms not&mdash;'tis no Truth which Fear can awe."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">"Though base be the Herald, nor hinder nor let,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">For the mouth of a king is he;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sword may be whet, and the battle set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But the word of his message goes free."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Better few and chosen fighters than of shaven-crowns a host,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For in headlong flight confounded, with the base the brave are lost."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Kind is kin, howe'er a stranger&mdash;kin unkind is stranger shown;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sores hurt, though the body breeds them&mdash;drugs relieve, though desert-grown."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Betel-nut is bitter, hot, sweet, spicy, binding, alkaline&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A demulcent&mdash;an astringent&mdash;foe to evils intestine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Giving to the breath a fragrance&mdash;to the lips a crimson red;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A detergent, and a kindler of Love's flame that lieth dead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Praise the Gods for the good betel!&mdash;these be thirteen virtues given,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hard to meet in one thing blended, even in their happy heaven."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"He is brave whose tongue is silent of the trophies of his sword;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is great whose quiet bearing marks his greatness well assured."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"When the Priest, the Leech, the Vizier of a King his flatterers be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Very soon the King will part with health, and wealth and piety."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Merciless, or money-loving, deaf to counsel, false of faith,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thoughtless, spiritless, or careless, changing course with every breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or the man who scorns his rival&mdash;if a prince should choose a foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ripe for meeting and defeating, certes he would choose him so."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"By the valorous and unskilful great achievements are not wrought;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Courage, led by careful Prudence, unto highest ends is brought."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Grief kills gladness, winter summer, midnight-gloom the light of day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kindnesses ingratitude, and pleasant friends drive pain away;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each ends each, but none of other surer conquerors can be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than Impolicy of Fortune&mdash;of Misfortune Policy."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Wisdom answers all who ask her, but a fool she cannot aid;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blind men in the faithful mirror see not their reflection made."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Where the Gods are, or thy G&uacute;r&uacute;&mdash;in the face of Pain and Age,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cattle, Brahmans, Kings, and Children&mdash;reverently curb thy rage."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Oh, my Prince! on eight occasions prodigality is none&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the solemn sacrificing, at the wedding of a son,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the glittering treasure given makes the proud invader bleed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or its lustre bringeth comfort to the people in their need,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or when kinsmen are to succour, or a worthy work to end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or to do a loved one honour, or to welcome back a friend."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">"Truth, munificence, and valour, are the virtues of a King;<br /></span>
+
+<span class="i0">Royalty, devoid of either, sinks to a rejected thing."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Hold thy vantage!&mdash;alligators on the land make none afraid;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the lion's but a jackal who hath left his forest-shade."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The people are the lotus-leaves, their monarch is the sun&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he doth sink beneath the waves they vanish every one.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When he doth rise they rise again with bud and blossom rife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To bask awhile in his warm smile, who is their lord and life."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"All the cows bring forth are cattle&mdash;only now and then is born<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An authentic lord of pastures, with his shoulder-scratching horn."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">"When the soldier in the battle lays his life down for his king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unto Swarga's perfect glory such a deed his soul shall bring."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Tis the fool who, meeting trouble, straightway Destiny reviles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Knowing not his own misdoing brought his own mischance the whiles."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Time-not-come' and 'Quick-at-Peril,' these two fishes 'scaped the net;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'What-will-be-will-be,' he perished, by the fishermen beset."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"Sex, that tires of being true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Base and new is brave to you!<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Like the jungle-cows ye range,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Changing food for sake of change."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"That which will not be will not be, and what is to be will be:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why not drink this easy physic, antidote of misery?"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Whoso trusts, for service rendered, or fair words, an enemy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wakes from folly like one falling in his slumber from a tree."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Fellow be with kindly foemen, rather than with friends unkind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Friend and foeman are distinguished not by title but by mind."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Whoso setting duty highest, speaks at need unwelcome things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Disregarding fear and favour, such an one may succour kings."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Brahmans for their lore have honour; Kshattriyas for their bravery;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vaisyas for their hard-earned treasure; Sudras for humility."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Seven foemen of all foemen, very hard to vanquish be:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Truth-teller, the Just-dweller, and the man from passion free.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Subtle, self-sustained, and counting frequent well-won victories,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the man of many kinsmen&mdash;keep the peace with such as these."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"For the man with many kinsmen answers by them all attacks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the bambu, in the bambus safely sheltered, scorns the axe."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Whoso hath the gift of giving wisely, equitably, well;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whoso, learning all men's secrets, unto none his own will tell:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whoso, ever cold and courtly, utters nothing that offends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such an one may rule his fellows unto Earth's extremest ends."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Cheating them that truly trust you, 'tis a clumsy villany!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Any knave may slay the child who climbs and slumbers on his knee."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Hunger hears not, cares not, spares not; no boon of the starving beg;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the snake is pinched with craving, verily she eats her egg."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"Of the Tree of State the root<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Kings are&mdash;feed what brings the fruit."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Courtesy may cover malice; on their <i>heads</i> the woodmen bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meaning all the while to burn them, logs and faggots&mdash;oh, my King!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the strong and subtle river, rippling at the cedar's foot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While it seems to lave and kiss it, undermines the hanging root."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Weep not! Life the hired nurse is, holding us a little space;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Death, the mother who doth take us back into our proper place."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Gone, with all their gauds and glories: gone, like peasants, are the Kings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whereunto this earth was witness, whereof all her record rings."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"For the body, daily wasting, is not seen to waste away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until wasted; as in water set a jar of unbaked clay."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"And day after day man goeth near and nearer to his fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As step after step the victim thither where its slayers wait."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">"Like as a plank of drift-wood<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Tossed on the watery main,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Another plank encountered,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Meets,&mdash;touches,&mdash;parts again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">So tossed, and drifting ever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">On life's unresting sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">Men meet, and greet, and sever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Parting eternally."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Halt, traveller! rest i' the shade: then up and leave it!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stay, Soul! take fill of love; nor losing, grieve it!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">"Each beloved object born<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Sets within the heart a thorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Bleeding, when they be uptorn."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"If thine own house, this rotting frame, doth wither,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thinking another's lasting&mdash;goest thou thither?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">"Meeting makes a parting sure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Life is nothing but death's door."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"As the downward-running rivers never turn and never stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So the days and nights stream deathward, bearing human lives away."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Bethinking him of darkness grim, and death's unshunn&egrave;d pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A man strong-souled relaxes hold, like leather soaked in rain."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">"From the day, the hour, the minute.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Each life quickens in the womb;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thence its march, no falter in it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Goes straight forward to the tomb."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"An 'twere not so, would sorrow cease with years?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wisdom sees right what want of knowledge fears."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Seek not the wild, sad heart! thy passions haunt it;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Play hermit in thy house with heart undaunted;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A governed heart, thinking no thought but good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Makes crowded houses holy solitude."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Away with those that preach to us the washing off of sin&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thine own self is the stream for thee to make ablutions in:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In self-restraint it rises pure&mdash;flows clear in tide of truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By widening banks of wisdom, in waves of peace and truth."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Bathe there, thou son of Pandu! with reverence and rite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For never yet was water wet could wash the spirit white."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Thunder for nothing, like December's cloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Passes unmarked: strike hard, but speak not loud."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Minds deceived by evil natures, from the good their faith withhold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When hot conjee once has burned them, children blow upon the cold."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<h3>THE END.</h3>
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Indian Poetry, by Edwin Arnold
+
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@@ -0,0 +1,6133 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Indian Poetry, by Edwin Arnold
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Indian Poetry
+       Containing "The Indian Song of Songs," from the Sanskrit
+       of the Gita Govinda of Jayadeva, Two books from "The Iliad
+       Of India" (Mahabharata), "Proverbial Wisdom" from the
+       Shlokas of the Hitopadesa, and other Oriental Poems.
+
+Author: Edwin Arnold
+
+Release Date: July 4, 2008 [EBook #25965]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INDIAN POETRY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Thierry Alberto, and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                            INDIAN POETRY
+
+                             CONTAINING
+
+            "_THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS," FROM THE SANSKRIT
+                   OF THE GITA GOVINDA OF JAYADEVA
+          TWO BOOKS FROM "THE ILIAD OF INDIA" (MAHABHARATA)
+             "PROVERBIAL WISDOM" FROM THE SHLOKAS OF THE
+                HITOPADESA, AND OTHER ORIENTAL POEMS_
+
+
+                                  BY
+
+               SIR EDWIN ARNOLD, M.A., K.C.I.E., C.S.I.
+
+                   _Author of "The Light of Asia"_
+
+                OFFICER OF THE WHITE ELEPHANT OF SIAM
+          THIRD CLASS OF THE IMPERIAL ORDER OF THE MEDJIDIE
+     FELLOW OF THE ROYAL ASIATIC AND ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETIES
+ HONORARY MEMBER OF THE SOCIETE DE GEOGRAPHIE, MARSEILLES, ETC. ETC.
+           FORMERLY PRINCIPAL OF THE DECCAN COLLEGE, POONA
+                AND FELLOW OF THE UNIVERSITY OF BOMBAY
+
+
+
+                          EIGHTH IMPRESSION
+
+
+                                LONDON
+
+                KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO. L^TD
+
+                   DRYDEN HOUSE, GERRARD STREET, W.
+
+                                 1904
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+                                                        PAGE
+
+THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS--
+
+Introduction                                             1
+
+Hymn to Vishnu                                           3
+
+Sarga the First--The Sports of Krishna                   9
+
+Sarga the Second--The Penitence of Krishna              22
+
+Sarga the Third--Krishna troubled                       31
+
+Sarga the Fourth--Krishna cheered                       37
+
+Sarga the Fifth--The Longings of Krishna                44
+
+Sarga the Sixth--Krishna made bolder                    54
+
+Sarga the Seventh--Krishna supposed false               59
+
+Sarga the Eighth--The Rebuking of Krishna               75
+
+Sarga the Ninth--The End of Krishna's Trial             79
+
+Sarga the Tenth--Krishna in Paradise                    83
+
+Sarga the Eleventh--The Union of Radha and Krishna      88
+
+
+MISCELLANEOUS ORIENTAL POEMS--
+
+The Rajpoot Wife                                       101
+
+King Saladin                                           113
+
+The Caliph's Draught                                   132
+
+Hindoo Funeral Song                                    137
+
+Song of the Serpent Charmers                           138
+
+Song of the Flour-Mill                                 140
+
+Taza ba Taza                                           142
+
+The Mussulman Paradise                                 146
+
+Dedication of a Poem from the Sanskrit                 150
+
+The Rajah's Ride                                       151
+
+
+TWO BOOKS FROM THE "ILIAD OF INDIA"                    159
+
+The Great Journey                                      172
+
+The Entry into Heaven                                  192
+
+THE NIGHT OF SLAUGHTER                                 210
+
+THE MORNING PRAYER                                     216
+
+
+PROVERBIAL WISDOM FROM THE SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA   221
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
+
+_INTRODUCTION._
+
+OM!
+
+REVERENCE TO GANESHA!
+
+
+    "The sky is clouded; and the wood resembles
+      The sky, thick-arched with black Tamala boughs;
+    O Radha, Radha! take this Soul, that trembles
+      In life's deep midnight, to Thy golden house."
+    So Nanda spoke,--and, led by Radha's spirit,
+      The feet of Krishna found the road aright;
+    Wherefore, in bliss which all high hearts inherit,
+      Together taste they Love's divine delight.
+
+           _He who wrote these things for thee,
+            Of the Son of Wassoodee,
+            Was the poet Jayadeva;
+            Him Saraswati gave ever
+            Fancies fair his mind to throng,
+            Like pictures palace-walls along;
+            Ever to his notes of love
+            Lakshmi's mystic dancers move.
+            If thy spirit seeks to brood
+            On Hari glorious, Hari good;
+            If it feeds on solemn numbers.
+            Dim as dreams and soft as slumbers,
+            Lend thine ear to Jayadev,
+            Lord of all the spells that save.
+            Umapatidhara's strain
+            Glows like roses after rain;
+            Sharan's stream-like song is grand,
+            If its tide ye understand;
+            Bard more wise beneath the sun
+            Is not found than Govardhun;
+            Dhoyi holds the listener still
+            With his shlokes of subtle skill;
+            But for sweet words suited well
+            Jayadeva doth excel._
+
+
+
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ MALAVA _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
+
+HYMN TO VISHNU
+
+
+    O thou that held'st the blessed Veda dry
+      When all things else beneath the floods were hurled;
+    Strong Fish-God! Ark of Men! _Jai!_ Hari, _jai!_
+      Hail, Keshav, hail! thou Master of the world!
+
+    The round world rested on thy spacious nape;
+      Upon thy neck, like a mere mole, it stood:
+    O thou that took'st for us the Tortoise-shape,
+      Hail, Keshav, hail! Ruler of wave and wood!
+
+    The world upon thy curving tusk sate sure,
+      Like the Moon's dark disc in her crescent pale;
+    O thou who didst for us assume the Boar,
+      Immortal Conqueror! hail, Keshav, hail!
+
+    When thou thy Giant-Foe didst seize and rend,
+      Fierce, fearful, long, and sharp were fang and nail;
+    Thou who the Lion and the Man didst blend,
+      Lord of the Universe! hail, Narsingh, hail!
+
+    Wonderful Dwarf!--who with a threefold stride
+      Cheated King Bali--where thy footsteps fall
+    Men's sins, O Wamuna! are set aside:
+      O Keshav, hail! thou Help and Hope of all!
+
+    The sins of this sad earth thou didst assoil,
+      The anguish of its creatures thou didst heal;
+    Freed are we from all terrors by thy toil:
+      Hail, Purshuram, hail! Lord of the biting steel!
+
+    To thee the fell Ten-Headed yielded life,
+      Thou in dread battle laid'st the monster low!
+    Ah, Rama! dear to Gods and men that strife;
+      We praise thee, Master of the matchless bow!
+
+    With clouds for garments glorious thou dost fare,
+      Veiling thy dazzling majesty and might,
+    As when Yamuna saw thee with the share,
+      A peasant--yet the King of Day and Night.
+
+    Merciful-hearted! when thou earnest as Boodh--
+      Albeit 'twas written in the Scriptures so--
+    Thou bad'st our altars be no more imbrued
+      With blood of victims: Keshav! bending low--
+
+    We praise thee, Wielder of the sweeping sword,
+      Brilliant as curving comets in the gloom,
+    Whose edge shall smite the fierce barbarian horde;
+      Hail to thee, Keshav! hail, and hear, and come,
+
+    And fill this song of Jayadev with thee,
+      And make it wise to teach, strong to redeem,
+    And sweet to living souls. Thou Mystery!
+      Thou Light of Life! Thou Dawn beyond the dream!
+
+            Fish! that didst outswim the flood;
+            Tortoise! whereon earth hath stood;
+            Boar! who with thy tush held'st high
+            The world, that mortals might not die;
+            Lion! who hast giants torn;
+            Dwarf! who laugh'dst a king to scorn;
+            Sole Subduer of the Dreaded!
+            Slayer of the many-headed!
+            Mighty Ploughman! Teacher tender!
+            Of thine own the sure Defender!
+            Under all thy ten disguises
+            Endless praise to thee arises.
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARI _and the Mode_ NIHSARA.)
+
+     Endless praise arises,
+     O thou God that liest
+     Rapt, on Kumla's breast,
+     Happiest, holiest, highest!
+     Planets are thy jewels,
+     Stars thy forehead-gems,
+     Set like sapphires gleaming
+     In kingliest anadems;
+     Even the great gold Sun-God,
+     Blazing through the sky,
+     Serves thee but for crest-stone,
+    _Jai, jai!_ Hari, _jai!_
+     As that Lord of day
+     After night brings morrow,
+     Thou dost charm away
+     Life's long dream of sorrow.
+     As on Mansa's water
+     Brood the swans at rest,
+     So thy laws sit stately
+     On a holy breast.
+     O, Drinker of the poison!
+     Ah, high Delight of earth!
+     What light is to the lotus-buds,
+     What singing is to mirth,
+     Art thou--art thou that slayedst
+     Madhou and Narak grim;
+     That ridest on the King of Birds,
+     Making all glories dim.
+     With eyes like open lotus-flowers,
+     Bright in the morning rain,
+     Freeing by one swift piteous glance
+     The spirit from Life's pain:
+     Of all the three Worlds Treasure!
+     Of sin the Putter-by!
+     O'er the Ten-Headed Victor!
+    _Jai_ Hari! Hari! _jai!_
+     Thou Shaker of the Mountain!
+     Thou Shadow of the Storm!
+     Thou Cloud that unto Lakshmi's face
+     Comes welcome, white, and warm!
+     O thou,--who to great Lakshmi
+     Art like the silvery beam
+     Which moon-sick chakors feed upon
+     By Jumna's silent stream,--
+     To thee this hymn ascendeth,
+     That Jayadev doth sing,
+     Of worship, love, and mystery
+     High Lord and Heavenly King!
+     And unto whoso hears it
+     Do thou a blessing bring--
+     Whose neck is gilt with yellow dust
+     From lilies that did cling
+     Beneath the breasts of Lakshmi,
+     A girdle soft and sweet,
+     When in divine embracing
+     The lips of Gods did meet;
+     And the beating heart above
+     Of thee--Dread Lord of Heaven!--
+     She left that stamp of love--
+     By such deep sign be given
+     Prays Jayadev, the glory
+     And the secret and the spells
+     Which close-hid in this story
+     Unto wise ears he tells.
+
+
+END OF INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE FIRST._
+
+SAMODADAMODARO.
+
+THE SPORTS OF KRISHNA.
+
+
+          Beautiful Radha, jasmine-bosomed Radha,
+          All in the Spring-time waited by the wood
+          For Krishna fair, Krishna the all-forgetful,--
+          Krishna with earthly love's false fire consuming--
+          And some one of her maidens sang this song:--
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ VASANTA _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    I know where Krishna tarries in these early days of Spring,
+    When every wind from warm Malay brings fragrance on its wing;
+    Brings fragrance stolen far away from thickets of the clove,
+    In jungles where the bees hum and the Koil flutes her love;
+    He dances with the dancers of a merry morrice one,
+    All in the budding Spring-time, for 'tis sad to be alone.
+
+    I know how Krishna passes these hours of blue and gold
+    When parted lovers sigh to meet and greet and closely hold
+    Hand fast in hand; and every branch upon the Vakul-tree
+    Droops downward with a hundred blooms, in every bloom a bee;
+    He is dancing with the dancers to a laughter-moving tone,
+    In the soft awakening Spring-time, when 'tis hard to live alone.
+
+    Where Kroona-flowers, that open at a lover's lightest tread,
+    Break, and, for shame at what they hear, from white blush modest red;
+    And all the spears on all the boughs of all the Ketuk-glades
+    Seem ready darts to pierce the hearts of wandering youths and maids;
+    Tis there thy Krishna dances till the merry drum is done,
+    All in the sunny Spring-time, when who can live alone?
+
+    Where the breaking forth of blossom on the yellow Keshra-sprays
+    Dazzles like Kama's sceptre, whom all the world obeys;
+    And Patal-buds fill drowsy bees from pink delicious bowls,
+    As Kama's nectared goblet steeps in languor human souls;
+    There he dances with the dancers, and of Radha thinketh none,
+    All in the warm new Spring-tide, when none will live alone.
+
+    Where the breath of waving Madhvi pours incense through the grove,
+    And silken Mogras lull the sense with essences of love,--
+    The silken-soft pale Mogra, whose perfume fine and faint
+    Can melt the coldness of a maid, the sternness of a saint--
+    There dances with those dancers thine other self, thine Own,
+    All in the languorous Spring-time, when none will live alone.
+
+    Where--as if warm lips touched sealed eyes and waked them--all the
+        bloom
+    Opens upon the mangoes to feel the sunshine come;
+    And Atimuktas wind their arms of softest green about,
+    Clasping the stems, while calm and clear great Jumna spreadeth out;
+    There dances and there laughs thy Love, with damsels many an one,
+    In the rosy days of Spring-time, for he will not live alone.
+
+           _Mark this song of Jayadev!
+            Deep as pearl in ocean-wave
+            Lurketh in its lines a wonder
+            Which the wise alone will ponder:
+            Though it seemeth of the earth.
+            Heavenly is the music's birth;
+            Telling darkly of delights
+            In the wood, of wasted nights,
+            Of witless days, and fruitless love,
+            And false pleasures of the grove,
+            And rash passions of the prime,
+            And those dances of Spring-time;
+            Time, which seems so subtle-sweet,
+            Time, which pipes to dancing-feet,
+            Ah! so softly--ah! so sweetly--
+            That among those wood-maids featly
+            Krishna cannot choose but dance,
+            Letting pass life's greater chance._
+
+      Yet the winds that sigh so
+        As they stir the rose,
+      Wake a sigh from Krishna
+        Wistfuller than those;
+      All their faint breaths swinging
+        The creepers to and fro
+      Pass like rustling arrows
+        Shot from Kama's bow:
+      Thus among the dancers
+        What those zephyrs bring
+      Strikes to Krishna's spirit
+        Like a darted sting.
+
+      And all as if--far wandered--
+        The traveller should hear
+      The bird of home, the Koil,
+        With nest-notes rich and clear;
+      And there should come one moment
+        A blessed fleeting dream
+      Of the bees among the mangoes
+        Beside his native stream;
+      So flash those sudden yearnings,
+        That sense of a dearer thing,
+      The love and lack of Radha
+        Upon his soul in Spring.
+
+    Then she, the maid of Radha, spake again;
+    And pointing far away between the leaves
+    Guided her lovely Mistress where to look,
+    And note how Krishna wantoned in the wood
+    Now with this one, now that; his heart, her prize,
+    Panting with foolish passions, and his eyes
+    Beaming with too much love for those fair girls--
+    Fair, but not so as Radha; and she sang:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ RAMAGIRI _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    See, Lady! how thy Krishna passes these idle hours
+    Decked forth in fold of woven gold, and crowned with forest-flowers;
+    And scented with the sandal, and gay with gems of price--
+    Rubies to mate his laughing lips, and diamonds like his, eyes;--
+    In the company of damsels,[1] who dance and sing and play,
+    Lies Krishna, laughing, toying, dreaming his Spring away.
+
+[Footnote 1: It will be observed that the "Gopis" here personify the
+five senses. Lassen says, "_Manifestum est puellis istis nil aliud
+significar quam res sensiles_."]
+
+    One, with star-blossomed champak wreathed, wooes him to rest his head
+    On the dark pillow of her breast so tenderly outspread;
+    And o'er his brow with, roses blown she fans a fragrance rare,
+    That falls on the enchanted sense like rain in thirsty air,
+    While the company of damsels wave many an odorous spray,
+    And Krishna, laughing, toying, sighs the soft Spring away.
+
+    Another, gazing in his face, sits wistfully apart,
+    Searching it with those looks of love that leap from heart to heart;
+    Her eyes--afire with shy desire, veiled by their lashes black--
+    Speak so that Krishna cannot choose but send the message back,
+    In the company of damsels whose bright eyes in a ring
+    Shine round him with soft meanings in the merry light of Spring.
+
+    The third one of that dazzling band of dwellers in the wood--
+    Body and bosom panting with the pulse of youthful blood--
+    Leans over him, as in his ear a lightsome thing to speak,
+    And then with leaf-soft lip imprints a kiss below his cheek;
+    A kiss that thrills, and Krishna turns at the silken touch
+    To give it back--ah, Radha! forgetting thee too much.
+
+    And one with arch smile beckons him away from Jumna's banks,
+    Where the tall bamboos bristle like spears in battle-ranks,
+    And plucks his cloth to make him come into the mango-shade,
+    Where the fruit is ripe and golden, and the milk and cakes are laid:
+    Oh! golden-red the mangoes, and glad the feasts of Spring,
+    And fair the flowers to lie upon, and sweet the dancers sing.
+
+    Sweetest of all that Temptress who dances for him now
+    With subtle feet which part and meet in the Ras-measure slow,
+    To the chime of silver bangles and the beat of rose-leaf hands,
+    And pipe and lute and cymbal played by the woodland bands;
+    So that wholly passion-laden--eye, ear, sense, soul o'ercome--
+    Krishna is theirs in the forest; his heart forgets its home.
+
+           _Krishna, made for heavenly things,
+            'Mid those woodland singers sings;
+            With those dancers dances featly,
+            Gives back soft embraces sweetly;
+            Smiles on that one, toys with this,
+            Glance for glance and kiss for kiss;
+            Meets the merry damsels fairly,
+            Plays the round of folly rarely,
+            Lapped in milk-warm spring-time weather,
+            He and those brown girls together._
+
+            _And this shadowed earthly love
+            In the twilight of the grove,
+            Dance and song and soft caresses,
+            Meeting looks and tangled tresses,
+            Jayadev the same hath writ,
+            That ye might have gain of it,
+            Sagely its deep sense conceiving
+            And its inner light believing;
+            How that Love--the mighty Master,
+            Lord of all the stars that cluster
+            In the sky, swiftest and slowest,
+            Lord of highest, Lord of lowest--
+            Manifests himself to mortals,
+            Winning them towards the portals
+            Of his secret House, the gates
+            Of that bright Paradise which waits
+            The wise in love. Ah, human creatures!
+            Even your phantasies are teachers.
+            Mighty Love makes sweet in seeming
+            Even Krishna's woodland dreaming;
+            Mighty Love sways all alike
+            From self to selflessness. Oh! strike
+            From your eyes the veil, and see
+            What Love willeth Him to be
+            Who in error, but in grace,
+            Sitteth with that lotus-face,
+            And those eyes whose rays of heaven
+            Unto phantom-eyes are given;_
+           _Holding feasts of foolish mirth
+            With these Visions of the earth;
+            Learning love, and love imparting;
+            Yet with sense of loss upstarting:--_
+
+            _For the cloud that veils the fountains
+            Underneath the Sandal mountains,
+            How--as if the sunshine drew
+            All its being to the blue--
+            It takes flight, and seeks to rise
+            High into the purer skies,
+            High into the snow and frost,
+            On the shining summits lost!
+            Ah! and how the Koil's strain
+            Smites the traveller with pain,--
+            When the mango blooms in spring,
+            And "Koohoo," "Koohoo," they sing--
+            Pain of pleasures not yet won,
+            Pain of journeys not yet done,
+            Pain of toiling without gaining,
+            Pain, 'mid gladness, of still paining._
+
+    But may He guide us all to glory high
+    Who laughed when Radha glided, hidden, by,
+    And all among those damsels free and bold
+    Touched Krishna with a soft mouth, kind and cold;
+    And like the others, leaning on his breast,
+    Unlike the others, left there Love's unrest;
+    And like the others, joining in his song,
+    Unlike the others, made him silent long.
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_
+SAMODADAMODARO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE SECOND._
+
+KLESHAKESHAVO.
+
+THE PENITENCE OF KRISHNA.
+
+
+    Thus lingered Krishna in the deep, green wood,
+    And gave himself, too prodigal, to those;
+    But Radha, heart-sick at his falling-off,
+    Seeing her heavenly beauty slighted so,
+    Withdrew; and, in a bower of Paradise--
+    Where nectarous blossoms wove a shrine of shade,
+    Haunted by birds and bees of unknown skies--
+    She sate deep-sorrowful, and sang this strain,
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARI _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    Ah, my Beloved! taken with those glances,
+    Ah, my Beloved! dancing those rash dances,
+      Ah, Minstrel! playing wrongful strains so well;
+    Ah, Krishna! Krishna with the honeyed lip!
+    Ah, Wanderer into foolish fellowship!
+      My Dancer, my Delight!--I love thee still.
+
+    O Dancer! strip thy peacock-crown away,
+    Rise! thou whose forehead is the star of day,
+      With beauty for its silver halo set;
+    Come! thou whose greatness gleams beneath its shroud
+    Like Indra's rainbow shining through the cloud--
+      Come, for I love thee, my Beloved! yet.
+
+    Must love thee--cannot choose but love thee ever,
+    My best Beloved--set on this endeavor,
+      To win thy tender heart and earnest eye
+    From lips but sadly sweet, from restless bosoms,
+    To mine, O Krishna with the mouth of blossoms!
+      To mine, thou soul of Krishna! yet I sigh
+
+    Half hopeless, thinking of myself forsaken,
+    And thee, dear Loiterer, in the wood o'ertaken
+      With passion for those bold and wanton ones,
+    Who knit thine arms as poison-plants gripe trees
+    With twining cords--their flowers the braveries
+      That flash in the green gloom, sparkling stars and stones.
+
+    My Prince! my Lotus-faced! my woe! my love!
+    Whose broad brow, with the tilka-spot above,
+      Shames the bright moon at full with fleck of cloud;
+    Thou to mistake so little for so much!
+    Thou, Krishna, to be palm to palm with such!
+      O Soul made for my joys, pure, perfect, proud!
+
+    Ah, my Beloved! in thy darkness dear;
+    Ah, Dancer! with the jewels in thine ear,
+      Swinging to music of a loveless love;
+    O my Beloved! in thy fall so high
+    That angels, sages, spirits of the sky
+      Linger about thee, watching in the grove.
+
+    I will be patient still, and draw thee ever,
+    My one Beloved, sitting by the river
+      Under the thick kadambas with that throng:
+    Will there not come an end to earthly madness?
+    Shall I not, past the sorrow, have the gladness?
+      Must not the love-light shine for him ere long?
+
+           _Shine, thou Light by Radha given,
+            Shine, thou splendid star of heaven!
+            Be a lamp to Krishna's feet,
+            Show to all hearts secrets sweet,
+            Of the wonder and the love
+            Jayadev hath writ above.
+            Be the quick Interpreter
+            Unto wisest ears of her
+            Who always sings to all, "I wait,
+            He loveth still who loveth late."_
+
+    For (sang on that high Lady in the shade)
+    My soul for tenderness, not blame, was made;
+      Mine eyes look through his evil to his good;
+    My heart coins pleas for him; my fervent thought
+    Prevents what he will say when these are naught,
+      And that which I am shall be understood.
+
+    Then spake she to her maiden wistfully--
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ MALAVAGAUDA _and the Mode_ EKATALI.)
+
+    Go to him,--win him hither,--whisper low
+      How he may find me if he searches well;
+    Say, if he will--joys past his hope to know
+      Await him here; go now to him, and tell
+    Where Radha is, and that henceforth she charms
+                     His spirit to her arms.
+
+    Yes, go! say, if he will, that he may come--
+      May come, my love, my longing, my desire;
+    May come forgiven, shriven, to me his home,
+      And make his happy peace; nay, and aspire
+    To uplift Radha's veil, and learn at length
+                     What love is in its strength.
+
+    Lead him; say softly I shall chide his blindness,
+      And vex him with my angers; yet add this,
+    He shall not vainly sue for loving-kindness,
+      Nor miss to see me close, nor lose the bliss
+    That lives upon my lip, nor be denied
+                     The rose-throne at my side.
+
+    Say that I--Radha--in my bower languish
+      All widowed, till he find the way to me;
+    Say that mine eyes are dim, my breast all anguish,
+      Until with gentle murmured shame I see
+    His steps come near, his anxious pleading face
+                     Bend for my pardoning grace.
+
+    While I--what, did he deem light loves so tender,
+      To tarry for them when the vow was made
+    To yield him up my bosom's maiden splendour,
+      And fold him in my fragrance, and unbraid
+    My shining hair for him, and clasp him close
+                     To the gold heart of his Rose?
+
+    And sing him strains which only spirits know,
+      And make him captive with the silk-soft chain
+    Of twinned-wings brooding round him, and bestow
+      Kisses of Paradise, as pure as rain;
+    My gems, my moonlight-pearls, my girdle-gold,
+                     Cymbaling music bold?
+
+    While gained for ever, I shall dare to grow
+      Life to life with him, in the realms divine;
+    And--Love's large cup at happy overflow,
+      Yet ever to be filled--his eyes and mine
+    Will meet in that glad look, when Time's great gate
+                     Closes and shuts out Fate.
+
+           _Listen to the unsaid things
+            Of the song that Radha sings,
+            For the soul draws near to bliss,
+            As it comprehendeth this.
+            I am Jayadev, who write
+            All this subtle-rich delight
+            For your teaching. Ponder, then,
+            What it tells to Gods and men.
+            Err not, watching Krishna gay,
+            With those brown girls all at play;
+            Understand how Radha charms
+            Her wandering lover to her arms,
+            Waiting with divinest love
+            Till his dream ends in the grove._
+
+    For even now (she sang) I see him pause,
+      Heart-stricken with the waste of heart he makes
+    Amid them;--all the bows of their bent brows
+      Wound him no more: no more for all their sakes
+    Plays he one note upon his amorous lute,
+                     But lets the strings lie mute.
+
+    Pensive, as if his parted lips should say--
+
+      "My feet with the dances are weary,
+        The music has dropped from the song,
+      There is no more delight in the lute-strings,
+        Sweet Shadows! what thing has gone wrong?
+      The wings of the wind have left fanning
+        The palms of the glade;
+      They are dead, and the blossoms seem dying
+        In the place where we played.
+
+      "We will play no more, beautiful Shadows!
+        A fancy came solemn and sad,
+      More sweet, with unspeakable longings,
+        Than the best of the pleasures we had:
+      I am not now the Krishna who kissed you;
+        That exquisite dream,--
+      The Vision I saw in my dancing--
+        Has spoiled what you seem.
+
+    "Ah! delicate phantoms that cheated
+      With eyes that looked lasting and true,
+    I awake,--I have seen her,--my angel--
+      Farewell to the wood and to you!
+    Oh, whisper of wonderful pity!
+      Oh, fair face that shone!
+    Though thou be a vision, Divinest!
+     This vision is done."
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_
+KLESHAKESHAVO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE THIRD._
+
+MUGDHAMADHUSUDANO.
+
+KRISHNA TROUBLED.
+
+
+    Thereat,--as one who welcomes to her throne
+    A new-made Queen, and brings before it bound
+    Her enemies,--so Krishna in his heart
+    Throned Radha; and--all treasonous follies chained--
+    He played no more with those first play-fellows:
+    But, searching through the shadows of the grove
+    For loveliest Radha,--when he found her not,
+    Faint with the quest, despairing, lonely, lorn,
+    And pierced with shame for wasted love and days,
+    He sate by Jumna, where the canes are thick,
+    And sang to the wood-echoes words like these:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARI _and to the Mode_ YATI)
+
+    Radha, Enchantress! Radha, queen of all!
+      Gone--lost, because she found me sinning here;
+    And I so stricken with my foolish fall,
+      I could not stay her out of shame and fear;
+                                She will not hear;
+      In her disdain and grief vainly I call.
+
+    And if she heard, what would she do? what say?
+      How could I make it good that I forgot?
+    What profit was it to me, night and day,
+      To live, love, dance, and dream, having her not?
+                                Soul without spot!
+    I wronged thy patience, till it sighed away.
+
+    Sadly I know the truth. Ah! even now
+      Remembering that one look beside the river,
+    Softer the vexed eyes seem, and the proud brow
+      Than lotus-leaves when the bees make them quiver.
+                                My love for ever!
+    Too late is Krishna wise--too far art thou!
+
+    Yet all day long in my deep heart I woo thee,
+      And all night long with thee my dreams are sweet;
+    Why, then, so vainly must my steps pursue thee?
+      Why can I never reach thee, to entreat,
+                                Low at thy feet,
+    Dear vanished Splendour! till my tears subdue thee?
+
+    Surpassing One! I knew thou didst not brook
+      Half-hearted worship, and a love that wavers;
+    Haho! there is the wisdom I mistook,
+      Therefore I seek with desperate endeavours;
+                                That fault dissevers
+    Me from my heaven, astray--condemned--forsook!
+
+    And yet I seem to feel, to know, thee near me;
+      Thy steps make music, measured music, near:
+    Radha! my Radha! will not sorrow clear me?
+      Shine once! speak one word pitiful and dear!
+                                Wilt thou not hear?
+    Canst thou--because I did forget--forsake me?
+
+    Forgive! the sin is sinned, is past, is over;
+      No thought I think shall do thee wrong again;
+    Turn thy dark eyes again upon thy lover
+      Bright Spirit! or I perish of this pain.
+                                Loving again!
+    In dread of doom to love, but not recover.
+
+           _So did Krishna sing and sigh
+            By the river-bank; and I,
+            Jayadev of Kinduvilva,
+            Resting--as the moon of silver
+            Sits upon the solemn ocean--
+            On full faith, in deep devotion;
+            Tell it that ye may perceive
+            How the heart must fret and grieve;
+            How the soul doth tire of earth,
+            When the love from Heav'n hath birth._
+
+    For (sang he on) I am no foe of thine,
+      There is no black snake, Kama! in my hair;
+    Blue lotus-bloom, and not the poisoned brine,
+      Shadows my neck; what stains my bosom bare,
+                                Thou God unfair!
+    Is sandal-dust, not ashes; nought of mine.
+
+    Makes me like Shiva that thou, Lord of Love!
+      Shouldst strain thy string at me and fit thy dart;
+    This world is thine--let be one breast thereof
+      Which bleeds already, wounded to the heart
+                                With lasting smart,
+    Shot from those brows that did my sin reprove.
+
+    Thou gavest her those black brows for a bow
+      Arched like thine own, whose pointed arrows seem
+    Her glances, and the underlids that go--
+      So firm and fine--its string? Ah, fleeting gleam!
+                                Beautiful dream!
+    Small need of Kama's help hast thou, I trow,
+
+    To smite me to the soul with love;--but set
+      Those arrows to their silken cord! enchain
+    My thoughts in that loose hair! let thy lips, wet
+      With dew of heaven as bimba-buds with rain,
+                                Bloom precious pain
+    Of longing in my heart; and, keener yet,
+
+    The heaving of thy lovely, angry bosom,
+      Pant to my spirit things unseen, unsaid;
+    But if thy touch, thy tones, if the dark blossom
+      Of thy dear face, thy jasmine-odours shed
+                                From feet to head,
+    If these be all with me, canst thou be far--be fled?
+
+    _So sang he, and I pray that whoso hears
+    The music of his burning hopes and fears,
+    That whoso sees this vision by the River
+    Of Krishna, Hari, (can we name him ever?)
+    And marks his ear-ring rubies swinging slow,
+    As he sits still, unheedful, bending low
+    To play this tune upon his lute, while all
+    Listen to catch the sadness musical;
+    And Krishna wotteth nought, but, with set face
+    Turned full toward Radha's, sings on in that place;
+    May all such souls--prays Jayadev--be wise
+    To lean the wisdom which hereunder lies._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_
+MUGDHAMADHUSUDANO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE FOURTH._
+
+SNIGDHAMADHUSUDANO.
+
+KRISHNA CHEERED.
+
+
+    Then she whom Radha sent came to the canes--
+    The canes beside the river where he lay
+    With listless limbs and spirit weak from love;--
+    And she sang this to Krishna wistfully:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ KARNATA _and the Mode_ EKATALI.)
+
+    Art thou sick for Radha? she is sad in turn,
+      Heaven foregoes its blessings, if it holds not thee,
+    All the cooling fragrance of sandal she doth spurn,
+      Moonlight makes her mournful with radiance silvery;
+    Even the southern breeze blown fresh from pearly seas,
+      Seems to her but tainted by a dolorous brine;
+    And for thy sake discontented, with a great love overladen,
+      Her soul comes here beside thee, and sitteth down with thine.
+
+    Her soul comes here beside thee, and tenderly and true
+      It weaves a subtle mail of proof to ward off sin and pain;
+    A breastplate soft as lotus-leaf, with holy tears for dew,
+      To guard thee from the things that hurt; and then 'tis gone again
+    To strew a blissful place with the richest buds that grace
+      Kama's sweet world, a meeting-spot with rose and jasmine fair,
+    For the hour when, well-contented, with a love no longer troubled,
+      Thou shalt find the way to Radha, and finish sorrows there.
+
+    But now her lovely face is shadowed by her fears;
+      Her glorious eyes are veiled and dim like moonlight in eclipse
+    By breaking rain-clouds, Krishna! yet she paints you in her tears
+      With tender thoughts--not Krishna, but brow and breast and lips
+    And form and mien a King, a great and godlike thing;
+      And then with bended head she asks grace from the Love Divine,
+    To keep thee discontented with the phantoms thou forswearest,
+      Till she may win her glory, and thou be raised to thine.
+
+            Softly now she sayeth,
+              "Krishna, Krishna, come!"
+            Lovingly she prayeth,
+              "Fair moon, light him home."
+            Yet if Hari helps not,
+              Moonlight cannot aid;
+            Ah! the woeful Radha!
+              Ah! the forest shade!
+
+            Ah! if Hari guide not,
+              Moonlight is as gloom;
+            Ah! if moonlight help not,
+              How shall Krishna come?
+            Sad for Krishna grieving
+              In the darkened grove;
+            Sad for Radha weaving
+              Dreams of fruitless love!
+
+       _Strike soft strings to this soft measure,
+        If thine ear would catch its treasure;
+        Slowly dance to this deep song,
+        Let its meaning float along
+        With grave paces, since it tells
+        Of a love that sweetly dwells
+        In a tender distant glory,
+        Past all faults of mortal story._
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ DESHAGA _and the Mode_ EKATALI.)
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, faint she lies with love and fear;
+    Even the jewels of her necklet seem a load too great to bear.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, all the sandal and the flowers
+    Vex her with their pure perfection though they grow in heavenly bowers.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, fair albeit those bowers may be,
+    Passion burns her, and love's fire fevers her for lack of thee.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, those divine lids, dark and tender,
+    Droop like lotus-leaves in rain-storms, dashed and heavy in their
+        splendour.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, that rose-couch which she hath spread
+    Saddens with its empty place, its double pillow for one head.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, from her palms she will not lift
+    The dark face hidden deep within them like the moon in cloudy rift.
+
+    Krishna, till thou come unto her, angel though she be, thy Love
+    Sighs and suffers, waits and watches--joyless 'mid those joys above.
+
+    Krishna, till them come unto her, with the comfort of thy kiss
+    Deeper than thy loss, O Krishna! must be loss of Radha's bliss.
+
+    Krishna, while thou didst forget her--her, thy life, thy gentle fate--
+    Wonderful her waiting was, her pity sweet, her patience great.
+
+    Krishna, come! 'tis grief untold to grieve her--shame to let her sigh;
+    Come, for she is sick with love, and thou her only remedy.
+
+           _So she sang, and Jayadeva
+            Prays for all, and prays for ever.
+            That Great Hari may bestow
+            Utmost bliss of loving so
+            On us all;--that one who wore
+            The herdsman's form, and heretofore,
+            To save the shepherd's threatened flock,
+            Up from the earth reared the huge rock--
+            Bestow it with a gracious hand,
+            Albeit, amid the woodland band,
+            Clinging close in fond caresses
+            Krishna gave them ardent kisses,
+            Taking on his lips divine
+            Earthly stamp and woodland sign._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_
+SNIGDHAMADHUSUDANO).
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE FIFTH._
+
+SAKANDKSHAPUNDARIKAKSHO.
+
+THE LONGINGS OF KRISHNA.
+
+
+    "Say I am here! oh, if she pardons me,
+    Say where I am, and win her softly hither."
+    So Krishna to the maid; and willingly
+    She came again to Radha, and she sang:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ DESHIVARADI _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
+
+    Low whispers the wind from Malaya
+      Overladen with love;
+    On the hills all the grass is burned yellow;
+      And the trees in the grove
+    Droop with tendrils that mock by their clinging
+      The thoughts of the parted;
+    And there lies, sore-sighing for thee,
+      Thy love, altered-hearted.
+
+    To him the moon's icy-chill silver
+      Is a sun at midday;
+    The fever he burns with is deeper
+      Than starlight can stay:
+    Like one who falls stricken by arrows,
+      With the colour departed
+    From all but his red wounds, so lies
+      Thy love, bleeding-hearted.
+
+    To the music the banded bees make him
+      He closeth his ear;
+    In the blossoms their small horns are blowing
+      The honey-song clear;
+    But as if every sting to his bosom
+      Its smart had imparted,
+    Low lies by the edge of the river,
+      Thy love, aching-hearted.
+
+    By the edge of the river, far wandered
+      From his once beloved bowers,
+    And the haunts of his beautiful playmates,
+      And the beds strewn with flowers;
+    Now thy name is his playmate--that only!--
+      And the hard rocks upstarted
+    From the sand make the couch where he lies,
+      Thy Krishna, sad-hearted.
+
+           _Oh may Hari fill each soul,
+            As these gentle verses roll
+            Telling of the anguish borne
+            By kindred ones asunder torn!
+            Oh may Hari unto each
+            All the lore of loving teach,
+            All the pain and all the bliss;
+            Jayadeva prayeth this!_
+
+    Yea, Lady! in the self-same spot he waits
+    Where with thy kiss thou taught'st him utmost love,
+    And drew him, as none else draws, with thy look;
+    And all day long, and all night long, his cry
+    Is "Radha, Radha," like a spell said o'er:
+
+    And in his heart there lives no wish nor hope
+    Save only this, to slake his spirit's thirst
+    For Radha's love with Radha's lips; and find
+    Peace on the immortal beauty of thy breast.
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARI _and the Mode_ EKATALI.)
+
+    Mistress, sweet and bright and holy!
+      Meet him in that place;
+    Change his cheerless melancholy
+      Into joy and grace;
+    If thou hast forgiven, vex not;
+      If thou lovest, go,
+    Watching ever by the river,
+      Krishna listens low:
+
+    Listens low, and on his reed there
+      Softly sounds thy name,
+    Making even mute things plead there
+      For his hope: 'tis shame
+    That, while winds are welcome to him,
+      If from thee they blow,
+    Mournful ever by the river
+      Krishna waits thee so!
+
+    When a bird's wing stirs the roses,
+      When a leaf falls dead,
+    Twenty times he recomposes
+      The flower-seat he has spread:
+    Twenty times, with anxious glances
+      Seeking thee in vain,
+    Sighing ever by the river,
+      Krishna droops again.
+
+    Loosen from thy foot the bangle,
+      Lest its golden bell,
+    With a tiny, tattling jangle,
+      Any false tale tell:
+    If thou fearest that the moonlight
+      Will thy glad face know,
+    Draw those dark braids lower, Lady!
+      But to Krishna go.
+
+    Swift and still as lightning's splendour
+      Let thy beauty come,
+    Sudden, gracious, dazzling, tender,
+      To his arms--its home.
+    Swift as Indra's yellow lightning,
+      Shining through the night,
+    Glide to Krishna's lonely bosom,
+      Take him love and light.
+
+    Grant, at last, love's utmost measure,
+      Giving, give the whole;
+    Keep back nothing of the treasure
+      Of thy priceless soul:
+    Hold with both hands out unto him
+      Thy chalice, let him drain
+    The nectar of its dearest draught,
+      Till not a wish remain.
+
+    Only go--the stars are setting,
+      And thy Krishna grieves;
+    Doubt and anger quite forgetting,
+      Hasten through the leaves:
+    Wherefore didst thou lead him heav'nward
+      But for this thing's sake?
+    Comfort him with pity, Radha!
+      Or his heart must break.
+
+            _But while Jayadeva writes
+            This rare tale of deep delights--
+            Jayadev, whose heart is given
+            Unto Hari, Lord in Heaven--
+            See that ye too, as ye read,
+            With a glad and humble heed,
+            Bend your brows before His face,
+            That ye may have bliss and grace._
+
+    And then the Maid, compassionate, sang on--
+
+                Lady, most sweet!
+                For thy coming feet
+    He listens in the wood, with love sore-tried;
+                Faintly sighing,
+                Like one a-dying,
+    He sends his thoughts afoot to meet his bride.
+
+                Ah, silent one!
+                Sunk is the sun,
+    The darkness falls as deep as Krishna's sorrow;
+                The chakor's strain
+                Is not more vain
+    Than mine, and soon gray dawn will bring white morrow.
+
+                And thine own bliss
+                Delays by this;
+    The utmost of thy heaven comes only so
+                When, with hearts beating
+                And passionate greeting,
+    Parting is over, and the parted grow.
+
+                One--one for ever!
+                And the old endeavour
+    To be so blended is assuaged at last;
+                And the glad tears raining
+                Have nought remaining
+    Of doubt or 'plaining; and the dread has passed.
+
+                Out of each face,
+                In the close embrace,
+    That by-and-by embracing will be over;
+                The ache that causes
+                Those mournful pauses
+    In bowers of earth between lover and lover:
+
+                To be no more felt,
+                To fade, to melt
+    In the strong certainty of joys immortal;
+                In the glad meeting,
+                And quick sweet greeting
+    Of lips that close beyond Time's shadowy portal.
+
+                And to thee is given,
+                Angel of Heaven!
+    This glory and this joy with Krishna. Go!
+                Let him attain,
+                For his long pain,
+    The prize it promised,--see thee coming slow,
+
+                A vision first, but then--
+                By glade and glen--
+    A lovely, loving soul, true to its home;
+                His Queen--his Crown--his All,
+                Hast'ning at last to fall
+    Upon his breast, and live there. Radha, come!
+
+            _Come! and come thou, Lord of all,
+            Unto whom the Three Worlds call;
+            Thou, that didst in angry might,
+            Kansa, like a comet, smite;
+            Thou, that in thy passion tender,
+            As incarnate spell and splendour,
+            Hung on Radha's glorious face--
+            In the garb of Krishna's grace--
+            As above the bloom the bee,
+            When the honeyed revelry
+            Is too subtle-sweet an one
+            Not to hang and dally on;
+            Thou that art the Three Worlds' glory,
+            Of life the light, of every story
+            The meaning and the mark, of love
+            The root and, flower, o' the sky above
+            The blue, of bliss the heart, of those,
+            The lovers, that which did impose
+            The gentle law, that each should be
+            The other's Heav'n and harmony._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_
+SAKANDKSILAPUNDARIKAKSHO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE SIXTH._
+
+DHRISHTAVAIKUNTO.
+
+KRISHNA MADE BOLDER.
+
+
+    But seeing that, for all her loving will,
+    The flower-soft feet of Radha had not power
+    To leave their place and go, she sped again--
+    That maiden--and to Krishna's eager ears
+    Told how it fared with his sweet mistress there.
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GONDAKIRI _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
+
+    Krishna! 'tis thou must come, (she sang)
+      Ever she waits thee in heavenly bower;
+    The lotus seeks not the wandering bee,
+      The bee must find the flower.
+
+    All the wood over her deep eyes roam,
+      Marvelling sore where tarries the bee,
+    Who leaves such lips of nectar unsought
+      As those that blossom for thee.
+
+    Her steps would fail if she tried to come,
+      Would falter and fail, with yearning weak;
+    At the first of the road they would falter and pause,
+      And the way is strange to seek.
+
+    Find her where she is sitting, then,
+      With lotus-blossom on ankle and arm
+    Wearing thine emblems, and musing of nought
+      But the meeting to be--glad, warm.
+
+    To be--"but wherefore tarrieth he?"
+      "What can stay or delay him?--go!
+    See if the soul of Krishna comes,"
+      Ten times she sayeth to me so;
+
+    Ten times lost in a languorous swoon,
+      "Now he cometh--he cometh," she cries;
+    And a love-look lightens her eyes in the gloom,
+      And the darkness is sweet with her sighs.
+
+    Till, watching in vain, she glideth again
+      Under the shade of the whispering leaves;
+    With a heart too full of its love at last
+      To heed how her bosom heaves.
+
+          _Shall not these fair verses swell
+          The number of the wise who dwell
+          In the realm of Kama's bliss?
+          Jayadeva prayeth this,
+          Jayadev, the bard of Love,
+          Servant of the Gods above._
+
+    For all so strong in Heaven itself
+      Is Love, that Radha sits drooping there,
+    Her beautiful bosoms panting with thought,
+      And the braids drawn back from her ear.
+
+    And--angel albeit--her rich lips breathe
+      Sighs, if sighs were ever so sweet;
+    And--if spirits can tremble--she trembles now
+      From forehead to jewelled feet.
+
+    And her voice of music sinks to a sob,
+      And her eyes, like eyes of a mated roe,
+    Are tender with looks of yielded love,
+      With dreams dreamed long ago;
+
+    Long--long ago, but soon to grow truth,
+      To end, and be waking and certain and true;
+    Of which dear surety murmur her lips,
+      As the lips of sleepers do:
+
+    And, dreaming, she loosens her girdle-pearls,
+      And opens her arms to the empty air,
+    Then starts, if a leaf of the champak falls,
+      Sighing, "O leaf! Is he there?"
+
+    Why dost thou linger in this dull spot,
+      Haunted by serpents and evil for thee?
+    Why not hasten to Nanda's House?
+      It is plain, if thine eyes could see.
+
+        _May these words of high endeavour--
+        Full of grace and gentle favour--
+        Find out those whose hearts can feel
+        What the message did reveal,
+        Words that Radha's messenger
+        Unto Krishna took from her,
+        Slowly guiding him to come
+        Through the forest to his home,
+        Guiding him to find the road
+        Which led--though long--to Love's abode._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_
+DHRISHTAVAIKUNTO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE SEVENTH._
+
+VIPRALABDHAVARNANE NAGARANARAYANO.
+
+KRISHNA SUPPOSED FALSE.
+
+
+    Meantime the moon, the rolling moon, clomb high,
+    And over all Vrindavana it shone;
+    The moon which on the front of gentle night
+    Gleams like the chundun-mark on beauty's brow;
+    The conscious moon which hath its silver face
+    Marred with the shame of lighting earthly loves:
+
+      And while the round white lamp of earth rose higher,
+    And still he tarried, Radha, petulant,
+    Sang soft impatience and half-earnest fears:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ MALAVA _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    'Tis time!--he comes not!--will he come?
+      Can he leave me thus to pine?
+    _Yami he kam sharanam!_
+      Ah! what refuge then is mine?
+
+    For his sake I sought the wood,
+      Threaded dark and devious ways;
+    _Yami he kam sharanam!_
+      Can it be Krishna betrays?
+
+    Let me die then, and forget
+      Anguish, patience, hope, and fear;
+    _Yami he kam sharanam!_
+      Ah, why have I held him dear?
+
+    Ah, this soft night torments me,
+      Thinking that his faithless arms--
+    _Yami he kam sharanam!_--
+      Clasp some shadow of my charms.
+
+    Fatal shadow--foolish mock!
+      When the great love shone confessed;--
+    _Yami he kam sharanam!_
+      Krishna's lotus loads my breast;
+
+    'Tis too heavy, lacking him;
+      Like a broken flower I am--
+    Necklets, jewels, what are ye?
+      _Yami he kam sharanam!_
+
+    _Yami he kam sharanam!_
+      The sky is still, the forest sleeps;
+    Krishna forgets--he loves no more;
+      He fails in faith, and Radha weeps.
+
+        _But the poet Jayadev--
+        He who is great Hari's slave,
+        He who finds asylum sweet
+        Only at great Hari's feet;
+        He who for your comfort sings
+        All this to the Vina's strings--
+        Prays that Radha's tender moan
+        In your hearts be thought upon,
+        And that all her holy grace
+        Live there like the loved one's face._
+
+    Yet, if I wrong him! (sang she)--can he fail?
+      Could any in the wood win back his kisses?
+    Could any softest lips of earth prevail
+      To hold him from my arms? any love-blisses
+
+    Blind him once more to mine? O Soul, my prize!
+      Art thou not merely hindered at this hour?
+    Sore-wearied, wandering, lost? how otherwise
+      Shouldst thou not hasten to the bridal-bower?
+
+    But seeing far away that Maiden come
+    Alone, with eyes cast down and lingering steps,
+    Again a little while she feared to hear
+    Of Krishna false; and her quick thoughts took shape
+    In a fine jealousy, with words like these--
+
+      Something then of earth has held him
+        From his home above,
+      Some one of those slight deceivers--
+        Ah, my foolish love!
+
+    Some new face, some winsome playmate,
+      With her hair untied,
+    And the blossoms tangled in it,
+      Woos him to her side.
+
+    On the dark orbs of her bosom--
+      Passionately heaved--
+    Sink and rise the warm, white pearl-strings,
+      Oh, my love deceived!
+
+    Fair? yes, yes! the rippled shadow
+      Of that midnight hair
+    Shows above her brow--as clouds do
+      O'er the moon--most fair:
+
+    And she knows, with wilful paces,
+      How to make her zone
+    Gleam and please him; and her ear-rings
+      Tinkle love; and grown
+
+    Coy as he grows fond, she meets him
+      With a modest show;
+    Shaming truth with truthful seeming,
+      While her laugh--light, low--
+
+    And her subtle mouth that murmurs.
+      And her silken cheek,
+    And her eyes, say she dissembles
+      Plain as speech could speak.
+
+    Till at length, a fatal victress,
+      Of her triumph vain,
+    On his neck she lies and smiles there:--
+      Ah, my Joy!--my Pain!
+
+          _But may Radha's fond annoy,
+          And may Krishna's dawning joy,
+          Warm and waken love more fit--
+          Jayadeva prayeth it--
+          And the griefs and sins assuage
+          Of this blind and evil age._
+
+    O Moon! (she sang) that art so pure and pale,
+      Is Krishna wan like thee with lonely waiting?
+    O lamp of love! art thou the lover's friend,
+      And wilt not bring him, my long pain abating?
+    O fruitless moon! thou dost increase my pain
+    O faithless Krishna! I have striven in vain.
+    And then, lost in her fancies sad, she moaned--
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARI _and the Mode_ EKATALI)
+
+            In vain, in vain!
+    Earth will of earth! I mourn more than I blame;
+      If he had known, he would not sit and paint
+    The tilka on her smooth black brow, nor claim
+      Quick kisses from her yielded lips--false, faint--
+    False, fragrant, fatal! Krishna's quest is o'er
+            By Jumna's shore!
+
+            Vain--it was vain!
+    The temptress was too near, the heav'n too far;
+      I can but weep because he sits and ties
+    Garlands of fire-flowers for her loosened hair,
+      And in its silken shadow veils his eyes
+    And buries his fond face. Yet I forgave
+            By Jumna's wave!
+
+            Vainly! all vain!
+    Make then the most of that whereto thou'rt given,
+      Feign her thy Paradise--thy Love of loves;
+    Say that her eyes are stars, her face the heaven,
+      Her bosoms the two worlds, with sandal-groves
+    Full-scented, and the kiss-marks--ah, thy dream
+            By Jumna's stream!
+
+            It shall be vain!
+    And vain to string the emeralds on her arm,
+      And hang the milky pearls upon her neck,
+    Saying they are not jewels, but a swarm
+      Of crowded, glossy bees, come there to suck
+    The rosebuds of her breast, the sweetest flowers
+            Of Jumna's bowers.
+
+            That shall be vain!
+    Nor wilt thou so believe thine own blind wooing,
+      Nor slake thy heart's thirst even with the cup
+    Which at the last she brims for thee, undoing
+      Her girdle of carved gold, and yielding up,
+    Love's uttermost: brief the poor gain and pride
+            By Jumna's tide
+
+            Because still vain
+    Is love that feeds on shadow; vain, as thou dost,
+      To look so deep into the phantom eyes
+    For that which lives not there; and vain, as thou must,
+      To marvel why the painted pleasure flies,
+    When the fair, false wings seemed folded for ever
+            By Jumna's river.
+
+            And vain! yes, vain!
+    For me too is it, having so much striven,
+      To see this slight snare take thee, and thy soul
+    Which should have climbed to mine, and shared my heaven,
+      Spent on a lower loveliness, whose whole
+    Passion of claim were but a parody
+            Of that kept here for thee.
+
+            Ahaha! vain!
+    For on some isle of Jumna's silver stream
+      He gives all that they ask to those hard eyes,
+    While mine which are his angel's, mine which gleam
+      With light that might have led him to the skies--
+    That almost led him--are eclipsed with tears
+            Wailing my fruitless prayers.
+
+            But thou, good Friend,
+    Hang not thy head for shame, nor come so slowly,
+      As one whose message is too ill to tell;
+    If thou must say Krishna is forfeit wholly--
+      Wholly forsworn and lost--let the grief dwell
+    Where the sin doth,--except in this sad heart,
+            Which cannot shun its part.
+
+          _O great Hari! purge from wrong
+          The soul of him who writes this song;
+          Purge the souls of those that read
+          From every fault of thought and deed;
+          With thy blessed light assuage
+          The darkness of this evil age!
+          Jayadev the bard of love,
+          Servant of the Gods above,
+          Prays it for himself and you--
+          Gentle hearts who listen!--too._
+
+    Then in this other strain she wailed his loss--
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ DESHAVARADI _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
+
+    She, not Radha, wins the crown
+      Whose false lips seemed dearest;
+    What was distant gain to him
+      When sweet loss stood nearest?
+    Love her, therefore, lulled to loss
+      On her fatal bosom;
+    Love her with such love as she
+      Can give back in the blossom.
+
+    Love her, O thou rash lost soul!
+      With thy thousand graces;
+    Coin rare thoughts into fair words
+      For her face of faces;
+    Praise it, fling away for it
+      Life's purpose in a sigh,
+    All for those lips like flower-leaves,
+      And lotus-dark deep eye.
+
+    Nay, and thou shalt be happy too
+      Till the fond dream is over;
+    And she shall taste delight to hear
+      The wooing of her lover;
+    The breeze that brings the sandal up
+      From distant green Malay,
+    Shall seem all fragrance in the night,
+      All coolness in the day.
+
+    The crescent moon shall seem to swim
+      Only that she may see
+    The glad eyes of my Krishna gleam,
+      And her soft glances he:
+    It shall be as a silver lamp
+      Set in the sky to show
+    The rose-leaf palms that cling and clasp,
+      And the breast that beats below.
+
+    The thought of parting shall not lie
+      Cold on their throbbing lives,
+    The dread of ending shall not chill
+      The glow beginning gives;
+    She in her beauty dark shall look--
+      As long as clouds can be--
+    As gracious as the rain-time cloud
+      Kissing the shining sea.
+
+    And he, amid his playmates old,
+      At least a little while,
+    Shall not breathe forth again the sigh
+      That spoils the song and smile;
+    Shall be left wholly to his choice,
+      Free for his pleasant sin,
+    With the golden-girdled damsels
+      Of the bowers I found him in.
+
+    For me, his Angel, only
+      The sorrow and the smart,
+    The pale grief sitting on the brow,
+      The dead hope in the heart;
+    For me the loss of losing,
+      For me the ache and dearth;
+    My king crowned with the wood-flowers!
+      My fairest upon earth!
+
+         _Hari, Lord and King of love!
+          From thy throne of light above
+          Stoop to help us, deign to take
+          Our spirits to thee for the sake
+          Of this song, which speaks the fears
+          Of all who weep with Radha's tears._
+
+    But love is strong to pardon, slow to part,
+    And still the Lady, in her fancies, sang--
+            Wind of the Indian stream!
+    A little--oh! a little--breathe once more
+    The fragrance like his mouth's! blow from thy shore
+      One last word as he fades into a dream;
+
+            Bodiless Lord of love!
+    Show him once more to me a minute's space,
+    My Krishna, with the love-look in his face,
+      And then I come to my own place above;
+
+            I will depart and give
+    All back to Fate and her: I will submit
+    To thy stern will, and bow myself to it,
+      Enduring still, though desolate, to live:
+
+            If it indeed be life,
+    Even so resigning, to sit patience-mad,
+    To feel the zephyrs burn, the sunlight sad,
+      The peace of holy heaven, a restless strife.
+
+            Haho! what words are these?
+    How can I live and lose him? how not go
+    Whither love draws me for a soul loved so?
+      How yet endure such sorrow?--or how cease?
+
+            Wind of the Indian wave!
+    If that thou canst, blow poison here, not nard;
+    God of the five shafts! shoot thy sharpest hard,
+      And kill me, Radha,--Radha who forgave!
+
+            Or, bitter River,
+    Yamun! be Yama's sister! be Death's kin!
+    Swell thy wave up to me and gulf me in,
+      Cooling this cruel, burning pain for ever.
+
+           _Ah! if only visions stir
+            Grief so passionate in her,
+            What divine grief will not take,
+            Spirits in heaven for the sake
+            Of those who miss love? Oh, be wise!
+            Mark this story of the skies;
+            Meditate Govinda ever,
+            Sitting by the sacred river,
+            The mystic stream, which o'er his feet
+            Glides slow, with murmurs low and sweet,
+            Till none can tell whether those be
+            Blue lotus-blooms, seen veiledly
+            Under the wave, or mirrored gems
+            Reflected from the diadems
+            Bound on the brows of mighty Gods,
+            Who lean from out their pure abodes,
+            And leave their bright felicities
+            To guide great Krishna to his sides._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_
+VIPRALABDHAVARNANE NAGARANARAYANO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE EIGHTH._
+
+KHANDITAVARNANE VILAKSHALAKSHMIPATI.
+
+THE REBUKING OF KRISHNA.
+
+
+    For when the weary night had worn away
+    In these vain fears, and the clear morning broke,
+    Lo, Krishna! lo, the longed-for of her soul
+    Came too!--in the glad light he came, and bent
+    His knee, and clasped his hands; on his dumb lips
+    Fear, wonder, joy, passion, and reverence
+    Strove for the trembling words, and Radha knew
+    Peace won for him and her; yet none the less
+    A little time she eluded him, and sang:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ BHAIRAVI _and the Mode_ YATI)
+
+    Krishna!--then thou hast found me!--and thine eyes
+      Heavy and sad and stained, as if with weeping!
+    Ah! is it not that those, which were thy prize,
+      So radiant seemed that all night thou wert keeping
+    Vigils of tender wooing?--have thy Love!
+      Here is no place for vows broken in making;
+    Thou Lotus-eyed! thou soul for whom I strove!
+      Go! ere I listen, my just mind forsaking.
+
+    Krishna! my Krishna with the woodland-wreath!
+      Return, or I shall soften as I blame;
+    The while thy very lips are dark to the teeth
+      With dye that from her lids and lashes came,
+    Left on the mouth I touched. Fair traitor! go!
+      Say not they darkened, lacking food and sleep
+    Long waiting for my face; I turn it--so--
+      Go! ere I half believe thee, pleading deep;
+
+    But wilt thou plead, when, like a love-verse printed
+      On the smooth polish of an emerald,
+    I see the marks she stamped, the kisses dinted
+      Large-lettered, by her lips? thy speech withheld
+    Speaks all too plainly; go,--abide thy choice!
+      If thou dost stay, I shall more greatly grieve thee;
+    Not records of her victory?--peace, dear voice!
+      Hence with that godlike brow, lest I believe thee.
+
+    For dar'st thou feign the saffron on thy bosom
+      Was not implanted in disloyal embrace?
+    Or that this many-coloured love-tree blossom
+      Shone not, but yesternight, above her face?
+    Comest thou here, so late, to be forgiven,
+      O thou, in whose eyes Truth was made to live?
+    O thou, so worthy else of grace and heaven?
+      O thou, so nearly won? Ere I forgive,
+
+    Go, Krishna! go!--lest I should think, unwise,
+      Thy heart not false, as thy long lingering seems,
+    Lest, seeing myself so imaged in thine eyes,
+      I shame the name of Pity--turn to dreams
+    The sacred sound of vows; make Virtue grudge
+      Her praise to Mercy, calling thy sin slight;
+    Go therefore, dear offender! go! thy Judge
+      Had best not see thee to give sentence right.
+
+        _But may he grant us peace at last and bliss
+         Who heard,--and smiled to hear,--delays like this,
+         Delays that dallied with a dream come true,
+         Fond wilful angers; for the maid laughed too
+         To see, as Radha ended, her hand take
+         His dark role for her veil, and[2] Krishna make
+         The word she spoke for parting kindliest sign
+         He should not go, but stay. O grace divine,
+         Be ours too! Jayadev, the Poet of love,
+         Prays it from Hari, lordliest above._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_
+KHANDITAVARNANE VILAKSHALAKSHMIPATI.)
+
+[Footnote 2: The text here is not closely followed.]
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE NINTH._
+
+KALAHANTARITAVARNANE MUGDHAMUKUNDO.
+
+THE END OF KRISHNA'S TRIAL.
+
+
+    Yet not quite did the doubts of Radha die,
+    Nor her sweet brows unbend; but she, the Maid--
+    Knowing her heart so tender, her soft arms
+    Aching to take him in, her rich mouth sad
+    For the comfort of his kiss, and these fears false--
+    Spake yet a little in fair words like these:
+
+_(What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARI _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    The lesson that thy faithful love has taught him
+                  He has heard;
+    The wind of spring, obeying thee, hath brought him
+                  At thy word;
+    What joy in all the three worlds was so precious
+                  To thy mind?
+    _Ma kooroo manini manamaye_,[3]
+                  Ah, be kind!
+
+[Footnote 3: My proud one! do not indulge in scorn.]
+
+    No longer from his earnest eyes conceal
+                  Thy delights;
+    Lift thy face, and let the jealous veil reveal
+                  All his rights;
+    The glory of thy beauty was but given
+                  For content;
+    _Ma kooroo manini manamaye_,
+                  Oh, relent!
+
+    Remember, being distant, how he bore thee
+                  In his heart;
+    Look on him sadly turning from before thee
+                  To depart;
+    Is he not the soul thou lovedst, sitting lonely
+                  In the wood?
+    _Ma kooroo manini manamaye_,
+                  'Tis not good!
+
+    He who grants thee high delight in bridal-bower
+                  Pardons long;
+    What the gods do love may do at such an hour
+                  Without wrong;
+    Why weepest thou? why keepest thou in anger
+                  Thy lashes down?
+    _Ma kooroo manini manamaye_,
+                  Do not frown!
+
+    Lift thine eyes now, and look on him, bestowing,
+                  Without speech;
+    Let him pluck at last the flower so sweetly growing
+                  In his reach;
+    The fruit of lips, of loving tones, of glances
+                  That forgive;
+    _Ma kooroo manini manamaye_,
+                  Let him live!
+
+    Let him speak with thee, and pray to thee, and prove thee
+                  All his truth;
+    Let his silent loving lamentation move thee
+                  Asking ruth;
+    How knowest thou? All, listen, dearest Lady,
+                  He is there;
+    _Ma kooroo manini manamaye_,
+                  Thou must hear!
+
+           _O rare voice, which is a spell
+            Unto all on earth who dwell!
+            O rich voice, of rapturous love,
+            Making melody above!
+            Krishna's, Hari's--one in two,
+            Sound these mortal verses through!
+            Sound like that soft flute which made
+            Such a magic in the shade--
+            Calling deer-eyed maidens nigh,
+            Waking wish and stirring sigh,
+            Thrilling blood and melting breasts,
+            Whispering love's divine unrests,
+            Winning blessings to descend,
+            Bringing earthly ills to end;--
+            Me thou heard in this song now
+            Thou, the great Enchantment, thou!_
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_
+KALAHANTARITAVARNANE MUGDHAMUKUNDO.)
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE TENTH._
+
+MANINIVARNANE CHATURACHATURBHUJO.
+
+KRISHNA IN PARADISE.
+
+
+    But she, abasing still her glorious eyes,
+    And still not yielding all her face to him,
+    Relented; till with softer upturned look
+    She smiled, while the Maid pleaded; so thereat
+    Came Krishna nearer, and his eager lips
+    Mixed sighs with words in this fond song he sang:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ DESHIYAVARADI _and the Mode_
+ASHTATALI.)
+
+    O angel of my hope! O my heart's home!
+      My fear is lost in love, my love in fear;
+    This bids me trust my burning wish, and come,
+      That checks me with its memories, drawing near:
+    Lift up thy look, and let the thing it saith
+    End fear with grace, or darken love to death.
+
+    Or only speak once more, for though thou slay me,
+      Thy heavenly mouth must move, and I shall hear
+    Dulcet delights of perfect music sway me
+      Again--again that voice so blest and dear;
+    Sweet Judge! the prisoner prayeth for his doom
+    That he may hear his fate divinely come.
+
+    Speak once more! then thou canst not choose but show
+      Thy mouth's unparalleled and honeyed wonder
+    Where, like pearls hid in red-lipped shells, the row
+      Of pearly teeth thy rose-red lips lie under;
+    Ah me! I am that bird that woos the moon,
+    And pipes--poor fool! to make it glitter soon.
+
+    Yet hear me on--because I cannot stay
+      The passion of my soul, because my gladness
+    Will pour forth from my heart;--since that far day
+      When through the mist of all my sin and sadness
+    Thou didst vouchsafe--Surpassing One!--to break,
+    All else I slighted for thy noblest sake.
+
+    Thou, thou hast been my blood, my breath, my being;
+      The pearl to plunge for in the sea of life;
+    The sight to strain for, past the bounds of seeing;
+      The victory to win through longest strife;
+    My Queen! my crowned Mistress! my sphered bride!
+    Take this for truth, that what I say beside.
+
+    Of bold love--grown full-orbed at sight of thee--
+      May be forgiven with a quick remission;
+    For, thou divine fulfilment of all hope!
+      Thou all-undreamed completion of the vision!
+    I gaze upon thy beauty, and my fear
+    Passes as clouds do, when the moon shines clear.
+
+    So if thou'rt angry still, this shall avail,
+      Look straight at me, and let thy bright glance wound me;
+    Fetter me! gyve me! lock me in the gaol
+      Of thy delicious arms; make fast around me
+    The silk-soft manacles of wrists and hands,
+    Then kill me! I shall never break those bands.
+
+    The starlight jewels flashing on thy breast
+      Have not my right to hear thy beating heart;
+    The happy jasmine-buds that clasp thy waist
+      Are soft usurpers of my place and part;
+    If that fair girdle only there must shine,
+    Give me the girdle's life--the girdle mine!
+
+    Thy brow like smooth Bandhuka-leaves; thy cheek
+      Which the dark-tinted Madhuk's velvet shows;
+    Thy long-lashed Lotus eyes, lustrous and meek;
+      Thy nose a Tila-bud; thy teeth like rows
+    Of Kunda-petals! he who pierceth hearts
+    Points with thy lovelinesses all five darts.
+
+    But Radiant, Perfect, Sweet, Supreme, forgive!
+      My heart is wise--my tongue is foolish still:
+    I know where I am come--I know I live--
+      I know that thou art Radha--that this will
+    Last and be heaven: that I have leave to rise
+    Up from thy feet, and look into thine eyes!
+
+    And, nearer coming, I ask for grace
+      Now that the blest eyes turn to mine;
+    Faithful I stand in this sacred place
+      Since first I saw them shine:
+    Dearest glory that stills my voice,
+      Beauty unseen, unknown, unthought!
+    Splendour of love, in whose sweet light
+      Darkness is past and nought;
+    Ah, beyond words that sound on earth,
+      Golden bloom of the garden of heaven!
+    Radha, enchantress! Radha, the queen!
+      Be this trespass forgiven--
+    In that I dare, with courage too much
+      And a heart afraid,--so bold it is grown--
+    To hold thy hand with a bridegroom's touch,
+      And take thee for mine, mine own.[4]
+
+           _So they met and so they ended
+            Pain and parting, being blended
+            Life with life--made one for ever
+            In high love; and Jayadeva
+            Hasteneth on to close the story
+            Of their bridal grace and glory._
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_
+MANINIVARNANE CHATURACHATURBHUJO.)
+
+[Footnote 4: Much here also is necessarily paraphrased.]
+
+
+
+
+_SARGA THE ELEVENTH._
+
+RADHIKAMILANE SANANDADAMODARO.
+
+THE UNION OF RADHA AND KRISHNA.
+
+
+    Thus followed soft and lasting peace, and griefs
+    Died while she listened to his tender tongue,
+    Her eyes of antelope alight with love;
+    And while he led the way to the bride-bower
+    The maidens of her train adorned her fair
+    With golden marriage-cloths, and sang this song:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ VASANTA _and the Mode_ YATI.)
+
+    Follow, happy Radha! follow,--
+      In the quiet falling twilight--
+    The steps of him who followed thee
+      So steadfastly and far;
+    Let us bring thee where the banjulas
+      Have spread a roof of crimson,
+    Lit up by many a marriage-lamp
+      Of planet, sun, and star:
+    For the hours of doubt are over,
+      And thy glad and faithful lover
+    Hath found the road by tears and prayers
+      To thy divinest side;
+    And thou wilt not now deny him
+      One delight of all thy beauty,
+    But yield up open-hearted
+      His pearl, his prize, his bride.
+
+    Oh, follow! while we fill the air
+      With songs and softest music;
+    Lauding thy wedded loveliness,
+      Dear Mistress past compare!
+    For there is not any splendour
+      Of Apsarasas immortal--
+    No glory of their beauty rich--
+      But Radha has a share;
+    Oh, follow! while we sing the song
+      That fills the worlds with longing,
+    The music of the Lord of love
+      Who melts all hearts with bliss;
+    For now is born the gladness
+      That springs from mortal sadness,
+    And all soft thoughts and things and hopes
+      Were presages of this.
+
+    Then, follow, happiest Lady!
+      Follow him thou lovest wholly;
+    The hour is come to follow now
+      The soul thy spells have led;
+    His are thy breasts like jasper-cups,
+      And his thine eyes like planets;
+    Thy fragrant hair, thy stately neck,
+      Thy queenly sumptuous head;
+    Thy soft small feet, thy perfect lips,
+      Thy teeth like jasmine petals,
+    Thy gleaming rounded shoulders,
+      And long caressing arms,
+    Being thine to give, are his; and his
+     The twin strings of thy girdle,
+    And his the priceless treasure
+      Of thine utter-sweetest charms.
+
+    So follow! while the flowers break forth
+      In white and amber clusters,
+    At the breath of thy pure presence,
+      And the radiance on thy brow;
+    Oh, follow where the Asokas wave
+      Their sprays of gold and purple,
+    As if to beckon thee the way
+      That Krishna passed but now;
+    He is gone a little forward!
+      Though thy steps are faint for pleasure,
+    Let him hear the tattling ripple
+      Of the bangles round thy feet;
+    Moving slowly o'er the blossoms
+      On the path which he has shown thee,
+    That when he turns to listen
+      It may make his fond heart beat.
+
+    And loose thy jewelled girdle
+      A little, that its rubies
+    May tinkle softest music too,
+      And whisper thou art near;
+    Though now, if in the forest
+      Thou should'st bend one blade of Kusha
+    With silken touch of passing foot,
+      His heart would know and hear;
+    Would hear the wood-buds saying,
+      "It is Radha's foot that passes;"
+    Would hear the wind sigh love-sick,
+      "It is Radha's fragrance, this;"
+    Would hear thine own heart beating
+      Within thy panting bosom,
+    And know thee coming, coming,
+      His--ever,--ever--his!
+
+    "_Mine_! "--hark! we are near enough for hearing--
+      "_Soon she will come--she will smile--she will say
+    Honey-sweet words of heavenly endearing;
+      O soul! listen; my Bride is on her way!_"
+
+    Hear'st him not, my Radha?
+      Lo, night bendeth o'er thee--
+    Darker than dark Tamala-leaves--
+      To list thy marriage-song;
+    Dark as the touchstone that tries gold,
+      And see now--on before thee--
+    Those lines of tender light that creep
+      The clouded sky along:
+    O night! that trieth gold of love,
+      This love is proven perfect!
+    O lines that streak the touchstone sky,
+      Plash forth true shining gold!
+    O rose-leaf feet, go boldly!
+      O night!--that lovest lovers--
+    Thy softest robe of silence
+      About these bridals fold!
+
+    See'st thou not, my Radha?
+      Lo, the night, thy bridesmaid,
+    Comes!--her eyes thick-painted
+      With soorma of the gloom--
+    The night that binds the planet-worlds
+      For jewels on her forehead,
+    And for emblem and for garland
+      Loves the blue-black lotus-bloom;
+    The night that scents her breath so sweet
+      With cool and musky odours,
+    That joys to spread her veil of shade
+      Over the limbs of love;
+
+        And when, with loving weary,
+          Yet dreaming love, they slumber,
+        Sets the far stars for silver lamps
+          To light them from above.
+
+    So came she where he stood, awaiting her
+    At the bower's entry, like a god to see,
+    With marriage-gladness and the grace of heaven.
+    The great pearl set upon his glorious head
+    Shone like a moon among the leaves, and shone
+    Like stars the gems that kept her gold gown close:
+    But still a little while she paused--abashed
+    At her delight, of her deep joy afraid--
+    And they that tended her sang once more this:
+
+(_What follows is to the Music_ VARADI _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
+
+    Enter, thrice-happy! enter, thrice-desired!
+    And let the gates of Hari shut thee in
+    With the soul destined to thee from of old.
+
+    Tremble not! lay thy lovely shame aside;
+    Lay it aside with thine unfastened zone,
+    And love him with the love that knows not fear,
+
+    Because it fears not change; enter thou in,
+    Flower of all sweet and stainless womanhood!
+    For ever to grow bright, for ever new;
+
+    Enter beneath the flowers, O flower-fair!
+    Beneath these tendrils, Loveliest! that entwine
+    And clasp, and wreathe and cling, with kissing stems;
+
+    Enter, with tender-blowing airs of heaven,
+    Soft as love's breath and gentle as the tones
+    Of lover's whispers, when the lips come close:
+
+    Enter the house of Love, O loveliest!
+    Enter the marriage-bower, most beautiful!
+    And take and give the joy that Hari grants,
+
+    Thy heart has entered, let thy feet go too!
+    Lo, Krishna! lo, the one that thirsts for thee!
+    Give him the drink of amrit from thy lips.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Then she, no more delaying, entered straight;
+    Her step a little faltered, but her face
+    Shone with unutterable quick love; and--while,
+
+    The music of her bangles passed the porch--
+    Shame, which had lingered in her downcast eyes,
+    Departed shamed[5] ... and like the mighty deep,
+    Which sees the moon and rises, all his life
+    Uprose to drink her beams.
+
+(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_
+RADHIKAMILANE SANANDADAMODARO.)
+
+[Footnote 5: This complete anticipation (_salajja lajjapi_) of the
+line--
+
+    "Upon whose brow shame is ashamed to sit"
+
+--occurs at the close of the Sarga, part of which is here perforce
+omitted, along with the whole of the last one.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Hari keep you! He whose might,
+      On the King of Serpents seated,
+    Flashes forth in dazzling light
+      From the Great Snake's gems repeated:
+    Hari keep you! He whose graces,
+      Manifold in majesty,--
+    Multiplied in heavenly places--
+      Multiply on earth--to see
+    Better with a hundred eyes
+      Her bright charms who by him lies.
+
+     _What skill may be in singing,
+        What worship sound in song,
+      What lore be taught in loving,
+        What right divined from wrong:
+      Such things hath Jayadeva--
+        In this his Hymn of Love,
+      Which lauds Govinda ever,--
+        Displayed; may all approve!_
+
+
+THE END OF THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS
+
+
+
+
+_MISCELLANEOUS ORIENTAL POEMS._
+
+
+
+
+_THE RAJPOOT WIFE._
+
+
+    Sing something, Jymul Rao! for the goats are gathered now,
+      And no more water is to bring;
+    The village-gates are set, and the night is gray as yet,
+      God hath given wondrous fancies to thee:--sing!
+
+    Then Jymul's supple fingers, with a touch that doubts and lingers,
+      Sets athrill the saddest wire of all the six;
+    And the girls sit in a tangle, and hush the tinkling bangle,
+      While the boys pile the flame with store of sticks.
+
+    And vain of village praise, but full of ancient days,
+      He begins with a smile and with a sigh--
+    "Who knows the babul-tree by the bend of the Ravee?"
+      Quoth Gunesh, "I!" and twenty voices, "I!"
+
+    "Well--listen! there below, in the shade of bloom and bough,
+      Is a musjid of carved and coloured stone;
+    And Abdool Shureef Khan--I spit, to name that man!--
+      Lieth there, underneath, all alone.
+
+    "He was Sultan Mahmoud's vassal, and wore an Amir's tassel
+      In his green hadj-turban, at Nungul.
+    Yet the head which went so proud, it is not in his shroud;
+      There are bones in that grave,--but not a skull!
+
+    "And, deep drove in his breast, there moulders with the rest
+      A dagger, brighter once than Chundra's ray;
+    A Rajpoot lohar whet it, and a Rajpoot woman set it
+      Past the power of any hand to tear away.
+
+    "'Twas the Ranee Neila true, the wife of Soorj Dehu,
+      Lord of the Rajpoots of Nourpoor;
+    You shall hear the mournful story, with its sorrow and its glory,
+      And curse Shureef Khan,--the soor!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    All in the wide Five-Waters was none like Soorj Dehu,
+    To foeman who so dreadful, to friend what heart so true?
+
+    Like Indus, through the mountains came down the Muslim ranks,
+    And town-walls fell before them as flooded river-banks;
+
+    But Soorj Dehu the Rajpoot owned neither town nor wall;
+    His house the camp, his roof-tree the sky that covers all;
+
+    His seat of state the saddle; his robe a shirt of mail;
+    His court a thousand Rajpoots close at his stallion's tail.
+
+    Not less was Soorj a Rajah because no crown he wore
+    Save the grim helm of iron with sword-marks dinted o'er;
+
+    Because he grasped no sceptre save the sharp tulwar, made
+    Of steel that fell from heaven,--for 'twas Indra forged that blade!
+    And many a starless midnight the shout of "Soorj Dehu"
+    Broke up with spear and matchlock the Muslim's "Illahu."
+
+    And many a day of battle upon the Muslim proud
+    Tell Soorj, as India's lightning falls from the silent cloud.
+
+    Nor ever shot nor arrow, nor spear nor slinger's stone,
+    Could pierce the mail that Neila the Ranee buckled on:
+
+    But traitor's subtle tongue-thrust through fence of steel can break;
+    And Soorj was taken sleeping, whom none had ta'en awake.
+
+    Then at the noon, in durbar, swore fiercely Shureef Khan
+    That Soorj should die in torment, or live a Mussulman.
+
+    But Soorj laughed lightly at him, and answered, "Work your will!
+    The last breath of my body shall curse your Prophet still."
+
+    With words of insult shameful, and deeds of cruel kind,
+    They vexed that Rajpoot's body, but never moved his mind.
+
+    And one is come who sayeth, "Ho! Rajpoots! Soorj is bound;
+    Your lord is caged and baited by Shureef Khan, the hound.
+
+    "The Khan hath caught and chained him, like a beast, in iron cage,
+    And all the camp of Islam spends on him spite and rage;
+
+    "All day the coward Muslims spend on him rage and spite;
+    If ye have thought to help him, 'twere good ye go to-night."
+
+    Up sprang a hundred horsemen, flashed in each hand a sword;
+    In each heart burned the gladness of dying for their lord;
+
+    Up rose each Rajpoot rider, and buckled on with speed
+    The bridle-chain and breast-cord, and the saddle of his steed.
+
+    But unto none sad Neila gave word to mount and ride;
+    Only she called the brothers of Soorj unto her side,
+
+    And said, "Take order straightway to seek this camp with me;
+    If love and craft can conquer, a thousand is as three.
+
+    "If love be weak to save him, Soorj dies--and ye return,
+    For where a Rajpoot dieth, the Rajpoot widows burn."
+
+    Thereat the Ranee Neila unbraided from her hair
+    The pearls as great as Kashmir grapes Soorj gave his wife to wear,
+
+    And all across her bosoms--like lotus-buds to see--
+    She wrapped the tinselled sari of a dancing Kunchenee;
+
+    And fastened on her ankles the hundred silver bells,
+    To whose light laugh of music the Nautch-girl darts and dwells.
+
+    And all in dress a Nautch-girl, but all in heart a queen,
+    She set her foot to stirrup with a sad and settled mien.
+
+    Only one thing she carried no Kunchenee should bear,
+    The knife between her bosoms;--ho, Shureef! have a care!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Thereat, with running ditty of mingled pride and pity,
+      Jymul Rao makes the six wires sigh;
+    And the girls with tearful eyes note the music's fall and rise,
+      And the boys let the fire fade and die.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    All day lay Soorj the Rajpoot in Shureef's iron cage,
+    All day the coward Muslims spent on him spite and rage.
+
+    With bitter cruel torments, and deeds of shameful kind,
+    They racked and broke his body, but could not shake his mind.
+
+    And only at the Azan, when all their worst was vain,
+    They left him, like dogs slinking from a lion in his pain.
+
+    No meat nor drink they gave him through all that burning day,
+    And done to death, but scornful, at twilight-time he lay.
+
+    So when the gem of Shiva uprose, the shining moon,
+    Soorj spake unto his spirit, "The end is coming soon."
+
+    "I would the end might hasten, could Neila only know--
+    What is that Nautch-girl singing with voice so known and low?
+
+    "Singing beneath the cage-bars the song of love and fear
+    My Neila sang at parting!--what doth that Nautch-girl here?
+
+    "Whence comes she by the music of Neila's tender strain,
+    She, in that shameless tinsel?--O Nautch-girl, sing again!"
+
+    "Ah, Soorj!"--so followed answer--"here thine own Neila stands,
+    Faithful in life and death alike,--look up, and take my hands:
+
+    "Speak low, lest the guard hear us;--to-night, if thou must die,
+    Shureef shall have no triumph, but bear thee company."
+
+    So sang she like the Koil that dies beside its mate;
+    With eye as black and fearless, and love as hot and great.
+
+    Then the Chief laid his pale lips upon the little palm,
+    And sank down with a smile of love, his face all glad and calm;
+
+    And through the cage-bars Neila felt the brave heart stop fast,
+    "O Soorj!"--she cried--"I follow! have patience to the last."
+
+    She turned and went. "Who passes?" challenged the Mussulman;
+    "A Nautch-girl, I."--"What seek'st thou?"--"The presence of the Khan;"
+
+    "Ask if the high chief-captain be pleased to hear me sing;"
+    And Shureef, full of feasting, the Kunchenee bade bring.
+
+    Then, all before the Muslims, aflame with lawless wine,
+    Entered the Ranee Neila, in grace and face divine;
+
+    And all before the Muslims, wagging their goatish chins,
+    The Rajpoot Princess set her to the "bee-dance" that begins,
+
+          "_If my love loved me, he should be a bee,
+            I the yellow champak, love the honey of me._"
+
+    All the wreathed movements danced she of that dance;
+    Not a step she slighted, not a wanton glance;
+
+    In her unveiled bosom chased th' intruding bee,
+    To her waist--and lower--she! a Rajpoot, she!
+
+    Sang the melting music, swayed the languorous limb:
+    Shureef's drunken heart beat--Shureef's eyes waxed dim.
+
+    From his finger Shureef loosed an Ormuz pearl--
+    "By the Prophet," quoth he, "'tis a winsome girl!"
+
+    "Take this ring; and 'prithee, come and have thy pay,
+    I would hear at leisure more of such a lay."
+
+    Glared his eyes on her eyes, passing o'er the plain,
+    Glared at the tent-purdah--never glared again!
+
+    Never opened after unto gaze or glance,
+    Eyes that saw a Rajpoot dance a shameful dance;
+
+    For the kiss she gave him was his first and last--
+    Kiss of dagger, driven to his heart, and past.
+
+    At her feet he wallowed, choked with wicked blood;
+    In his breast the katar quivered where it stood.
+
+    At the hilt his fingers vainly--wildly--try,
+    Then they stiffen feeble;--die! thou slayer, die!
+
+    From his jewelled scabbard drew she Shureef's sword,
+    Cut a-twain the neck-bone of the Muslim lord.
+
+    Underneath the starlight,--sooth, a sight of dread!
+    Like the Goddess Kali, comes she with the head,
+
+    Comes to where her brothers guard their murdered chief;
+    All the camp is silent, but the night is brief.
+
+    At his feet she flings it, flings her burden vile;
+    "Soorj! I keep my promise! Brothers, build the pile!"
+
+    They have built it, set it, all as Rajpoots do
+    From the cage of iron taken Soorj Dehu;
+
+    In the lap of Neila, seated on the pile,
+    Laid his head--she radiant, like a queen the while.
+
+    Then the lamp is lighted, and the ghee is poured--
+    "Soorj, we burn together: O my love, my lord!"
+
+    In the flame and crackle dies her tender tongue,
+    Dies the Ranee, truest, all true wives among.
+
+    At the dawn a clamour runs from tent to tent,
+    Like the wild geese cackling when the night is spent.
+
+    "Shureef Khan lies headless! gone is Soorj Dehu!
+    And the wandering Nautch-girl, who has seen her, who?"
+
+    This but know the sentries, at the "breath of morn"
+    Forth there fared two horsemen, by the first was borne.
+
+    The urn of clay, the vessel that Rajpoots use to bring
+    The ashes of dead kinsmen to Gungas' holy spring.
+
+
+
+
+_KING SALADIN_.
+
+
+    Long years ago--so tells Boccaccio
+    In such Italian gentleness of speech
+    As finds no echo in this northern air
+    To counterpart its music--long ago,
+    When Saladin was Soldan of the East,
+    The kings let cry a general crusade;
+    And to the trysting-plains of Lombardy
+    The idle lances of the North and West
+    Rode all that spring, as all the spring runs down
+    Into a lake, from all its hanging hills,
+    The clash and glitter of a hundred streams.
+      Whereof the rumour reached to Saladin;
+    And that swart king--as royal in his heart
+    As any crowned champion of the Cross--
+    That he might fully, of his knowledge, learn
+    The purpose of the lords of Christendom,
+    And when their war and what their armament,
+    Took thought to cross the seas to Lombardy.
+    Wherefore, with wise and trustful Amirs twain,
+    All habited in garbs that merchants use,
+    With trader's band and gipsire on the breasts
+    That best loved mail and dagger, Saladin
+    Set forth upon his journey perilous.
+      In that day, lordly land was Lombardy!
+    A sea of country-plenty, islanded
+    With cities rich; nor richer one than thee,
+    Marble Milano! from whose gate at dawn--
+    With ear that little recked the matin-bell,
+    But a keen eye to measure wall and foss--
+    The Soldan rode; and all day long he rode
+    For Pavia; passing basilic, and shrine,
+    And gaze of vineyard-workers, wotting not
+    Yon trader was the Lord of Heathenesse.
+    All day he rode; yet at the wane of day
+    No gleam of gate, or ramp, or rising spire,
+    Nor Tessin's sparkle underneath the stars
+    Promised him Pavia; but he was 'ware
+    Of a gay company upon the way,
+    Ladies and lords, with horses, hawks, and hounds:
+    Cap-plumes and tresses fluttered by the wind
+    Of merry race for home. "Go!" said the king
+    To one that rode upon his better hand,
+    "And pray these gentles of their courtesy
+    How many leagues to Pavia, and the gates
+    What hour they close them?" Then the Saracen
+    Set spur, and being joined to him that seemed
+    First of the hunt, he told the message--they
+    Checking the jangling bits, and chiding down
+    The unfinished laugh to listen--but by this
+    Came up the king, his bonnet in his hand,
+    Theirs doffed to him: "Sir Trader," Torel said
+    (Messer Torello 'twas, of Istria),
+    "They shut the Pavian gate at even-song,
+    And even-song is sung." Then turning half,
+    Muttered, "Pardie, the man is worshipful,
+    A stranger too!" "Fair lord!" quoth Saladin,
+    "Please you to stead some weary travellers,
+    Saying where we may lodge, the town so far
+    And night so near" "Of my heart, willingly,"
+    Made answer Torel, "I did think but now
+    To send my knave an errand--he shall ride
+    And bring you into lodgment--oh! no thanks,
+    Our Lady keep you!" then with whispered hest
+    He called their guide and sped them. Being gone.
+    Torello told his purpose, and the band,
+    With ready zeal and loosened bridle-chains,
+    Rode for his hunting-palace, where they set
+    A goodly banquet underneath the planes,
+    And hung the house with guest-lights, and anon
+    Welcomed the wondering strangers, thereto led
+    Unwitting, by a world of winding paths;
+    Messer Torello, at the inner gate,
+    Waiting to take them in--a goodly host,
+    Stamped current with God's image for a man
+    Chief among men, truthful, and just, and free.
+      Then he, "Well met again, fair sirs! Our knave
+    Hath found you shelter better than the worst:
+    Please you to leave your selles, and being bathed,
+    Grace our poor supper here." Then Saladin,
+    Whose sword had yielded ere his courtesy,
+    Answered, "Great thanks, Sir Knight, and this much blame,
+    You spoil us for our trade! two bonnets doffed,
+    And travellers' questions holding you afield,
+    For those you give us this." "Sir! not your meed,
+    Nor worthy of your breeding; but in sooth
+    That is not out of Pavia." Thereupon
+    He led them to fair chambers decked with all
+    Makes tired men glad; lights, and the marble bath,
+    And flasks that sparkled, liquid amethyst,
+    And grapes, not dry as yet from evening dew.
+      Thereafter at the supper-board they sat;
+    Nor lacked it, though its guest was reared a king,
+    Worthy provend in crafts of cookery,
+    Pastel, pasticcio--all set forth on gold;
+    And gracious talk and pleasant courtesies,
+    Spoken in stately Latin, cheated time
+    Till there was none but held the stranger-sir,
+    For all his chapman's dress of cramasie,
+    Goodlier than silks could make him. Presently
+    Talk rose upon the Holy Sepulchre:
+    "I go myself," said Torel, "with a score
+    Of better knights--the flower of Pavia--
+    To try our steel against King Saladin's.
+    Sirs! ye have seen the countries of the Sun,
+    Know you the Soldan?" Answer gave the king,
+    "The Soldan we have seen--'twill push him hard
+    If, which I nothing doubt, you Pavian lords
+    Are valorous as gentle;--we, alas!
+    Are Cyprus merchants making trade to France--
+    Dull sons of Peace." "By Mary!" Torel cried,
+    "But for thy word, I ne'er heard speech so fit
+    To lead the war, nor saw a hand that sat
+    Liker a soldier's in the sabre's place;
+    But sure I hold you sleepless!" Then himself
+    Playing the chamberlain, with torches borne,
+    Led them to restful beds, commending them
+    To sleep and God, Who hears--Allah or God--
+    When good men do his creatures charities.
+      At dawn the cock, and neigh of saddled steeds,
+    Broke the king's dreams of battle--not their own,
+    But goodly jennets from Torello's stalls,
+    Caparisoned to bear them; he their host
+    Up, with a gracious radiance like the sun,
+    To bid them speed. Beside him in the court
+    Stood Dame Adalieta; comely she,
+    And of her port as queenly, and serene
+    As if the braided gold about her brows
+    Had been a crown. Mutual good-morrow given,
+    Thanks said and stayed, the lady prayed her guest
+    To take a token of his sojourn there,
+    Marking her good-will, not his worthiness;
+    "A gown of miniver--these furbelows
+    Are silk I spun--my lord wears ever such--
+    A housewife's gift! but those ye love are far;
+    Wear it as given for them." Then Saladin--
+    "A precious gift, Madonna, past my thanks;
+    And--but thou shalt not hear a 'no' from me--
+    Past my receiving; yet I take it; we
+    Were debtors to your noble courtesy
+    Out of redemption--this but bankrupts us."
+    "Nay, sir,--God shield you!" said the knight and dame.
+    And Saladin, with phrase of gentilesse
+    Returned, or ever that he rode alone,
+    Swore a great oath in guttural Arabic,
+    An oath by Allah--startling up the ears
+    Of those three Christian cattle they bestrode--
+    That never yet was princelier-natured man,
+    Nor gentler lady;--and that time should see
+    For a king's lodging quittance royal repaid.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    It was the day of the Passaggio:
+    Ashore the war-steeds champed the burnished bit;
+    Afloat the galleys tugged the mooring-chain:
+    The town was out; the Lombard armourers--
+    Red-hot with riveting the helmets up,
+    And whetting axes for the heathen heads--
+    Cooled in the crowd that filled the squares and street:
+    To speed God's soldiers. At the none that day
+    Messer Torello to the gate came down,
+    Leading his lady;--sorrow's hueless rose
+    Grew on her cheek, and thrice the destrier
+    Struck fire, impatient, from the pavement-squares,
+    Or ere she spoke, tears in her lifted eyes,
+    "Goest thou, lord of mine?" "Madonna, yes!"
+    Said Torel, "for my soul's weal and the Lord
+    Ride I to-day: my good name and my house
+    Reliant I intrust thee, and--because
+    It may be they shall slay me, and because,
+    Being so young, so fair, and so reputed,
+    The noblest will entreat thee--wait for me,
+    Widow or wife, a year, and month, and day;
+    Then if thy kinsmen press thee to a choice,
+    And if I be not come, hold me for dead;
+    Nor link thy blooming beauty with the grave
+    Against thine heart." "Good my lord!" answered she,
+    "Hardly my heart sustains to let thee go;
+    Thy memory it can keep, and keep it will,
+    Though my one lord, Torel of Istria,
+    Live, or----" "Sweet, comfort thee! San Pietro speed!
+    I shall come home: if not, and worthy knees
+    Bend for this hand, whereof none worthy lives,
+    Least he who lays his last kiss thus upon it,
+    Look thee, I free it----" "Nay!" she said, "but I,
+    A petulant slave that hugs her golden chain,
+    Give that gift back, and with it this poor ring:
+    Set it upon thy sword-hand, and in fight
+    Be merciful and win, thinking of me."
+    Then she, with pretty action, drawing on
+    Her ruby, buckled over it his glove--
+    The great steel glove--and through the helmet bars
+    Took her last kiss;--then let the chafing steed
+    Have its hot will and go.
+                               But Saladin,
+    Safe back among his lords at Lebanon,
+    Well wotting of their quest, awaited it,
+    And held the Crescent up against the Cross,
+    In many a doughty fight Ferrara blades
+    Clashed with keen Damasc, many a weary month
+    Wasted afield; but yet the Christians
+    Won nothing nearer to Christ's sepulchre;
+    Nay, but gave ground. At last, in Acre pent,
+    On their loose files, enfeebled by the war,
+    Came stronger smiter than the Saracen--
+    The deadly Pest: day after day they died,
+    Pikeman and knight-at-arms; day after day
+    A thinner line upon the leaguered wall
+    Held off the heathen:--held them off a space;
+    Then, over-weakened, yielded, and gave up
+    The city and the stricken garrison.
+      So to sad chains and hateful servitude
+    Fell all those purple lords--Christendom's stars,
+    Once high in hope as soaring Lucifer,
+    Now low as sinking Hesper: with them fell
+    Messer Torello--never one so poor
+    Of all the hundreds that his bounty fed
+    As he in prison--ill-entreated, bound,
+    Starved of sweet light, and set to shameful tasks;
+    And that great load at heart to know the days
+    Fast flying, and to live accounted dead.
+    One joy his gaolers left him,--his good hawk;
+    The brave, gay bird that crossed the seas with him:
+    And often, in the mindful hour of eve,
+    With tameless eye and spirit masterful,
+    In a feigned anger checking at his hand,
+    The good gray falcon made his master cheer.
+
+    One day it chanced Saladin rode afield
+    With shawled and turbaned Amirs, and his hawks--
+    Lebanon-bred, and mewed as princes lodge--
+    Flew foul, forgot their feather, hung at wrist,
+    And slighted call. The Soldan, quick in wrath,
+    Bade slay the cravens, scourge the falconer,
+    And seek some wight who knew the heart of hawks,
+    To keep it hot and true. Then spake a Sheikh--
+    "There is a Frank in prison by the sea,
+    Far-seen herein." "Give word that he be brought,"
+    Quoth Saladin, "and bid him set a cast:
+    If he hath skill, it shall go well for him."
+
+    Thus by the winding path of circumstance
+    One palace held, as prisoner and prince,
+    Torello and his guest: unwitting each,
+    Nay and unwitting, though they met and spake
+    Of that goshawk and this--signors in serge,
+    And chapmen crowned, who knows?--till on a time
+    Some trick of face, the manner of some smile,
+    Some gleam of sunset from the glad day gone,
+    Caught the king's eye, and held it. "Nazarene!
+    What native art thou?" asked he. "Lombard I,
+    A man of Pavia." "And thy name?" "Torel,
+    Messer Torello called in happier times,
+    Now best uncalled." "Come hither, Christian!"
+    The Soldan said, and led the way, by court
+    And hall and fountain, to an inner room
+    Rich with king's robes: therefrom he reached a gown,
+    And "Know'st thou this?" he asked. "High lord! I might
+    Elsewhere," quoth Torel, "here 'twere mad to say
+    Yon gown my wife unto a trader gave
+    Who shared our board." "Nay, but that gown is this,
+    And she the giver, and the trader I,"
+    Quoth Saladin; "I! twice a king to-day,
+    Owing a royal debt and paying it."
+    Then Torel, sore amazed, "Great lord, I blush,
+    Remembering how the Master of the East
+    Lodged sorrily." "It's Master's Master thou!"
+    Gave answer Saladin, "come in and see
+    What wares the Cyprus traders keep at home;
+    Come forth and take thy place, Saladin's friend,"
+    Therewith into the circle of his lords,
+    With gracious mien the Soldan led his slave;
+    And while the dark eyes glittered, seated him
+    First of the full divan. "Orient lords,"
+    So spake he,--"let the one who loves his king
+    Honour this Frank, whose house sheltered your king;
+    He is my brother:" then the night-black beards
+    Swept the stone floor in ready reverence,
+    Agas and Amirs welcoming Torel:
+    And a great feast was set, the Soldan's friend
+    Royally garbed, upon the Soldan's hand,
+    Shining the bright star of the banqueters.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    All which, and the abounding grace and love
+    Shown him by Saladin, a little held
+    The heart of Torel from its Lombard home
+    With Dame Adalieta: but it chanced
+    He sat beside the king in audience,
+    And there came one who said, "Oh, Lord of lords,
+    That galley of the Genovese which sailed
+    With Frankish prisoners is gone down at sea."
+    "Gone down!" cried Torel. "Ay! what recks it, friend,
+    To fall thy visage for?" quoth Saladin;
+    "One galley less to ship-stuffed Genoa!"
+    "Good my liege!" Torel said, "it bore a scroll
+    Inscribed to Pavia, saying that I lived;
+    For in a year, a month, and day, not come,
+    I bade them hold me dead; and dead I am,
+    Albeit living, if my lady wed,
+    Perchance constrained." "Certes," spake Saladin,
+    "A noble dame--the like not won, once lost--
+    How many days remain?" "Ten days, my prince,
+    And twelvescore leagues between my heart and me:
+    Alas! how to be passed?" Then Saladin--
+    "Lo! I am loath to lose thee--wilt thou swear
+    To come again if all go well with thee,
+    Or come ill speeding?" "Yea, I swear, my king,
+    Out of true love," quoth Torel, "heartfully."
+    Then Saladin, "Take here my signet-seal;
+    My admiral will loose his swiftest sail
+    Upon its sight; and cleave the seas, and go
+    And clip thy dame, and say the Trader sends
+    A gift, remindful of her courtesies."
+      Passed were the year, and month, and day; and passed
+    Out of all hearts but one Sir Torel's name,
+    Long given for dead by ransomed Pavians:
+    For Pavia, thoughtless of her Eastern graves,
+    A lovely widow, much too gay for grief,
+    Made peals from half a hundred campaniles
+    To ring a wedding in. The seven bells
+    Of Santo Pietro, from the nones to noon,
+    Boomed with bronze throats the happy tidings out;
+    Till the great tenor, overswelled with sound,
+    Cracked itself dumb. Thereat the sacristan,
+    Leading his swinked ringers down the stairs,
+    Came blinking into sunlight--all his keys
+    Jingling their little peal about his belt--
+    Whom, as he tarried, locking up the porch,
+    A foreign signor, browned with southern suns,
+    Turbaned and slippered, as the Muslims use,
+    Plucked by the cope. "Friend," quoth he--'twas a tongue
+    Italian true, but in a Muslim mouth--
+    "Why are your belfries busy--is it peace
+    Or victory, that so ye din the ears
+    Of Pavian lieges?" "Truly, no liege thou!"
+    Grunted the sacristan, "who knowest not
+    That Dame Adalieta weds to-night
+    Her fore-betrothed,--Sir Torel's widow she,
+    That died i' the chain?" "To-night!" the stranger said
+    "Ay, sir, to-night!--why not to-night?--to-night!
+    And you shall see a goodly Christian feast
+    If so you pass their gates at even-song,
+    For all are asked."
+                         No more the questioner,
+    But folded o'er his face the Eastern hood,
+    Lest idle eyes should mark how idle words
+    Had struck him home. "So quite forgot!--so soon!--
+    And this the square wherein I gave the joust,
+    And that the loggia, where I fed the poor;
+    And yon my palace, where--oh, fair! oh, false!--
+    They robe her for a bridal. Can it be?
+    Clean out of heart, with twice six flying moons,
+    The heart that beat on mine as it would break,
+    That faltered forty oaths. Forced! forced!--not false--
+    Well! I will sit, wife, at thy wedding-feast,
+    And let mine eyes give my fond faith the lie."
+      So in the stream of gallant guests that flowed
+    Feastward at eve, went Torel; passed with them
+    The outer gates, crossed the great courts with them,
+    A stranger in the walls that called him lord.
+    Cressets and coloured lamps made the way bright,
+    And rose-leaves strewed to where within the doors
+    The master of the feast, the bridegroom, stood,
+    A-glitter from his forehead to his foot,
+    Speaking fair welcomes. He, a courtly lord,
+    Marking the Eastern guest, bespoke him sweet,
+    Prayed place for him, and bade them set his seat
+    Upon the dais. Then the feast began,
+    And wine went free as wit, and music died--
+    Outdone by merrier laughter.--only one
+    Nor ate nor drank, nor spoke nor smiled; but gazed
+    On the pale bride, pale as her crown of pearls,
+    Who sate so cold and still, and sad of cheer,
+    At the bride-feast.
+                         But of a truth, Torel
+    Read the thoughts right that held her eyelids down,
+    And knew her loyal to her memories.
+    Then to a little page who bore the wine,
+    He spake, "Go tell thy lady thus from me:
+    In mine own land, if any stranger sit
+    A wedding-guest, the bride, out of her grace,
+    In token that she knows her guest's good-will,
+    In token she repays it, brims a cup,
+    Wherefrom he drinking she in turn doth drink;
+    So is our use." The little page made speed
+    And told the message. Then that lady pale--
+    Ever a gentle and a courteous heart--
+    Lifted her troubled eyes and smiled consent
+    On the swart stranger. By her side, untouched,
+    Stood the brimmed gold; "Bear this," she said, "and pray
+    He hold a Christian lady apt to learn
+    A kindly lesson." But Sir Torel loosed
+    From off his finger--never loosed before--
+    The ring she gave him on the parting day;
+    And ere he drank, behind his veil of beard
+    Dropped in the cup the ruby, quaffed, and sent.--
+    Then she, with sad smile, set her lips to drink,
+    And--something in the Cyprus touching them,
+    Glanced--gazed--the ring!--her ring!--Jove! how she eyes
+    The wistful eyes of Torel!--how, heartsure,
+    Under all guise knowing her lord returned,
+    She springs to meet him coming!--telling all
+    In one great cry of joy.
+                         O me! the rout,
+    The storm of questions! stilled, when Torel spake
+    His name, and, known of all, claimed the Bride Wife,
+    Maugre the wasted feast, and woful groom.
+    All hearts but his were light to see Torel;
+    But Adalieta's lightest, as she plucked
+    The bridal-veil away. Something therein--
+    A lady's dagger--small, and bright, and fine--
+    Clashed out upon the marble. "Wherefore that?"
+    Asked Torel; answered she, "I knew you true;
+    And I could live, so long as I might wait;
+    But they--they pressed me hard! my days of grace
+    Ended to-night--and I had ended too,
+    Faithful to death, if so thou hadst not come."
+
+
+
+
+_THE CALIPH'S DRAUGHT_.
+
+
+    Upon a day in Ramadan--
+      When sunset brought an end of fast,
+    And in his station every man
+      Prepared to share the glad repast--
+    Sate Mohtasim in royal state,
+      The pillaw smoked upon the gold;
+    The fairest slave of those that wait
+      Mohtasim's jewelled cup did hold.
+
+    Of crystal carven was the cup,
+      With turquoise set along the brim,
+    A lid of amber closed it up;
+      'Twas a great king that gave it him.
+    The slave poured sherbet to the brink,
+      Stirred in wild honey and pomegranate,
+    With snow and rose-leaves cooled the drink,
+      And bore it where the Caliph sate.
+
+    The Caliph's mouth was dry as bone,
+      He swept his beard aside to quaff:--
+    The news-reader beneath the throne,
+      Went droning on with _ghain_ and _kaf_.--
+    The Caliph drew a mighty breath,
+      Just then the reader read a word--
+    And Mohtasim, as grim as death,
+      Set down the cup and snatched his sword.
+
+    "_Ann' amratan shureefatee!_"
+      "Speak clear!" cries angry Mohtasim;
+    "_Fe lasr ind' ilj min ulji_,"--
+      Trembling the newsman read to him
+    How in Ammoria, far from home,
+      An Arab girl of noble race
+    Was captive to a lord of Roum;
+      And how he smote her on the face,
+
+    And how she cried, for life afraid,
+      "Ya, Mohtasim! help, O my king!"
+    And how the Kafir mocked the maid,
+      And laughed, and spake a bitter thing,
+    "Call louder, fool! Mohtasim's ears
+      Are long as Barak's--if he heed--
+    Your prophet's ass; and when he hears,
+      He'll come upon a spotted steed!"
+
+    The Caliph's face was stern and red,
+      He snapped the lid upon the cup;
+    "Keep this same sherbet, slave," he said,
+      "Till such time as I drink it up.
+    Wallah! the stream my drink shall be,
+      My hollowed palm my only bowl,
+    Till I have set that lady free,
+      And seen that Roumi dog's head roll."
+
+    At dawn the drums of war were beat,
+      Proclaiming, "Thus saith Mohtasim,
+    'Let all my valiant horsemen meet,
+      And every soldier bring with him
+    A spotted steed,'" So rode they forth,
+      A sight of marvel and of fear;
+    Pied horses prancing fiercely north;
+      The crystal cup borne in the rear!
+
+    When to Ammoria he did win,
+      He smote and drove the dogs of Roum,
+    And rode his spotted stallion in,
+      Crying, "_Labbayki!_ I am come!"
+    Then downward from her prison-place
+      Joyful the Arab lady crept;
+    She held her hair before her face,
+      She kissed his feet, she laughed and wept.
+
+    She pointed where that lord was laid:
+      They drew him forth, he whined for grace:
+    Then with fierce eyes Mohtasim said--
+      "She whom thou smotest on the face
+    Had scorn, because she called her king:
+      Lo! he is come! and dost thou think
+    To live, who didst this bitter thing
+      While Mohtasim at peace did drink?"
+
+    Flashed the fierce sword--rolled the lord's head;
+      The wicked blood smoked in the sand.
+    "Now bring my cup!" the Caliph said.
+      Lightly he took it in his hand,
+    As down his throat the sweet drink ran
+      Mohtasim in his saddle laughed,
+    And cried, "_Taiba asshrab alan!_
+      By God! delicious is this draught!"
+
+
+
+
+_HINDOO FUNERAL SONG_.
+
+
+    Call on Rama! call to Rama!
+    Oh, my brothers, call on Rama!
+      For this Dead
+      Whom we bring,
+    Call aloud to mighty Rama.
+
+    As we bear him, oh, my brothers,
+    Call together, very loudly,
+      That the Bhuts
+      May be scared;
+    That his spirit pass in comfort.
+
+    Turn his feet now, calling "Rama,"
+    Calling "Rama," who shall take him
+      When the flames
+      Make an end:
+    Ram! Ram!--oh, call to Rama.
+
+
+
+
+_SONG OF THE SERPENT-CHARMERS._
+
+
+    Come forth, oh, Snake! come forth, oh, glittering Snake!
+    Oh shining, lovely, deadly Nag! appear,
+    Dance to the music that we make,
+          This serpent-song, so sweet and clear,
+          Blown on the beaded gourd, so clear,
+                        So soft and clear.
+
+    Oh, dread Lord Snake! come forth and spread thy hood,
+    And drink the milk and suck the eggs; and show
+    Thy tongue; and own the tune is good:
+          Hear, Maharaj! how hard we blow!
+          Ah, Maharaj! for thee we blow;
+                        See how we blow!
+
+    Great Uncle Snake! creep forth and dance to-day!
+    This music is the music snakes love best;
+    Taste the warm white new milk, and play
+          Standing erect, with fangs at rest,
+          Dancing on end, sharp fangs at rest,
+                        Fierce fangs at rest.
+
+    Ah, wise Lord Nag! thou comest!--Fear thou not!
+    We make salaam to thee, the Serpent-King,
+    Draw forth thy folds, knot after knot;
+          Dance, Master! while we softly sing;
+          Dance, Serpent! while we play and sing,
+                        We play and sing.
+
+    Dance, dreadful King! whose kisses strike men dead;
+    Dance this side, mighty Snake! the milk is here!
+
+[_They seize the Cobra by the neck_.]
+
+    Ah, _shabash_! pin his angry head!
+          Thou fool! this nautch shall cost thee dear;
+          Wrench forth his fangs! this piping clear,
+                        It costs thee dear!
+
+
+
+
+_SONG OF THE FLOUR-MILL._
+
+
+    Turn the merry mill-stone, Gunga!
+      Pour the golden grain in;
+    Those that twist the Churrak fastest
+      The cakes soonest win:
+        Good stones, turn!
+        The fire begins to burn;
+        Gunga, stay not!
+        The hearth is nearly hot.
+    Grind the hard gold to silver;
+      Sing quick to the stone;
+    Feed its mouth with dal and bajri,
+      It will feed us anon.
+
+    Sing, Gunga! to the mill-stone,
+      It helps the wheel hum;
+    Blithesome hearts and willing elbows
+      Make the fine meal come:
+        Handsful three
+        For you and for me;
+        Now it falls white,
+        Good stones, bite!
+    Drive it round and round, my Gunga!
+      Sing soft to the stone;
+    Better corn and churrak-working
+      Than idleness and none.
+
+
+
+
+_TAZA BA TAZA_
+
+
+    Akbar sate high in the ivory hall,
+    His chief musician he bade them call;
+    Sing, said the king, that song of glee.
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now._
+    Sing me that music sweet and free,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_;
+    Here by the fountain sing it thou,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now._
+
+    Bending full low, his minstrel took
+    The Vina down from its painted nook.
+    Swept the strings of silver so
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_
+    Made the gladsome Vina go
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_
+    Sang with light strains and brightsome brow
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_.
+
+    "What is the lay for love most fit?
+    What is the melody echoes it?
+    Ever in tune and ever meet,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_
+    Ever delightful and ever sweet
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_
+    Soft as the murmur of love's first vow,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_."
+
+    "What is the bliss that is best on earth?
+    Lovers' light whispers and tender mirth;
+    Bright gleams the sun on the Green Sea's isle,
+    But a brighter light has a woman's smile:
+    Ever, like sunrise, fresh of hue,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_;
+    Ever, like sunset, splendid and new,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_."
+
+    "Thereunto groweth the graceful vine
+    To cool the lips of lovers with wine,
+    Haste thee and bring the amethyst cup,
+    That happy lovers may drink it up;
+    And so renew their gentle play,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_;
+    Ever delicious and new alway,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_."
+
+    "Thereunto sigheth the evening gale
+    To freshen the cheeks which love made pale;
+    This is why bloometh the scented flower,
+    To gladden with grace love's secret bower:
+    Love is the zephyr that always blows,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_;
+    Love is the rose-bloom that ever glows,
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_."
+
+    Akbar, the mighty one, smiled to hear
+    The musical strain so soft and clear;
+    Danced the diamonds over his brow
+      To _taza ba taza, now ba now_:
+    His lovely ladies rocked in a row
+      To _taza ba taza, now ba now_;
+
+    Livelier sparkled the fountain's flow,
+      _Boose sittan ba kaum uzo_;
+    Swifter and sweeter the strings did go,
+      _Mutrib i khoosh nuwa bejo_;
+    Never such singing was heard, I trow;
+      _Taza ba taza, now ba now_.
+
+
+
+
+_THE MUSSULMAN PARADISE_.
+
+(_From the Arabic of the Fifty-sixth Surat of the Koran, entitled "The
+Inevitable._")
+
+
+    When the Day of Wrath and Mercy cometh, none shall doubt it come;
+    Unto hell some it shall lower, and exalt to heaven some.
+
+    When the Earth with great shocks shaketh, and the mountains crumble
+        flat,
+    Quick and Dead shall be divided fourfold:--on this side and that.
+
+    The "Companions of the Right Hand" (ah! how joyful they will be!)
+    The "Companions of the Left Hand" (oh! what misery to see!)
+
+    Such, moreover, as of old times loved the truth, and taught it well,
+    First in faith, they shall be foremost in reward. The rest to hell.
+
+    But those souls attaining Allah, oh! the Gardens of good cheer
+    Kept to bless them! Yea, besides the "faithful," many shall be there.
+
+    Lightly lying on soft couches, beautiful with 'broidered gold,
+    Friends with friends, they shall be served by youths immortal, who
+        shall hold.
+
+    "_Akwab, abareek_"--cups and goblets, brimming with celestial wine,
+    Wine that hurts not head or stomach: this and fruits of heav'n which
+        shine.
+
+    Bright, desirable; and rich flesh of what birds they relish best.
+    Yea! and--feasted--there shall soothe them damsels fairest, stateliest;
+
+    Damsels, having eyes of wonder, large black eyes, like hidden pearls,
+    "_Lulu-l-maknun_": Allah grants them for sweet love those matchless
+        girls.
+
+    Never in that Garden hear they speech of folly, sin, or dread,
+    Only PEACE; "_SALAMUN_" only; that one word for ever said.
+
+    PEACE! PEACE! PEACE!--and the "Companions of the Right Hand" (ah!
+        those bowers!)
+    They shall lodge 'mid thornless lote-groves; under mawz-trees thick
+        with flowers;
+
+    Shaded, fed, by flowing waters; near to fruits that never cloy,
+    Hanging ever ripe for plucking; and at hand the tender joy,
+
+    Of those Maids of Heaven--the Huris. Lo! to these we gave a birth
+    Specially creating. Lo! they are not as the wives of earth.
+
+    Ever virginal and stainless, howsooften they embrace,
+    Always young, and loved, and loving, these are. Neither is there grace,
+
+    Like the grace and bliss the Black-eyed keep for you in Paradise;
+    Oh, "Companions of the Right Hand"! oh! ye others who were wise!
+
+
+
+
+_DEDICATION OF A POEM FROM THE SANSKRIT_.
+
+
+    Sweet, on the daisies of your English grave
+      I lay this little wreath of Indian flowers,
+    Fragrant for me because the scent they have
+      Breathes of the memory of our wedded hours;
+
+    For others scentless; and for you, in heaven,
+      Too pale and faded, dear dead wife! to wear,
+    Save that they mean--what makes all fault forgiven--
+      That he who brings them lays his heart, too, there.
+
+_April_ 9, 1865.
+
+
+
+
+_THE RAJAH'S RIDE_.
+
+A PUNJAB SONG.
+
+
+    Now is the Devil-horse come to Sindh!
+      Wah! wah! gooroo!--that is true!
+    His belly is stuffed with the fire and the wind,
+      But a fleeter steed had Runjeet Dehu!
+
+    It's forty koss from Lahore to the ford,
+      Forty and more to far Jummoo;
+    Fast may go the Feringhee lord,
+      But never so fast as Runjeet Dehu!
+
+    Runjeet Dehu was King of the Hill,
+      Lord and eagle of every crest;
+    Now the swords and the spears are still,
+      God will have it--and God knows best!
+
+    Rajah Runjeet sate in the sky,
+      Watching the loaded Kafilas in;
+    Affghan, Kashmeree, passing by,
+      Paid him pushm to save their skin,
+
+    Once he caracoled into the plain,
+      Wah! the sparkle of steel on steel!
+    And up the pass came singing again
+      With a lakh of silver borne at his heel.
+
+    Once he trusted the Mussulman's word,
+      Wah! wah! trust a liar to lie!
+    Down from his eyrie they tempted my Bird,
+      And clipped his wings that he could not fly.
+
+    Fettered him fast in far Lahore,
+      Fast by the gate at the Runchenee Pul;
+    Sad was the soul of Chunda Kour,
+      Glad the merchants of rich Kurnool.
+
+    Ten months Runjeet lay in Lahore--
+      Wah! a hero's heart is brass!
+    Ten months never did Chunda Kour
+      Braid her hair at the tiring-glass.
+
+    There came a steed from Toorkistan,
+      Wah! God made him to match the hawk!
+    Fast beside him the four grooms ran,
+      To keep abreast of the Toorkman's walk.
+
+    Black as the bear on Iskardoo;
+      Savage at heart as a tiger chained;
+    Fleeter than hawk that ever flew,
+      Never a Muslim could ride him reined.
+
+    "Runjeet Dehu! come forth from thy hold"--
+      Wah! ten months had rusted his chain!
+    "Ride this Sheitan's liver cold"--
+      Runjeet twisted his hand in the mane.
+
+    Runjeet sprang to the Toorkman's back,
+      Wah! a king on a kingly throne!
+    Snort, black Sheitan! till nostrils crack,
+      Rajah Runjeet sits, a stone.
+
+    Three times round the Maidan he rode,
+      Touched its neck at the Kashmeree wall,
+    Struck the spurs till they spirted blood,
+      Leapt the rampart before them all!
+
+    Breasted the waves of the blue Ravee,
+      Forty horsemen mounting behind,
+    Forty bridle-chains flung free,--
+      Wah! wah! better chase the wind!
+
+    Chunda Kour sate sad in Jummoo:--
+      Hark! what horse-hoof echoes without?
+    "Rise! and welcome Runjeet Dehu--
+      Wash the Toorkman's nostrils out!
+
+    "Forty koss he has come, my life!
+      Forty koss back he must carry me;
+    Rajah Runjeet visits his wife,
+      He steals no steed like an Afreedee.
+
+    "They bade me teach them how to ride--
+      Wah! wah! now I have taught them well!"
+    Chunda Kour sank low at his side!
+      Rajah Runjeet rode the hill.
+
+    When he came back to far Lahore--
+      Long or ever the night began--
+    Spake he, "Take your horse once more,
+      He carries well--when he bears a man."
+
+    Then they gave him a khillut and gold,
+      All for his honour and grace and truth;
+    Sent him back to his mountain-hold--
+      Muslim manners have touch of ruth;
+
+    Sent him back, with dances and drum--
+      Wah! my Rajah Runjeet Dehu!
+    To Chunda Kour and his Jummoo home--
+      Wah! wah! futteh!--wah, gooroo!
+
+
+
+
+_TWO BOOKS FROM THE ILIAD OF INDIA._
+
+
+
+
+_TWO BOOKS FROM THE ILIAD OF INDIA._
+
+(_Now for the first time translated_.)
+
+
+There exist certain colossal, unparalleled, epic poems in the sacred
+language of India, which were not known to Europe, even by name, till Sir
+William Jones announced their existence; and which, since his time, have
+been made public only by fragments--by mere specimens--bearing to those
+vast treasures of Sanskrit literature such small proportion as cabinet
+samples of ore have to the riches of a mine. Yet these twain mighty poems
+contain all the history of ancient India, so far as it can be recovered,
+together with such inexhaustible details of its political, social, and
+religious life that the antique Hindu world really stands epitomised in
+them. The Old Testament is not more interwoven with the Jewish race, nor
+the New Testament with the civilisation of Christendom, nor the Koran with
+the records and destinies of Islam, than are these two Sanskrit poems--the
+Mahabharata and Ramayana--with that unchanging and teeming population which
+Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, rules as Empress of Hindustan. The stories,
+songs, and ballads, the histories and genealogies, the nursery tales and
+religious discourses, the art, the learning, the philosophy, the creeds,
+the moralities, the modes of thought; the very phrases, sayings, turns of
+expression, and daily ideas of the Hindu people, are taken from these
+poems. Their children and their wives are named out of them; so are their
+cities, temples, streets, and cattle. They have constituted the library,
+the newspaper, and the Bible--generation after generation--to all the
+succeeding and countless millions of Indian people; and it replaces
+patriotism with that race and stands in stead of nationality to possess
+these two precious and inexhaustible books, and to drink from them as from
+mighty and overflowing rivers. The value ascribed in Hindustan to these yet
+little-known epics has transcended all literary standards established in
+the West. They are personified, worshipped, and cited from as something
+divine. To read or even listen to them is thought by the devout Hindu
+sufficiently meritorious to bring prosperity to his household here and
+happiness in the next world; they are held also to give wealth to the poor,
+health to the sick, wisdom to the ignorant; and the recitation of certain
+_parvas_ and _shlokas_ in them can fill the household of the barren, it is
+believed, with children. A concluding passage of the great poem says:--
+
+     "The reading of this Mahabharata destroys all sin and
+     produces virtue; so much so, that the pronunciation of a
+     single shloka is sufficient to wipe away much guilt. This
+     Mahabharata contains the history of the gods, of the Rishis
+     in heaven and those on earth, of the Gandharvas and the
+     Rakshasas. It also contains the life and actions of the one
+     God, holy, immutable, and true,--who is Krishna, who is the
+     creator and the ruler of this universe; who is seeking the
+     welfare of his creation by means of his incomparable and
+     indestructible power; whose actions are celebrated by all
+     sages; who has bound human beings in a chain, of which one
+     end is life and the other death; on whom the Rishis
+     meditate, and a knowledge of whom imparts unalloyed
+     happiness to their hearts, and for whose gratification and
+     favour all the daily devotions are performed by all
+     worshippers. If a man reads the Mahabharata and has faith in
+     its doctrines, he is free from all sin, and ascends to
+     heaven after his death."
+
+In order to explain the portion of this Indian epic, here for the
+first time published in English verse, I reprint a brief summary of
+its plot:--
+
+The "great war of Bharat" has its first scenes in Hastinapur, an
+ancient and vanished city, formerly situated about sixty miles
+north-east of the modern Delhi. The Ganges has washed away even the
+ruins of this the metropolis of King Bharat's dominions. The poem
+opens with a "sacrifice of snakes," but this is a prelude, connected
+merely by a curious legend with the real beginning. That beginning is
+reached when the five sons of "King Pandu the Pale" and the five sons
+of "King Dhritarashtra the Blind," both of them descendants of Bharat,
+are being brought up together in the palace. The first were called
+Pandavas, the last Kauravas, and their lifelong feud is the main
+subject of the epic. Yudhishthira, Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula, and Sahadeva
+are the Pandava princes. Duryodhana is chief of the Kauravas. They
+are instructed by one master, Drona, a Brahman, in the arts of war and
+peace, and learn to manage and brand cattle, hunt wild animals, and
+tame horses. There is in the early portion a striking picture of an
+Aryan tournament, wherein the young cousins display their skill,
+"highly arrayed, amid vast crowds," and Arjuna especially
+distinguishes himself. Clad in golden mail, he shows amazing feats
+with sword and bow. He shoots twenty-one arrows into the hollow of a
+buffalo-horn while his chariot whirls along; he throws the "chakra,"
+or sharp quoit, without once missing his victim; and, after winning
+the prizes, kneels respectfully at the feet of his instructor to
+receive his crown. The cousins, after this, march out to fight with a
+neighbouring king, and the Pandavas, who are always the favoured
+family in the poem, win most of the credit, so that Yudhishthira is
+elected from among them _Yuvaraj_, or heir apparent. This incenses
+Duryodhana, who, by appealing to his father, Dhritarashtra, procures a
+division of the kingdom, the Pandavas being sent to Vacanavat, now
+Allahabad. All this part of the story refers obviously to the advances
+gradually made by the Aryan conquerors of India into the jungles
+peopled by aborigines. Forced to quit their new city, the Pandavas
+hear of the marvellous beauty of Draupadi, whose _Swayamvara_, or
+"choice of a suitor," is about to be celebrated at Kampilya. This
+again furnishes a strange and glittering picture of the old times;
+vast masses of holiday people, with rajahs, elephants, troops,
+jugglers, dancing-women, and showmen, are gathered in a gay encampment
+round the pavilion of the King Draupada, whose lovely daughter is to
+take for her husband (on the well-understood condition that she
+approves of him) the fortunate archer who can strike the eye of a
+golden fish, whirling round upon the top of a tall pole, with an arrow
+shot from an enormously strong bow. The princess, adorned with radiant
+gems, holds a garland of flowers in her hand for the victorious
+suitor; but none of the rajahs can bend the bow. Arjuna, disguised as
+a Brahman, performs the feat with ease, and his youth and grace win
+the heart of Draupadi more completely than his skill. The princess
+henceforth follows the fortunes of the brothers, and, by a strange
+ancient custom, lives with them in common. The Pandavas, now allied to
+the King Draupada and become strong, are so much dreaded by the
+Kauravas that they are invited back again, for safety's sake, to
+Hastinapura, and settle near it in the city of Indraprastha, now
+Delhi. The reign of Yudhishthira and his brothers is very prosperous
+there; "every subject was pious; there were no liars, thieves, or
+cheats; no droughts, floods, or locusts; no conflagrations nor
+invaders, nor parrots to eat up the grain."
+
+The Pandava king, having subdued all enemies, now performs the
+_Rajasuya_, or ceremony of supremacy,--and here again occur
+wonderfully interesting pictures. Duryodhana comes thither, and his
+jealousy is inflamed by the magnificence of the rite. Among other
+curious incidents is one which seems to show that glass was already
+known. A pavilion is paved with "black crystal," which the Kaurava
+prince mistakes for water, and "draws up his garments lest he should
+be wetted." But now approaches a turning-point in the epic. Furious at
+the wealth and fortune of his cousins, Duryodhana invites them to
+Hastinapura to join in a great gambling festival. The passion for play
+was as strong apparently with these antique Hindus as that for
+fighting or for love: "No true Kshatriya must ever decline a challenge
+to combat or to dice." The brothers go to the entertainment, which is
+to ruin their prosperity; for Sakuni, the most skilful and lucky
+gambler, has loaded the "coupun," so as to win every throw. Mr.
+Wheeler's excellent summary again says:--
+
+     "Then Yudhishthira and Sakuni sat down to play, and whatever
+     Yudhishthira laid as stakes Duryodhana laid something of
+     equal value; but Yudhishthira lost every game. He first lost
+     a very beautiful pearl; next a thousand bags each containing
+     a thousand pieces of gold; next a great piece of gold so
+     pure that it was as soft as wax; next a chariot set with
+     jewels and hung all round with golden bells; next a thousand
+     war-elephants with golden howdahs set with diamonds; next a
+     lakh of slaves all dressed in rich garments; next a lakh of
+     beautiful slave-girls, adorned from head to foot with golden
+     ornaments; next all the remainder of his goods; next all his
+     cattle; and then the whole of his Raj, excepting only the
+     lands which had been granted to the Brahmans."
+
+After this tremendous run of ill-luck, he madly stakes Draupadi the
+Beautiful, and loses her. The princess is dragged away by the hair,
+and Duryodhana mockingly bids her come and sit upon his knee, for
+which Bhima the Pandava swears that he will some day break his
+thigh-bone,--a vow which is duly kept. But the blind old king rebukes
+this fierce elation of the winner, restores Draupadi, and declares
+that they must throw another main to decide who shall leave
+Hastinapura. The cheating Sakuni cogs the dice again, and the Pandavas
+must now go away into the forest, and let no man know them by name for
+thirteen years. They depart, Draupadi unbinding her long black hair,
+and vowing never to fasten it back again till the hands of Bhima, the
+strong man among the Pandavas, are red with the punishment of the
+Kauravas. "Then he shall tie my tresses up again, when his fingers are
+dripping with Duhsasana's blood."
+
+There follow long episodes of their adventures in the jungle till the
+time when the Pandavas emerge, and, still disguised, take up their
+residence in King Virata's city. Here the vicissitudes of Draupadi as
+a handmaid of the queen, of Bhima as the palace wrestler, of Arjuna
+disguised as a eunuch, and of Nakula, Sahadeva, and Yudhishthira,
+acting as herdsmen and attendants, are most absorbing and dramatic.
+The virtue of Draupadi, assailed by a prince of the State, is terribly
+defended by the giant Bhima; and when the Kauravas, suspecting the
+presence in the place of their cousins, attack Virata, Arjuna drives
+the chariot of the heir apparent, and victoriously repulses them with
+his awful bow Gandiva.
+
+After all these evidences of prowess and the help afforded in the
+battle, the King of Virata discovers the princely rank of the
+Pandavas, and gives his daughter in marriage to the son of Arjuna. A
+great council is then held to consider the question of declaring war
+on the Kauravas, at which the speeches are quite Homeric, the god
+Krishna taking part. The decision is to prepare for war, but to send
+an embassy first. Meantime Duryodhana and Arjuna engage in a singular
+contest to obtain the aid of Krishna, whom both of them seek out. This
+celestial hero is asleep when they arrive, and the proud Kaurava, as
+Lord of Indraprastha, sits down at his head; Arjuna, more reverently,
+takes a place at his feet. Krishna, awaking, offers to give his vast
+army to one of them, and himself as counsellor to the other; and
+Arjuna gladly allows Duryodhana to take the army, which turns out much
+the worse bargain. The embassy, meantime, is badly received; but it is
+determined to reply by a counter-message, while warlike preparations
+continue. There is a great deal of useless negotiation, against which
+Draupadi protests, like another Constance, saying, "War, war! no
+peace! Peace is to me a war!" Krishna consoles her with the words,
+"Weep not! the time has nearly come when the Kauravas will be slain,
+both great and small, and their wives will mourn as you have been
+mourning." The ferocity of the chief of the Kauravas prevails over the
+wise counsels of the blind old king and the warnings of Krishna, so
+that the fatal conflict must now begin upon the plain of Kurukshetra.
+
+All is henceforth martial and stormy in the "parvas" that ensue. The
+two enormous hosts march to the field, generalissimos are selected,
+and defiances of the most violent and abusive sort exchanged. Yet
+there are traces of a singular civilisation in the rules which the
+leaders draw up to be observed in the war. Thus, no stratagems are to
+be used; the fighting men are to fraternise, if they will, after each
+combat; none may slay the flier, the unarmed, the charioteer, or the
+beater of the drum; horsemen are not to attack footmen, and nobody is
+to fling a spear till the preliminary challenges are finished; nor may
+any third man interfere when two combatants are engaged. These curious
+regulations--which would certainly much embarrass Von Moltke--are,
+sooth to say, not very strictly observed, and, no doubt, were inserted
+at a later age in the body of the poem by its Brahman editors. Those
+same interpolaters have overloaded the account of the eighteen days of
+terrific battle which follow with many episodes and interruptions,
+some very eloquent and philosophic; indeed, the whole _Bhagavad-Gita_
+comes in hereabouts as a religious interlude. Essays on laws, morals,
+and the sciences are grafted, with lavish indifference to the
+continuous flow of the narrative, upon its most important portions;
+but there is enough of solid and tremendous fighting, notwithstanding,
+to pale the crimson pages of the Greek Iliad itself. The field
+glitters, indeed, with kings and princes in panoply of gold and
+jewels, who engage in mighty and varied combats, till the earth swims
+in blood, and the heavens themselves are obscured with dust and flying
+weapons. One by one the Kaurava chiefs are slain, and Bhima, the
+giant, at last meets in arms Duhsasana, the Kaurava prince who had
+dragged Draupadi by the hair. He strikes him down with the terrible
+mace of iron, after which he cuts off his head, and drinks of his
+blood, saying, "Never have I tasted a draught so delicious as this."
+So furious now becomes the war that even the just and mild Arjuna
+commits two breaches of Aryan chivalry,--killing an enemy while
+engaged with a third man, and shooting Karna dead while he is
+extricating his chariot-wheel and without a weapon. At last none are
+left of the chief Kauravas except Duryodhana, who retires from the
+field and hides in an island of the lake. The Pandavas find him out,
+and heap such reproaches on him that the surly warrior comes forth at
+length, and agrees to fight with Bhima. The duel proves of a
+tremendous nature, and is decided by an act of treachery; for Arjuna,
+standing by, reminds Bhima, by a gesture, of his oath to break the
+thigh of Duryodhana, because he had bidden Draupadi sit on his knee.
+The giant takes the hint, and strikes a foul blow, which cripples the
+Kaurava hero, and he falls helpless to earth. After this the Pandava
+princes are declared victorious, and Yudhishthira is proclaimed king.
+
+The great poem soon softens its martial music into a pathetic strain.
+The dead have to be burned, and the living reconciled to their new
+lords; while afterwards King Yudhishthira is installed in high state
+with "chamaras, golden umbrellas, elephants, and singing." He is
+enthroned facing towards the east, and touches rice, flowers, earth,
+gold, silver, and jewels, in token of owning all the products of his
+realm. Being thus firmly seated on his throne, with his cousins round
+him, the Rajah prepares to celebrate the most magnificent of ancient
+Hindu rites,--the _Aswamedha_, or Sacrifice of the Horse. It is
+difficult to raise the thoughts of a modern and Western public to the
+solemnity, majesty, and marvel of this antique Oriental rite, as
+viewed by Hindus. The monarch who was powerful enough to perform it
+chose a horse of pure white colour, "like the moon," with a saffron
+tail, and a black right ear; or the animal might be all black, without
+a speck of colour. This steed, wearing a gold plate on its forehead,
+with the royal name inscribed, was turned loose, and during a whole
+year the king's army was bound to follow its wanderings. Whithersoever
+it went, the ruler of the invaded territory must either pay homage to
+the king, and join him with his warriors, or accept battle; but
+whether conquered or peacefully submitting, all these princes must
+follow the horse, and at the end of the year assist at the sacrifice
+of the consecrated animal. Moreover, during the whole year the king
+must restrain all passion, live a perfectly purified life, and sleep
+on the bare ground. The white horse could not be loosened until the
+night of the full moon in _Chaitra_, which answers to the latter half
+of March and the first half of April,--in fact, at Easter-time; and it
+may be observed here that this is not the only strange coincidence in
+the sacrifice. It was thus an adventure of romantic conquest, mingled
+with deep religion and arrogant ostentation; and the entire
+description of the _Aswamedha_ would prove most interesting. The horse
+is found, is adorned with the golden plate, and turned loose,
+wandering into distant regions; where the army of Arjuna--for it was
+he who led Yudhishthira's forces--goes through twelve amazing
+adventures. They come, for instance, to a land of Amazons, all of
+wonderful beauty, wearing armour of pearls and gold, and equally fatal
+either to love or to fight with. These dazzling enemies, however,
+finally submit, as also the Rajah of the rich city of Babhruvahan,
+which possessed high walls of solid silver, and was lighted with
+precious jewels for lamps. The serpent people, in the same way, who
+live beneath the earth in the city of Vasuki, yield, after combat, to
+Arjuna. A thousand million semi-human snakemen dwelt there, with wives
+of consummate loveliness, possessing in their realm gems which would
+restore dead people to life, as well as a fountain of perpetual youth.
+Finally, Arjuna's host marches back in great glory, and with a vast
+train of vanquished monarchs, to the city of Hastinapura, where all
+the subject kings have audience of Yudhishthira, and the immense
+preparations begin for the sacrifice of the snow-white horse.
+
+After all these stately celebrations, it might be expected that the
+great poem would conclude with the established glories of the ancient
+dynasty. But if the martial part of the colossal epic is "Kshatriyan,"
+and the religious episodes "Brahmanic," the conclusion breathes the
+spirit of Buddhism. Yudhishthira sits grandly on the throne; but
+earthly greatness does not content the soul of man, nor can riches
+render weary hearts happy. A wonderful scene, which reads like a
+rebuke from the dead addressed to the living upon the madness of all
+war, occurs in this part of the poem. The Pandavas and the old King
+Dhritarashtra being together by the banks of the Ganges, the great
+saint Vyasa undertakes to bring back to them all the departed, slain
+in their fratricidal conflict. The spectacle is at once terrible and
+tender.
+
+But this revealing of the invisible world deepens the discontent of
+the princes, and when the sage Vyasa tells them that their prosperity
+is near its end, they determine to leave their kingdom to younger
+princes, and to set out with their faces towards Mount Meru, where is
+Indra's heaven. If, haply, they may reach it, there will be an end of
+this world's joys and sorrows, and "union with the Infinite" will be
+obtained. My translations from the Sanskrit of the two concluding
+parvas of the poem (of which the above is a swift summary) describe
+the "Last Journey" of the princes and their "Entry into Heaven;" and
+herein occurs one of the noblest religious apologues not only of this
+great Epic but of any creed,--a beautiful fable of faithful love
+which may be contrasted, to the advantage of the Hindu teaching, with
+any Scriptural representations of Death, and of Love, "which stronger
+is than Death." There is always something selfish in the anxiety of
+Orthodox people to save their own souls, and our best religious
+language is not free from that taint of pious egotism. The Parvas of
+the Mahabharata which contain Yudhishthira's approach to Indra's
+paradise teach, on the contrary, that deeper and better lesson nobly
+enjoined by an American poet--
+
+    "The gate of heaven opens to none alone,
+    Save thou one soul, and it shall save thine own."
+
+These prefatory remarks seemed necessary to introduce the subjoined
+close paraphrase of the "Book of the Great Journey,"--and the "Book of
+the Entry into Heaven;" being the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Parvas of
+the noble but, as yet, almost unknown Mahabharata.
+
+
+
+
+THE MAHAPRASTHANIKA PARVA OF THE MAHABHARATA.
+
+"THE GREAT JOURNEY."
+
+
+    _To Narayen, Lord of lords, be glory given,
+    To sweet Saraswati, the Queen in Heaven,
+    To great Vyasa, eke, pay reverence due,
+    So shall this story its high course pursue._
+
+    Then Janmejaya prayed: "Thou Singer, say,
+    What wrought the princes of the Pandavas
+    On tidings of the battle so ensued,
+    And Krishna, gone on high?"
+
+                                 Answered the Sage:
+    "On tidings of the wreck of Vrishni's race,
+    King Yudhishthira of the Pandavas
+    Was minded to be done with earthly things,
+    And to Arjuna spake: 'O noble Prince,
+    Time endeth all; we linger, noose on neck,
+    Till the last day tightens the line, and kills.
+    Let us go forth to die, being yet alive,'
+    And Kunti's son, the great Arjuna, said:
+    'Let us go forth to die!--Time slayeth all;
+    We will find Death, who seeketh other men.'
+    And Bhimasena, hearing, answered: 'Yea!
+    We will find Death!' and Sahadev cried: 'Yea!'
+    And his twin brother Nakula: whereat
+    The princes set their faces for the Mount.
+
+    "But Yudhishthira--ere he left his realm,
+    To seek high ending--summoned Yuyutsu,
+    Surnamed of fights, and set him over all,
+    Regent, to rule in Parikshita's name
+    Nearest the throne; and Parikshita king
+    He crowned, and unto old Subhadra said:
+    'This, thy son's son, shall wear the Kuru crown,
+    And Yadu's offspring, Vajra, shall be first
+    In Yadu's house. Bring up the little prince
+    Here in our Hastinapur, but Vajra keep
+    At Indraprasth; and let it be thy last
+    Of virtuous works to guard the lads, and guide.'
+
+    "So ordering ere he went, the righteous king
+    Made offering of white water, heedfully,
+    To Vasudev, to Rama, and the rest,--
+    All funeral rites performing; next he spread
+    A funeral feast, whereat there sate as guests
+    Narada, Dwaipayana, Bharadwaj,
+    And Markandeya, rich in saintly years,
+    And Tajnavalkya, Hari, and the priests.
+    Those holy ones he fed with dainty meats
+    In kingliest wise, naming the name of Him
+    Who bears the bow: and--that it should be well
+    For him and his--gave to the Brahmanas
+    Jewels of gold and silver, lakhs on lakhs.
+    Fair broidered cloths, gardens and villages,
+    Chariots and steeds and slaves.
+
+                                 "Which being done,--
+    O Best of Bharat's line!--he bowed him low
+    Before his Guru's feet,--at Kripa's feet,
+    That sage all honoured,--saying, 'Take my prince;
+    Teach Parikshita as thou taughtest me;
+    For hearken, ministers and men of war!
+    Fixed is my mind to quit all earthly state.'
+    Full sore of heart were they, and sore the folk
+    To hear such speech, and bitter spread the word
+    Through town and country, that the king would go;
+    And all the people cried, 'Stay with us, Lord!'
+    But Yudhishthira knew the time was come,
+    Knew that life passes and that virtue lasts,
+    And put aside their love.
+
+                                 "So--with farewells
+    Tenderly took of lieges and of lords--
+    Girt he for travel, with his princely kin,
+    Great Yudhishthira, Dharma's royal son.
+    Crest-gem and belt and ornaments he stripped
+    From off his body, and, for broidered robe
+    A rough dress donned, woven of jungle-bark;
+    And what he did--O Lord of men!--so did
+    Arjuna, Bhima, and the twin-born pair,
+    Nakula with Sahadev, and she--in grace
+    The peerless--Draupadi. Lastly these six,
+    Thou son of Bharata! in solemn form
+    Made the high sacrifice of Naishtiki,
+    Quenching their flames in water at the close;
+    And so set forth, 'midst wailing of all folk
+    And tears of women, weeping most to see
+    The Princess Draupadi--that lovely prize
+    Of the great gaming, Draupadi the Bright--
+    Journeying afoot; but she and all the Five
+    Rejoiced, because their way lay heavenwards.
+
+    "Seven were they, setting forth,--princess and king,
+    The king's four brothers, and a faithful dog.
+    Those left Hastinapur; but many a man,
+    And all the palace household, followed them
+    The first sad stage; and, ofttimes prayed to part,
+    Put parting off for love and pity, still
+    Sighing 'A little farther!'--till day waned;
+    Then one by one they turned, and Kripa said,
+    'Let all turn back, Yuyutsu! These must go.'
+    So came they homewards, but the Snake-King's child,
+    Ulupi, leapt in Ganges, losing them;
+    And Chitranagad with her people went
+    Mournful to Munipoor, whilst the three queens
+    Brought Parikshita in.
+
+                                 "Thus wended they,
+    Pandu's five sons and loveliest Draupadi,
+    Tasting no meat, and journeying due east;
+    On righteousness their high hearts bent, to heaven
+    Their souls assigned; and steadfast trode their feet,
+    By faith upborne, past nullah, ran, and wood,
+    River and jheel and plain. King Yudhishthir
+    Walked foremost, Bhima followed, after him
+    Arjuna, and the twin-born brethren next,
+    Nakula with Sahadev; in whose still steps--
+    O Best of Bharat's offspring!--Draupadi,
+    That gem of women, paced; with soft, dark face,--
+    Beautiful, wonderful!--and lustrous eyes,
+    Clear-lined like lotus-petals; last the dog,
+    Following the Pandavas.
+
+                                 "At length they reach
+    The far Lauchityan Sea, which foameth white
+    Under Udayachala's ridge.--Know ye
+    That all this while Nakula had not ceased
+    Bearing the holy bow, named Gandiva,
+    And jewelled quiver, ever filled with shafts
+    Though one should shoot a thousand thousand times.
+    Here--broad across their path--the heroes see
+    Agni, the god. As though a mighty hill
+    Took form of front and breast and limb, he spake.
+    Seven streams of shining splendour rayed his brow,
+    While the dread voice said: 'I am Agni, chiefs!
+    O sons of Pandu, I am Agni! Hail!
+    O long-armed Yudhishthira, blameless king,--
+    O warlike Bhima,--O Arjuna, wise,--
+    O brothers twin-born from a womb divine,--
+    Hear! I am Agni, who consumed the wood
+    By will of Narayan for Arjuna's sake.
+    Let this your brother give Gandiva back--
+    The matchless bow: the use for it is o'er.
+    That gem-ringed battle-discus which he whirled
+    Cometh again to Krishna in his hand
+    For avatars to be; and need is none
+    Henceforth of this most excellent bright bow,
+    Gandiva, which I brought for Partha's aid
+    From high Varuna. Let it be returned.
+    Cast it herein!'
+
+                      "And all the princes said,
+    'Cast it, dear brother!' So Arjuna threw
+    Into that sea the quiver ever-filled,
+    And glittering bow. Then led by Agni's light,
+    Unto the south they turned, and so south-west,
+    And afterwards right west, until they saw
+    Dwaraka, washed and bounded by a main
+    Loud-thundering on its shores; and here--O Best!--
+    Vanished the God; while yet those heroes walked,
+    Now to the north-west bending, where long coasts
+    Shut in the sea of salt, now to the north,
+    Accomplishing all quarters, journeyed they;
+    The earth their altar of high sacrifice,
+    Which these most patient feet did pace around
+    Till Meru rose.
+
+                      "At last it rose! These Six,
+    Their senses subjugate, their spirits pure,
+    Wending alone, came into sight--far off
+    In the eastern sky--of awful Himavan;
+    And, midway in the peaks of Himavan,
+    Meru, the Mountain of all mountains, rose,
+    Whose head is Heaven; and under Himavan
+    Glared a wide waste of sand, dreadful as death.
+
+    "Then, as they hastened o'er the deadly waste,
+    Aiming for Meru, having thoughts at soul
+    Infinite, eager,--lo! Draupadi reeled,
+    With faltering heart and feet; and Bhima turned
+    Gazing upon her; and that hero spake
+    To Yudhishthira: 'Master, Brother, King
+    Why doth she fail? For never all her life
+    Wrought our sweet lady one thing wrong, I think.
+    Thou knowest, make us know, why hath she failed?'
+
+    "Then Yudhishthira answered: 'Yea, one thing.
+    She loved our brother better than all else,--
+    Better than heaven: that was her tender sin,
+    Fault of a faultless soul; she pays for that'
+    'So spake the monarch, turning not his eyes,
+    Though Draupadi lay dead--striding straight on
+    For Meru, heart-full of the things of heaven,
+    Perfect and firm. But yet a little space,
+    And Sahadev fell down, which Bhima seeing,
+    Cried once again: 'O King, great Madri's son
+    Stumbles and sinks. Why hath he sunk?--so true,
+    So brave and steadfast, and so free from pride!'
+
+    "'He was not free,' with countenance still fixed,
+    Quoth Yudhishthira; 'he was true and fast
+    And wise, yet wisdom made him proud; he hid
+    One little hurt of soul, but now it kills.'
+
+    "So saying, he strode on--Kunti's strong son--
+    And Bhima, and Arjuna followed him,
+    And Nakula, and the hound; leaving behind
+    Sahadev in the sands. But Nakula,
+    Weakened and grieved to see Sahadev fall--
+    His loved twin-brother--lagged and stayed; and next
+    Prone on his face he fell, that noble face
+    Which had no match for beauty in the land,--
+    Glorious and godlike Nakula! Then sighed
+    Bhima anew: 'Brother and Lord! the man
+    Who never erred from virtue, never broke
+    Our fellowship, and never in the world
+    Was matched for goodly perfectness of form
+    Or gracious feature,--Nakula has fallen!'
+
+    "But Yudhishthira, holding fixed his eyes,--
+    That changeless, faithful, all-wise king,--replied:
+    'Yea, but he erred. The godlike form he wore
+    Beguiled him to believe none like to him,
+    And he alone desirable, and things
+    Unlovely to be slighted. Self-love slays
+    Our noble brother. Bhima, follow! Each
+    Pays what his debt was.'
+
+                          "Which Arjuna heard,
+    Weeping to see them fall; and that stout son
+    Of Pandu, that destroyer of his foes,
+    That prince, who drove through crimson waves of war,
+    In old days, with his chariot-steeds of milk,
+    He, the arch-hero, sank! Beholding this,--
+    The yielding of that soul unconquerable,
+    Fearless, divine, from Sakra's self derived,
+    Arjuna's,--Bhima cried aloud: 'O king!
+    This man was surely perfect. Never once,
+    Not even in slumber when the lips are loosed,
+    Spake he one word that was not true as truth.
+    Ah, heart of gold, why art thou broke? O King!
+    Whence falleth he?'
+
+                          "And Yudhishthira said,
+    Not pausing: 'Once he lied, a lordly lie!
+    He bragged--our brother--that a single day
+    Should see him utterly consume, alone,
+    All those his enemies,--which could not be.
+    Yet from a great heart sprang the unmeasured speech.
+    Howbeit, a finished hero should not shame
+    Himself in such wise, nor his enemy,
+    If he will faultless fight and blameless die:
+    This was Arjuna's sin. Follow thou me!'
+
+    "So the king still went on. But Bhima next
+    Fainted, and stayed upon the way, and sank;
+    Yet, sinking cried, behind the steadfast prince:
+    'Ah, brother, see! I die! Look upon me,
+    Thy well-beloved! Wherefore falter I,
+    Who strove to stand?'
+
+                          "And Yudhishthira said:
+    'More than was well the goodly things of earth
+    Pleased thee, my pleasant brother! Light the offence,
+    And large thy virtue; but the o'er-fed flesh
+    Plumed itself over spirit. Pritha's son,
+    For this thou failest, who so near didst gain.'
+
+    "Thenceforth alone the long-armed monarch strode,
+    Not looking back,--nay! not for Bhima's sake,--
+    But walking with his face set for the Mount:
+    And the hound followed him,--only the hound.
+
+    "After the deathly sands, the Mount! and lo!
+    Sakra shone forth,--the God, filling the earth
+    And heavens with thunder of his chariot-wheels.
+    'Ascend,' he said, 'with me, Pritha's great son!'
+    But Yudhishthira answered, sore at heart
+    For those his kinsfolk, fallen on the way:
+    'O Thousand-eyed, O Lord of all the Gods,
+    Give that my brothers come with me, who fell!
+    Not without them is Swarga sweet to me.
+    She too, the dear and kind and queenly,--she
+    Whose perfect virtue Paradise must crown,--
+    Grant her to come with us! Dost thou grant this?'
+
+    "The God replied: 'In heaven thou shalt see
+    Thy kinsmen and the queen--these will attain--
+    With Krishna. Grieve no longer for thy dead,
+    Thou chief of men! their mortal covering stripped,
+    They have their places; but to thee the gods
+    Allot an unknown grace: thou shalt go up
+    Living and in thy form to the immortal homes.'
+
+    "But the king answered: 'O thou Wisest One,
+    Who know'st what was, and is, and is to be,
+    Still one more grace! This hound hath ate with me,
+    Followed me, loved me: must I leave him now?'
+
+    "'Monarch,' spake Indra, 'thou art now as We,--
+    Deathless, divine; thou art become a god;
+    Glory and power and gifts celestial,
+    And all the joys of heaven are thine for aye:
+    What hath a beast with these? Leave here thy hound.'
+
+    "Yet Yudhishthira answered: 'O Most High,
+    O Thousand-eyed and Wisest! can it be
+    That one exalted should seem pitiless?
+    Nay, let me lose such glory: for its sake
+    I would not leave one living thing I loved.'
+
+    "Then sternly Indra spake: 'He is unclean,
+    And into Swarga such shall enter not.
+    The Krodhavasha's hand destroys the fruits
+    Of sacrifice, if dogs defile the fire.
+    Bethink thee, Dharmaraj, quit now this beast!
+    That which is seemly is not hard of heart.'
+
+    "Still he replied: ''Tis written that to spurn
+    A suppliant equals in offence to slay
+    A twice-born; wherefore, not for Swarga's bliss
+    Quit I, Mahendra, this poor clinging dog,--
+    So without any hope or friend save me,
+    So wistful, fawning for my faithfulness,
+    So agonized to die, unless I help
+    Who among men was called steadfast and just.'
+
+    "Quoth Indra: 'Nay! the altar-flame is foul
+    Where a dog passeth; angry angels sweep
+    The ascending smoke aside, and all the fruits
+    Of offering, and the merit of the prayer
+    Of him whom a hound toucheth. Leave it here!
+    He that will enter heaven must enter pure.
+    Why didst thou quit thy brethren on the way,
+    Quit Krishna, quit the dear-loved Draupadi,
+    Attaining, firm and glorious, to this Mount
+    Through perfect deeds, to linger for a brute?
+    Hath Yudhishthira vanquished self, to melt
+    With one poor passion at the door of bliss?
+    Stay'st thou for this, who didst not stay for them,--
+    Draupadi, Bhima?'
+
+                          "But the king yet spake:
+    ''Tis known that none can hurt or help the dead.
+    They, the delightful ones, who sank and died,
+    Following my footsteps, could not live again
+    Though I had turned,--therefore I did not turn;
+    But could help profit, I had turned to help.
+    There be four sins, O Sakra, grievous sins:
+    The first is making suppliants despair,
+    The second is to slay a nursing wife,
+    The third is spoiling Brahmans' goods by force,
+    The fourth is injuring an ancient friend.
+    These four I deem not direr than the sin,
+    If one, in coming forth from woe to weal,
+    Abandon any meanest comrade then.'
+
+    "Straight as he spake, brightly great Indra smiled;
+    Vanished the hound;--and in its stead stood there
+    The Lord of Death and Justice, Dharma's self!
+    Sweet were the words which fell from those dread lips,
+    Precious the lovely praise: 'O thou true king,
+    Thou that dost bring to harvest the good seed
+    Of Pandu's righteousness; thou that hast ruth
+    As he before, on all which lives!--O Son,
+    I tried thee in the Dwaita wood, what time
+    The Yaksha smote them, bringing water; then
+    Thou prayedst for Nakula's life--tender and just--
+    Not Bhima's nor Arjuna's, true to both,
+    To Madri as to Kunti, to both queens.
+    Hear thou my word! Because thou didst not mount
+    This car divine, lest the poor hound be shent
+    Who looked to thee, lo! there is none in heaven
+    Shall sit above thee, King!--Bharata's son,
+    Enter thou now to the eternal joys,
+    Living and in thy form. Justice and Love
+    Welcome thee, Monarch! thou shalt throne with us!'
+
+    "Thereat those mightiest Gods, in glorious train,
+    Mahendra, Dharma,--with bright retinue
+    Of Maruts, Saints, Aswin-Kumaras, Nats,
+    Spirits and Angels,--bore the king aloft,
+    The thundering chariot first, and after it
+    Those airy-moving Presences. Serene,
+    Clad in great glory, potent, wonderful,
+    They glide at will,--at will they know and see,
+    At wish their wills are wrought; for these are pure,
+    Passionless, hallowed, perfect, free of earth,
+    In such celestial midst the Pandu king
+    Soared upward; and a sweet light filled the sky
+    And fell on earth, cast by his face and form,
+    Transfigured as he rose; and there was heard
+    The voice of Narad,--it is he who sings,
+    Sitting in heaven, the deeds that good men do
+    In all the quarters,--Narad, chief of bards,
+    Narad the wise, who laudeth purity,--
+    So cried he: 'Thou art risen, unmatched king,
+    Whose greatness is above all royal saints.
+    Hail, son of Pandu! like to thee is none
+    Now or before among the sons of men,
+    Whose fame hath filled the three wide worlds, who com'st
+    Bearing thy mortal body, which doth shine
+    With radiance as a god's.'
+
+                          "The glad king heard
+    Narad's loud praise; he saw the immortal gods,--
+    Dharma, Mahendra; and dead chiefs and saints,
+    Known upon earth, in blessed heaven he saw;
+    But only those. 'I do desire,' he said,
+    'That region, be it of the Blest as this,
+    Or of the Sorrowful some otherwhere,
+    Where my dear brothers are, and Draupadi.
+    I cannot stay elsewhere! I see them not!'
+
+    "Then answer made Purandara, the God:
+    'O thou compassionate and noblest One,
+    Rest in the pleasures which thy deeds have gained.
+    How, being as are the Gods, canst thou live bound
+    By mortal chains? Thou art become of Us,
+    Who live above hatred and love, in bliss
+    Pinnacled, safe, supreme. Sun of thy race.
+    Thy brothers cannot reach where thou hast climbed:
+    Most glorious lord of men, let not thy peace
+    Be touched by stir of earth! Look! this is Heaven.
+    See where the saints sit, and the happy souls,
+    Siddhas and angels, and the gods who live
+    For ever and for ever.'
+
+                          "'King of gods,'
+    Spake Yudhishthira, 'but I will not live
+    A little space without those souls I loved.
+    O Slayer of the demons! let me go
+    Where Bhima and my brothers are, and she,
+    My Draupadi, the princess with the face
+    Softer and darker than the Vrihat-leaf,
+    And soul as sweet as are its odours. Lo!
+    Where they have gone, there will I surely go,'"
+
+
+
+
+_THE ILIAD OF INDIA._
+
+THE SWARGAROHANA PARVA OF THE MAHABHARATA; OR, "THE ENTRY INTO
+HEAVEN."
+
+
+    _To Narayen, Lord of lords, be glory given,
+    To Queen Saraswati be praise in heaven;
+    Unto Vyasa pay the reverence due,--
+    So may this story its high course pursue._
+
+    Then Janmejaya said: "I am fain to learn
+    How it befell with my great forefathers,
+    The Pandu chiefs and Dhritarashtra's sons,
+    Being to heaven ascended. If thou know'st,--
+    And thou know'st all, whom wise Vyasa taught--
+    Tell me, how fared it with those mighty souls?"
+
+    Answered the Sage: "Hear of thy forefathers--
+    Great Yudhishthira and the Pandu lords--
+    How it befell. When thus the blameless king
+    Was entered into heaven, there he beheld
+    Duryodhana, his foe, throned as a god
+    Amid the gods; splendidly sate that prince,
+    Peaceful and proud, the radiance of his brows
+    Far-shining like the sun's; and round him thronged
+    Spirits of light, with Sadhyas,--companies
+    Goodly to see. But when the king beheld
+    Duryodhana in bliss, and not his own,--
+    Not Draupadi, nor Bhima, nor the rest,--
+    With quick-averted face and angry eyes
+    The monarch spake: 'Keep heaven for such as these
+    If these come here! I do not wish to dwell
+    Where he is, whom I hated rightfully,
+    Being a covetous and witless prince,
+    Whose deed it was that in wild fields of war
+    Brothers and friends by mutual slaughter fell,
+    While our swords smote, sharpened so wrathfully
+    By all those wrongs borne wandering in the woods:
+    But Draupadi's the deepest wrong, for he--
+    He who sits there--haled her before the court,
+    Seizing that sweet and virtuous lady--he!--
+    With grievous hand wound in her tresses. Gods,
+    I cannot look upon him! Sith 'tis so,
+    Where are my brothers? Thither will I go!'
+
+    "Smiling, bright Narada, the Sage, replied:
+    'Speak thou not rashly! Say not this, O King!
+    Those who come here lay enmities aside.
+    O Yudhishthira, long-armed monarch, hear!
+    Duryodhana is cleansed of sin; he sits
+    Worshipful as the saints, worshipped by saints
+    And kings who lived and died in virtue's path,
+    Attaining to the joys which heroes gain
+    Who yield their breath in battle. Even so
+    He that did wrong thee, knowing not thy worth,
+    Hath won before thee hither, raised to bliss
+    For lordliness, and valour free of fear.
+    Ah, well-beloved Prince! ponder thou not
+    The memory of that gaming, nor the griefs
+    Of Draupadi, nor any vanished hurt
+    Wrought in the passing shows of life by craft
+    Or wasteful war. Throne happy at the side
+    Of this thy happy foeman,--wiser now;
+    For here is Paradise, thou chief of men!
+    And in its holy air hatreds are dead.'
+
+    "Thus by such lips addressed the Pandu king
+    Answered uncomforted: 'Duryodhana,
+    If he attains, attains; yet not the less
+    Evil he lived and ill he died,--a heart
+    Impious and harmful, bringing woes to all,
+    To friends and foes. His was the crime which cost
+    Our land its warriors, horses, elephants;
+    His the black sin that set us in the field,
+    Burning for rightful vengeance. Ye are gods,
+    And just; and ye have granted heaven to him.
+    Show me the regions, therefore, where they dwell,
+    My brothers, those, the noble-souled, the loyal,
+    Who kept the sacred laws, who swerved no step
+    From virtue's path, who spake the truth, and lived
+    Foremost of warriors. Where is Kunti's son,
+    The hero-hearted Karna? Where are gone
+    Satyaki, Dhrishtadyumna, with their sons?
+    And where those famous chiefs who fought for me.
+    Dying a splendid death? I see them not.
+    O Narada, I see them not! No King
+    Draupada! no Virata! no glad face
+    Of Dhrisktaketu! no Shikandina,
+    Prince of Panchala, nor his princely boys!
+    Nor Abhimanyu the unconquerable!
+    President Gods of heaven! I see not here
+    Radha's bright son, nor Yudhamanyu,
+    Nor Uttamanjaso, his brother dear!
+    Where are those noble Maharashtra lords,
+    Rajahs and rajpoots, slain for love of me?
+    Dwell they in glory elsewhere, not yet seen?
+    If they be here, high Gods! and those with them
+    For whose sweet sakes I lived, here will I live,
+    Meek-hearted; but if such be not adjudged
+    Worthy, I am not worthy, nor my soul
+    Willing to rest without them. Ah, I burn,
+    Now in glad heaven, with grief, bethinking me
+    Of those my mother's words, what time I poured
+    Death-water for my dead at Kurkshetra,--
+    "Pour for Prince Karna, Son!" but I wist not
+    His feet were as my mother's feet, his blood
+    Her blood, my blood. O Gods! I did not know,--
+    Albeit Sakra's self had failed to break
+    Our battle, where _he_ stood. I crave to see
+    Surya's child, that glorious chief who fell
+    By Saryasachi's hand, unknown of me;
+    And Bhima! ah, my Bhima! dearer far
+    Than life to me; Arjuna, like a god,
+    Nakla and Sahadev, twin lords of war,
+    With tenderest Draupadi! Show me those souls!
+    I cannot tarry where I have them not.
+    Bliss is not blissful, just and mighty Ones!
+    Save if I rest beside them. Heaven is there
+    Where Love and Faith make heaven. Let me go!'
+
+    "And answer made the hearkening heavenly Ones:
+    'Go, if it seemeth good to thee, dear Son!
+    The King of gods commands we do thy will.'"
+
+    So saying [the Bard went on] Dharma's own voice
+    Gave ordinance, and from the shining bands
+    A golden Deva glided, taking hest
+    To guide the king there where his kinsmen were.
+    So wended these, the holy angel first,
+    And in his steps the king, close following.
+    Together passed they through the gates of pearl,
+    Together heard them close; then to the left
+    Descending, by a path evil and dark,
+    Hard to be traversed, rugged, entered they
+    The 'SINNERS' ROAD.' The tread of sinful feet
+    Matted the thick thorns carpeting its slope;
+    The smell of sin hung foul on them; the mire
+    About their roots was trampled filth of flesh
+    Horrid with rottenness, and splashed with gore
+    Curdling in crimson puddles; where there buzzed
+    And sucked and settled creatures of the swamp,
+    Hideous in wing and sting, gnat-clouds and flies,
+    With moths, toads, newts, and snakes red-gulleted,
+    And livid, loathsome worms, writhing in slime
+    Forth from skull-holes and scalps and tumbled bones.
+    A burning forest shut the roadside in
+    On either hand, and 'mid its crackling boughs
+    Perched ghastly birds, or flapped amongst the flames,--
+    Vultures and kites and crows,--with brazen plumes
+    And beaks of iron; and these grisly fowl
+    Screamed to the shrieks of Prets, lean, famished ghosts,
+    Featureless, eyeless, having pin-point mouths,
+    Hungering, but hard to fill,--all swooping down
+    To gorge upon the meat of wicked ones;
+    Whereof the limbs disparted, trunks and heads,
+    Offal and marrow, littered all the way.
+    By such a path the king passed, sore afeared
+    If he had known of fear, for the air stank
+    With carrion stench, sickly to breathe; and lo!
+    Presently 'thwart the pathway foamed a flood
+    Of boiling waves, rolling down corpses. This
+    They crossed, and then the Asipatra wood
+    Spread black in sight, whereof the undergrowth
+    Was sword-blades, spitting, every blade, some wretch;
+    All around poison trees; and next to this,
+    Strewn deep with fiery sands, an awful waste,
+    Wherethrough the wicked toiled with blistering feet,
+    'Midst rocks of brass, red hot, which scorched, and pools
+    Of bubbling pitch that gulfed them. Last the gorge
+    Of Kutashala Mali,--frightful gate
+    Of utmost Hell, with utmost horrors filled.
+    Deadly and nameless were the plagues seen there;
+    Which when the monarch reached, nigh overborne
+    By terrors and the reek of tortured flesh,
+    Unto the angel spake he: 'Whither goes
+    This hateful road, and where be they I seek,
+    Yet find not?' Answer made the heavenly One:
+    'Hither, great King, it was commanded me
+    To bring thy steps. If thou be'st overborne,
+    It is commanded that I lead thee back
+    To where the Gods wait. Wilt thou turn and mount?'
+
+    "Then (O thou Son of Bharat!) Yudhishthir
+    Turned heavenward his face, so was he moved
+    With horror and the hanging stench, and spent
+    By toil of that black travel. But his feet
+    Scarce one stride measured, when about the place
+    Pitiful accents rang: 'Alas, sweet King!--
+    Ah, saintly Lord!--Ah, Thou that hast attained
+    Place with the Blessed, Pandu's offspring!--pause
+    A little while, for love of us who cry!
+    Nought can harm _thee_ in all this baneful place;
+    But at thy coming there 'gan blow a breeze
+    Balmy and soothing, bringing us relief.
+    O Pritha's son, mightiest of men! we breathe
+    Glad breath again to see thee; we have peace
+    One moment in our agonies. Stay here
+    One moment more, Bharata's child! Go not,
+    Thou Victor of the Kurus! Being here,
+    Hell softens and our bitter pains relax.'
+
+    "These pleadings, wailing all around the place,
+    Heard the King Yudhishthira,--words of woe
+    Humble and eager; and compassion seized
+    His lordly mind. 'Poor souls unknown!' he sighed,
+    And hellwards turned anew; for what those were.
+    Whence such beseeching voices, and of whom,
+    That son of Pandu wist not,--only wist
+    That all the noxious murk was filled with forms,
+    Shadowy, in anguish, crying grace of him.
+    Wherefore he called aloud,'Who speaks with me?
+    What do ye here, and what things suffer ye?'
+    Then from the black depth piteously there came
+    Answers of whispered suffering: 'Karna I,
+    O King!' and yet another,'O my Liege,
+    Thy Bhima speaks!' and then a voice again,
+    'I am Arjuna, Brother!' and again,
+    'Nakla is here and Sahadev!' and last
+    A moan of music from the darkness sighed,
+    'Draupadi cries to thee!' Thereat broke forth
+    The monarch's spirit,--knowing so the sound
+    Of each familiar voice,--'What doom is this?
+    What have my well-beloved wrought to earn
+    Death with the damned, or life loathlier than death
+    In Narak's midst? Hath Karna erred so deep,
+    Bhima, Arjuna, or the glorious twins,
+    Or she, the slender-waisted, sweetest, best,
+    My princess,--that Duryodhana should sit
+    Peaceful in Paradise with all his crew,
+    Throned by Mahendra and the shining gods?
+    How should these fail of bliss, and he attain?
+    What were their sins to his, their splendid faults?
+    For if they slipped, it was in virtue's way
+    Serving good laws, performing holy rites,
+    Boundless in gifts and faithful to the death.
+    These be their well-known voices! Are ye here,
+    Souls I loved best? Dream I, belike, asleep,
+    Or rave I, maddened with accursed sights
+    And death-reeks of this hellish air?'
+
+                                     "Thereat
+    For pity and for pain the king waxed wroth.
+    That soul fear could not shake, nor trials tire,
+    Burned terrible with tenderness, the while
+    His eyes searched all the gloom, his planted feet
+    Stood fast in the mid horrors. Well-nigh, then,
+    He cursed the gods; well-nigh that steadfast mind
+    Broke from its faith in virtue. But he stayed
+    Th' indignant passion, softly speaking this
+    Unto the angel: 'Go to those thou serv'st;
+    Tell them I come not thither. Say I stand
+    Here in the throat of hell, and here will bide--
+    Nay, if I perish--while my well-belov'd
+    Win ease and peace by any pains of mine.'
+
+    "Whereupon, nought replied the shining One,
+    But straight repaired unto the upper light,
+    Where Sakra sate above the gods, and spake
+    Before the gods the message of the king."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Afterward what befell?" the prince inquired.
+
+    "Afterward, Princely One!" replied the Sage,
+    "At hearing and at knowing that high deed
+    (Great Yudhishthira braving hell for love),
+    The Presences of Paradise uprose,
+    Each Splendour in his place,--god Sakra chief;
+    Together rose they, and together stepped
+    Down from their thrones, treading the nether road
+    Where Yudhishthira tarried. Sakra led
+    The shining van, and Dharma, Lord of laws,
+    Paced glorious next. O Son of Bharata,
+    While that celestial company came down--
+    Pure as the white stars sweeping through the sky,
+    And brighter than their brilliance--look! Hell's shades
+    Melted before them; warm gleams drowned the gloom;
+    Soft, lovely scenes rolled over the ill sights;
+    Peace calmed the cries of torment; in its bed
+    The boiling river shrank, quiet and clear;
+    The Asipatra Vana--awful wood--
+    Blossomed with colours; all those cruel blades,
+    And dreadful rocks, and piteous scattered wreck
+    Of writhing bodies, where the king had passed,
+    Vanished as dreams fade. Cool and fragrant went
+    A wind before their faces, as these Gods
+    Drew radiant to the presence of the king,--
+    Maruts; and Vasus eight, who shine and serve
+    Round Indra; Rudras; Aswins; and those Six
+    Immortal Lords of light beyond our light,
+    Th' Adityas; Saddhyas; Siddhas,--those were there,
+    With angels, saints, and habitants of heaven,
+    Smiling resplendent round the steadfast prince.
+
+    "Then spake the God of gods these gracious words
+    To Yudhishthira, standing in that place:--
+    "'King Yudhishthira! O thou long-armed Lord,
+    This is enough! All heaven is glad of thee.
+    It is enough! Come, thou most blessed one.
+    Unto thy peace, well-gained. Lay now aside
+    Thy loving wrath, and hear the speech of Heaven.
+    It is appointed that all kings see hell.
+    The reckonings for the life of men are twain:
+    Of each man's righteous deeds a tally true,
+    A tally true of each man's evil deeds.
+    Who hath wrought little right, to him is paid
+    A little bliss in Swarga, then the woe
+    Which purges; who much right hath wrought, from him
+    The little ill by lighter pains is cleansed,
+    And then the joys. Sweet is peace after pain,
+    And bitter pain which follows peace; yet they,
+    Who sorely sin, taste of the heaven they miss,
+    And they that suffer quit their debt at last.
+    Lo! We have loved thee, laying hard on thee
+    Grievous assaults of soul, and this black road.
+    Bethink thee: by a semblance once, dear Son!
+    Drona thou didst beguile; and once, dear Son!
+    Semblance of hell hath so thy sin assoiled,
+    "Which passeth with these shadows. Even thus
+    Thy Bhima came a little space t' account,
+    Draupadi, Krishna,--all whom thou didst love,
+    Never again to lose! Come, First of Men!
+    These be delivered and their quittance made.
+    Also the princes, son of Bharata!
+    Who fell beside thee fighting, have attained.
+    Come thou to see! Karna, whom thou didst mourn,--
+    That mightiest archer, master in all wars,--
+    He hath attained, shining as doth the sun;
+    Come thou and see! Grieve no more, King of Men!
+    Whose love helped them and thee, and hath its meed.
+    Rajas and maharajahs, warriors, aids,--
+    All thine are thine for ever. Krishna waits
+    To greet thee coming, 'companied by gods,
+    Seated in heaven, from toils and conflicts saved.
+    Son! there is golden fruit of noble deeds,
+    Of prayer, alms, sacrifice. The most just Gods
+    Keep thee thy place above the highest saints,
+    Where thou shalt sit, divine, compassed about
+    With royal souls in bliss, as Hari sits;
+    Seeing Mandhata crowned, and Bhagirath,
+    Daushyanti, Bharata, with all thy line.
+    Now therefore wash thee in this holy stream,
+    Gunga's pure fount, whereof the bright waves bless
+    All the Three Worlds. It will so change thy flesh
+    To likeness of th' immortal, thou shalt leave
+    Passions and aches and tears behind thee there.'
+
+    "And when the awful Sakra thus had said,
+    Lo! Dharma spake,--th' embodied Lord of Right:
+
+    "'Bho! bho! I am well pleased! Hail to thee, Chief!
+    Worthy, and wise, and firm. Thy faith is full,
+    Thy virtue, and thy patience, and thy truth,
+    And thy self-mastery. Thrice I put thee, King!
+    Unto the trial. In the Dwaita wood,
+    The day of sacrifice,--then thou stood'st fast;
+    Next, on thy brethren's death and Draupadi's,
+    When, as a dog, I followed thee, and found
+    Thy spirit constant to the meanest friend.
+    Here was the third and sorest touchstone, Son!
+    That thou shouldst hear thy brothers cry in hell,
+    And yet abide to help them. Pritha's child,
+    We love thee! Thou art fortunate and pure,
+    Past trials now. Thou art approved, and they
+    Thou lov'st have tasted hell only a space,
+    Not meriting to suffer more than when
+    An evil dream doth come, and Indra's beam
+    Ends it with radiance--as this vision ends.
+    It is appointed that all flesh see death,
+    And therefore thou hast borne the passing pangs,
+    Briefest for thee, and brief for those of thine,--
+    Bhima the faithful, and the valiant twins
+    Nakla and Sahadev, and those great hearts
+    Karna, Arjuna, with thy princess dear,
+    Draupadi. Come, thou best-beloved Son,
+    Blessed of all thy line! Bathe in this stream,--
+    It is great Gunga, flowing through Three Worlds.'
+
+    "Thus high-accosted, the rejoicing king
+    (Thy ancestor, O Liege!) proceeded straight
+    Unto that river's brink, which floweth pure
+    Through the Three Worlds, mighty, and sweet, and praised.
+    There, being bathed, the body of the king
+    Put off its mortal, coming up arrayed
+    In grace celestial, washed from soils of sin,
+    From passion, pain, and change. So, hand in hand
+    With brother-gods, glorious went Yudhishthir,
+    Lauded by softest minstrelsy, and songs
+    Of unknown music, where those heroes stood--
+    The princes of the Pandavas, his kin--
+    And lotus-eyed and lovliest Draupadi,
+    Waiting to greet him, gladdening and glad."
+
+
+
+
+_FROM THE "SAUPTIKA PARVA" OF THE MAHABHARATA,_
+
+OR
+
+_"NIGHT OF SLAUGHTER."_
+
+
+    _To Narayen, Best of Lords, be glory given,
+    To great Saraswati, the Queen in Heaven;
+    Unto Vyasa, too, be paid his meed,
+    So shall this story worthily proceed._
+
+    "Those vanquished warriors then," Sanjaya said,
+    "Fled southwards; and, near sunset, past the tents,
+    Unyoked; abiding close in fear and rage.
+    There was a wood beyond the camp,--untrod,
+    Quiet,--and in its leafy harbour lay
+    The Princes, some among them bleeding still
+    From spear and arrow-gashes; all sore-spent,
+    Fetching faint breath, and fighting o'er again
+    In thought that battle. But there came the noise
+    Of Pandavas pursuing,--fierce and loud
+    Outcries of victory--whereat those chiefs
+    Sullenly rose, and yoked their steeds again,
+    Driving due east; and eastward still they drave
+    Under the night, till drouth and desperate toil
+    Stayed horse and man; then took they lair again,
+    The panting horses, and the Warriors, wroth
+    With chilled wounds, and the death-stroke of their King.
+
+    "Now were they come, my Prince," Sanjaya said,
+    "Unto a jungle thick with stems, whereon
+    The tangled creepers coiled; here entered they--
+    Watering their horses at a stream--and pushed
+    Deep in the thicket. Many a beast and bird
+    Sprang startled at their feet; the long grass stirred
+    With serpents creeping off; the woodland flowers
+    Shook where the pea-fowl hid, and, where frogs plunged,
+    The swamp rocked all its reeds and lotus-buds.
+    A banian-tree, with countless dropping boughs
+    Earth-rooted, spied they, and beneath its aisles
+    A pool; hereby they stayed, tethering their steeds,
+    And dipping water, made the evening prayer.
+
+    "But when the 'Day-maker' sank in the west
+    And Night descended--gentle, soothing Night,
+    Who comforts all, with silver splendour decked
+    Of stars and constellations, and soft folds
+    Of velvet darkness drawn--then those wild things
+    Which roam in darkness woke, wandering afoot
+    Under the gloom. Horrid the forest grew
+    With roar, and yelp, and yell, around that place
+    Where Kripa, Kritavarman, and the son
+    Of Drona lay, beneath the banian-tree;
+    Full many a piteous passage instancing
+    In their lost battle-day of dreadful blood;
+    Till sleep fell heavy on the wearied lids
+    Of Bhoja's child and Kripa. Then these Lords--
+    To princely life and silken couches used--
+    Sought on the bare earth slumber, spent and sad,
+    As houseless outcasts lodge.
+
+                              "But, Oh, my King!
+    There came no sleep to Drona's angry son,
+    Great Aswatthaman. As a snake lies coiled
+    And hisses, breathing, so his panting breath
+    Hissed rage and hatred round him, while he lay,
+    Chin uppermost, arm-pillowed, with fierce eyes
+    Roving the wood, and seeing sightlessly.
+    Thus chanced it that his wandering glances turned
+    Into the fig-tree's shadows, where there perched
+    A thousand crows, thick-roosting, on its limbs;
+    Some nested, some on branchlets, deep asleep,
+    Heads under wings--all fearless; nor, O Prince!
+    Had Aswatthaman more than marked the birds,
+    When, lo! there fell out of the velvet night,
+    Silent and terrible, an eagle-owl,
+    With wide, soft, deadly, dusky wings, and eyes
+    Flame-coloured, and long claws, and dreadful beak;
+    Like a winged sprite, or great Garood himself;
+    Offspring of Bharata! it lighted there
+    Upon the banian's bough; hooted, but low,
+    The fury smothering in its throat;--then fell
+    With murderous beak and claws upon those crows,
+    Rending the wings from this, the legs from that,
+    From some the heads, of some ripping the crops;
+    Till, tens and scores, the fowl rained down to earth
+    Bloody and plucked, and all the ground waxed black
+    With piled crow-carcases; whilst the great owl
+    Hooted for joy of vengeance, and again
+    Spread the wide, deadly, dusky wings.
+
+                                        "Up sprang
+    The son of Drona: 'Lo! this owl,' quoth he,
+    'Teacheth me wisdom; lo! one slayeth so
+    Insolent foes asleep. The Pandu Lords
+    Are all too strong in arms by day to kill;
+    They triumph, being many. Yet I swore
+    Before the King, my Father, I would "kill"
+    And "kill"--even as a foolish fly should swear
+    To quench a flame. It scorched, and I shall die
+    If I dare open battle; but by art
+    Men vanquish fortune and the mightiest odds.
+    If there be two ways to a wise man's wish,
+    Yet only one way sure, he taketh this;
+    And if it be an evil way, condemned
+    For Brahmans, yet the Kshattriya may do
+    What vengeance bids against his foes. Our foes,
+    The Pandavas, are furious, treacherous, base,
+    Halting at nothing; and how say the wise
+    In holy Shastras?--"Wounded, wearied, fed,
+    Or fasting; sleeping, waking, setting forth,
+    Or new arriving; slay thine enemies;"
+    And so again, "At midnight when they sleep,
+    Dawn when they watch not; noon if leaders fall;
+    Eve, should they scatter; all the times and hours
+    Are times and hours fitted for killing foes."'
+
+    "So did the son of Drona steel his soul
+    To break upon the sleeping Pandu chiefs
+    And slay them in the darkness. Being set
+    On this unlordly deed, and clear in scheme,
+    He from their slumbers roused the warriors twain,
+    Kripa and Kritavarman."
+
+
+
+
+_THE MORNING PRAYER._
+
+
+    Our Lord the Prophet (peace to him!) doth write--
+    Surah the Seventeenth, intituled "Night"--
+    "Pray at the noon; pray at the sinking sun;
+    In night-time pray; but most when night is done;
+    For daybreak's prayer is surely borne on high
+    By angels, changing guard within the sky;"
+    And in another place:--"Dawn's prayer is more
+    Than the wide world, with all its treasured store."
+
+    Therefore the Faithful, when the growing light
+    Gives to discern a black hair from a white,
+    Haste to the mosque, and, bending Mecca-way,
+    Recite _Al-Fatihah_ while 'tis scarce yet day:
+    "_Praise be to Allah--Lord of all that live:
+    Merciful King and Judge! To Thee we give
+    Worship and honour! Succour us, and guide
+    Where those have walked who rest Thy throne beside:
+    The way of Peace; the way of truthful speech;
+    The way of Righteousness. So we beseech._"
+    He that saith this, before the East is red,
+    A hundred prayers of Azan hath he said.
+
+    Hear now a story of it--told, I ween,
+    For your souls' comfort by Jelal-ud-din,
+    In the great pages of the Mesnevi;
+    For therein, plain and certain, shall ye see
+    How precious is the prayer at break of day
+    In Allah's ears, and in his sight alway
+    How sweet are reverence and gentleness
+    Shown to his creatures. Ali (whom I bless!)
+    The son of Abu Talib--he surnamed
+    "Lion of God," in many battles famed,
+    The cousin of our Lord the Prophet (grace
+    Be his!)--uprose betimes one morn, to pace--
+    As he was wont--unto the mosque, wherein
+    Our Lord (bliss live with him!) watched to begin
+    _Al-Fatihah_. Darkling was the sky, and strait
+    The lane between the city and mosque-gate,
+    By rough stones broken and deep pools of rain;
+    And there through toilfully, with steps of pain,
+    Leaning upon his staff an old Jew went
+    To synagogue, on pious errand bent:
+    For those be "People of the Book,"--and some
+    Are chosen of Allah's will, who have not come
+    Unto full light of wisdom. Therefore he
+    Ali--the Caliph of proud days to be--
+    Knowing this good old man, and why he stirred
+    Thus early, e'er the morning mills were heard,
+    Out of his nobleness and grace of soul
+    Would not thrust past, though the Jew blocked the whole
+    Breadth of the lane, slow-hobbling. So they went,
+    That ancient first; and in soft discontent,
+    After him Ali--noting how the sun
+    Flared nigh, and fearing prayer might be begun;
+    Yet no command upraising, no harsh cry
+    To stand aside;--because the dignity
+    Of silver hairs is much, and morning praise
+    Was precious to the Jew, too. Thus their ways
+    Wended the pair; Great Ali, sad and slow,
+    Following the greybeard, while the East, a-glow,
+    Blazed with bright spears of gold athwart the blue,
+    And the Muezzin's call came "_Illahu!
+    Allah-il-Allah!_"
+
+                          In the mosque, our Lord
+    (On whom be peace!) stood by the Mehrab-board
+    In act to bow, and _Fatihah_ forth to say.
+    But as his lips moved, some strong hand did lay
+    Over his mouth a palm invisible,
+    So that no voice on the Assembly fell.
+    "_Ya! Rabbi 'lalamina_" thrice he tried
+    To read, and thrice the sound of reading died,
+    Stayed by this unseen touch. Thereat amazed
+    Our Lord Muhammed turned, arose, and gazed;
+    And saw--alone of those within the shrine--
+    A splendid Presence, with large eyes divine
+    Beaming, and golden pinions folded down,
+    Their speed still tokened by the fluttered gown.
+    GABRIEL he knew, the spirit who doth stand
+    Chief of the Sons of Heav'n, at God's right hand:
+    "Gabriel! why stayest thou me?" the Prophet said,
+    "Since at this hour the _Fatihah_  should be read."
+
+    But the bright Presence, smiling, pointed where
+    Ali towards the outer gate drew near,
+    Upon the threshold shaking off his shoes
+    And giving "alms of entry," as men use.
+    "Yea!" spake th' Archangel, "sacred is the sound
+    Of morning-praise, and worth the world's wide round,
+    Though earth were pearl and silver; therefore I
+    Stayed thee, Muhammed, in the act to cry,
+    Lest Ali, tarrying in the lane, should miss,
+    For his good deed, its blessing and its bliss."
+
+    Thereat th' Archangel vanished:--and our Lord
+    Read _Fatihah_ forth beneath the Mehrab-board.
+
+
+
+
+_PROVERBIAL WISDOM_
+
+FROM THE
+
+_SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA_.
+
+
+DEDICATION
+
+(_TO FIRST EDITION_)
+
+
+    _To you, dear Wife--to whom beside so well?--
+      True Counsellor and tried, at every shift,
+    I bring my "Book of Counsels:" let it tell
+      Largeness of love by littleness of gift;_
+
+    _And take this growth of foreign skies from me,
+      (A scholar's thanks for gentle help in toil,)
+    Whose leaf, "though dark," like Milton's Hoemony,
+      "Bears a bright golden flower, if not in this soil."_
+
+_April 9, 1861._
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+_TO THE "BOOK OF GOOD COUNSELS."_
+
+
+The _Hitopadesa_ is a work of high antiquity and extended popularity.
+The prose is doubtless as old as our own era; but the intercalated
+verses and proverbs compose a selection from writings of an age
+extremely remote. The _Mahabharata_ and the textual _Veds_ are of
+those quoted; to the first of which Professor M. Williams (in his
+admirable edition of the _Nala_, 1860) assigns the modest date of 350
+B.C., while he claims for the _Rig-Veda_ an antiquity as high as 1300
+B.C. The _Hitopadesa_ may thus be fairly styled "The Father of all
+Fables;" for from its numerous translations have probably come Esop
+and Pilpay, and in latter days _Reineke Fuchs_. Originally compiled in
+Sanskrit, it was rendered, by order of Nushirvan, in the sixth century
+A.D., into Persic. From the Persic it passed, A.D. 850, into the
+Arabic, and thence into Hebrew and Greek. In its own land it obtained
+as wide a circulation. The Emperor Akbar, impressed with the wisdom of
+its maxims and the ingenuity of its apologues, commended the work of
+translating it to his own Vizier, Abdul Fazel. That Minister
+accordingly put the book into a familiar style, and published it with
+explanations, under the title of the _Criterion of Wisdom_. The
+Emperor had also suggested the abridgment of the long series of
+shlokes which here and there interrupt the narrative, and the Vizier
+found this advice sound, and followed it, like the present Translator.
+To this day, in India, the _Hitopadesa_, under its own or other names
+(as the _Anvari Suhaili_), retains the delighted attention of young
+and old, and has some representative in all the Indian vernaculars. A
+selection from the metrical Sanskrit proverbs and maxims is here
+given.
+
+
+_PROVERBIAL WISDOM_
+
+FROM THE
+
+_SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA._
+
+
+        _This Book of Counsel read, and you shall see,
+         Fair speech and Sanskrit lore, and Policy._
+
+    "Wise men, holding wisdom highest, scorn delights, more false than
+        fair;
+    Daily live as if Death's fingers twined already in thy hair!
+
+    "Truly, richer than all riches, better than the best of gain,
+    Wisdom is; unbought, secure--once won, none loseth her again.
+
+    "Bringing dark things into daylight, solving doubts that vex the mind,
+    Like an open eye is Wisdom--he that hath her not is blind."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Childless art thou? dead thy children? leaving thee to want and doole?
+    Less thy misery than his is, who lives father to a fool."
+
+    "One wise son makes glad his father, forty fools avail him not:
+    One moon silvers all that darkness which the silly stars did dot."
+
+    "Ease and health, obeisant children, wisdom, and a fair-voiced wife--
+    Thus, great King! are counted up the five felicities of life."
+
+    "For the son the sire is honoured; though the bow-cane bendeth true,
+    Let the strained string crack in using, and what service shall it do?"
+
+    "That which will not be, will not be--and what is to be, will be:
+    Why not drink this easy physic, antidote of misery?"
+
+    "Nay! but faint not, idly sighing, 'Destiny is mightiest,'
+    Sesamum holds oil in plenty, but it yieldeth none unpressed."
+
+    "Ah! it is the Coward's babble, 'Fortune taketh, Fortune gave;'
+    Fortune! rate her like a master, and she serves thee like a slave."
+
+    "Two-fold is the life we live in--Fate and Will together run:
+    Two wheels bear life's chariot onward--Will it move on only one?"
+
+    "Look! the clay dries into iron, but the potter moulds the clay:
+    Destiny to-day is master--Man was master yesterday."
+
+    "Worthy ends come not by wishing. Wouldst thou? Up, and win it, then!
+    While the hungry lion slumbers, not a deer comes to his den."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Silly glass, in splendid settings, something of the gold may gain;
+    And in company of wise ones, fools to wisdom may attain."
+
+    "Labours spent on the unworthy, of reward the labourer balk;
+    Like the parrot, teach the heron twenty words, he will not talk."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Ah! a thousand thoughts of sorrow, and a hundred things of dread,
+    By the fools unheeded, enter day by day the wise man's head."
+
+    "Of the day's impending dangers, Sickness, Death, and Misery,
+    One will be; the wise man, waking, ponders which that one will be."
+
+    "Good things come not out of bad things; wisely leave a longed-for ill.
+    Nectar being mixed with poison serves no purpose but to kill."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Give to poor men, son of Kunti--on the wealthy waste not wealth;
+    Good are simples for the sick man, good for nought to him in health."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Be his Scripture-learning wondrous, yet the cheat will be a cheat;
+    Be her pasture ne'er so bitter, yet the cow's milk will taste sweet."
+
+    "Trust not water, trust not weapons; trust not clawed nor horned
+        things;
+    Neither give thy soul to women, nor thy life to Sons of Kings."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Look! the Moon, the silver roamer, from whose splendour darkness
+        flies,
+    With his starry cohorts marching, like a crowned king, through the
+        skies:
+    All his grandeur, all his glory, vanish in the Dragon's jaw;
+    What is written on the forehead, that will be, and nothing more."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+            "Counsel in danger; of it
+               Unwarned, be nothing begun;
+             But nobody asks a Prophet,
+               Shall the risk of a dinner be run?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Avarice begetteth anger; blind desires from her begin;
+    A right fruitful mother is she of a countless spawn of sin."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Be second and not first!--the share's the same
+    If all go well. If not, the Head's to blame."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Passion will be Slave or Mistress: follow her, she brings to woe;
+    Lead her, 'tis the way to Fortune. Choose the path that thou wilt go."
+
+    "When the time of trouble cometh, friends may ofttimes irk us most:
+    For the calf at milking-hour the mother's leg is tying-post."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "In good-fortune not elated, in ill-fortune not dismayed,
+    Ever eloquent in council, never in the fight affrayed,
+    Proudly emulous of honour, steadfastly on wisdom set;
+    These six virtues in the nature of a noble soul are met.
+    Whoso hath them, gem and glory of the three wide worlds is he;
+    Happy mother she that bore him, she who nursed him on her knee."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Small things wax exceeding mighty, being cunningly combined;
+    Furious elephants are fastened with a rope of grass-blades twined."
+
+    "Let the household hold together, though the house be ne'er so small;
+    Strip the rice-husk from the rice-grain, and it groweth not at all."
+
+          "Sickness, anguish, bonds, and woe
+          Spring from wrongs wrought long ago."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Keep wealth for want, but spend it for thy wife,
+    And wife, and wealth, and all, to guard thy life."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Death, that must come, comes nobly when we give
+    Our wealth, and life, and all, to make men live."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Floating on his fearless pinions, lost amid the noonday skies,
+    Even thence the Eagle's vision kens the carcass where it lies;
+    But the hour that comes to all things comes unto the Lord of Air,
+    And he rushes, madly blinded, to die helpless in the snare."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Bar thy door not to the stranger, be he friend or be he foe,
+    For the tree will shade the woodman while his axe doth lay it low.
+
+    Greeting fair, and room to rest in; fire, and water from the well--
+    Simple gifts--are given freely in the house where good men dwell;--
+
+    Young, or bent with many winters; rich, or poor whate'er thy guest,
+    Honour him for thine own honour--better is he than the best.
+
+    "Pity them that crave thy pity: who art thou to stint thy hoard,
+    When the holy moon shines equal on the leper and the lord?"
+
+    When thy gate is roughly fastened, and the asker turns away,
+    Thence he bears thy good deeds with him, and his sins on thee doth lay.
+
+    In the house the husband ruleth; men the Brahman "master" call;
+    Agni is the Twice-born's Master--but the guest is lord of all.
+
+          "He who does and thinks no wrong--
+          He who suffers, being strong--
+          He whose harmlessness men know--
+          Unto Swarga such doth go."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "In the land where no wise men are, men of little wit are lords;
+    And the castor-oil's a tree, where no tree else its shade affords."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Foe is friend, and friend is foe,
+          As our actions make them so."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "That friend only is the true friend who abides when trouble comes;
+    That man only is the brave man who can bear the battle-drums;
+    Words are wind; deed proveth promise: he who helps at need is kin;
+    And the leal wife is loving though the husband lose or win."
+
+    "Friend and kinsman--more their meaning than the idle-hearted mind;
+    Many a friend can prove unfriendly, many a kinsman less than kind:
+    He who shares his comrade's portion, be he beggar, be he lord,
+    Comes as truly, comes as duly, to the battle as the board--
+    Stands before the king to succour, follows to the pile to sigh--
+    He is friend, and he is kinsman; less would make the name a lie."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Stars gleam, lamps flicker, friends foretell of fate;
+    The fated sees, knows, hears them--all too late."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Absent, flatterers' tongues are daggers--present, softer than the
+        silk;
+    Shun them! 'tis a draught of poison hidden under harmless milk;
+    Shun them when they promise little! Shun them when they promise much!
+    For enkindled, charcoal burneth--cold, it doth defile the touch."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "In years, or moons, or half-moons three,
+          Or in three days--suddenly,
+          Knaves are shent--true men go free."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Anger comes to noble natures, but leaves there no strife or storm:
+    Plunge a lighted torch beneath it, and the ocean grows not warm."
+
+    "Noble hearts are golden vases--close the bond true metals make;
+    Easily the smith may weld them, harder far it is to break.
+    Evil hearts are earthen vessels--at a touch they crack a-twain,
+    And what craftsman's ready cunning can unite the shards again?"
+
+    "Good men's friendships may be broken, yet abide they friends at heart;
+    Snap the stem of Luxmee's lotus, but its fibres will not part."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "One foot goes, and one foot stands,
+          When the wise man leaves his lands."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Over-love of home were weakness; wheresoe'er the hero come,
+    Stalwart arm and steadfast spirit find or make for him a home.
+    Little recks the awless lion where his hunting jungles lie--
+    When he enters them be certain that a royal prey shall die."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Very feeble folk are poor folk; money lost takes wit away:
+    All their doings fail like runnels, wasting through the summer day."
+
+    "Wealth is friends, home, father, brother--title to respect and fame;
+    Yea, and wealth is held for wisdom--that it should be so is shame."
+
+    "Home is empty to the childless; hearts to those who friends deplore:
+    Earth unto the idle-minded; and the three worlds to the poor."
+
+    "Say the sages, nine things name not: Age, domestic joys and woes,
+    Counsel, sickness, shame, alms, penance; neither Poverty disclose.
+    Better for the proud of spirit, death, than life with losses told;
+    Fire consents to be extinguished, but submits riot to be cold."
+
+          "As Age doth banish beauty,
+            As moonlight dies in gloom,
+          As Slavery's menial duty
+            Is Honour's certain tomb;
+
+          As Hari's name and Hara's
+            Spoken, charm sin away,
+          So Poverty can surely
+            A hundred virtues slay."
+
+    "Half-known knowledge, present pleasure purchased with a future woe,
+    And to taste the salt of service--greater griefs no man can know."
+
+    "All existence is not equal, and all living is not life;
+    Sick men live; and he who, banished, pines for children, home, and
+        wife;
+    And the craven-hearted eater of another's leavings lives,
+    And the wretched captive, waiting for the word of doom, survives;
+    But they bear an anguished body, and they draw a deadly breath;
+    And life cometh to them only on the happy day of death."
+
+    "Golden gift, serene Contentment! have thou that, and all is had;
+    Thrust thy slipper on, and think thee that the earth is leather-clad."
+
+    "All is known, digested, tested; nothing new is left to learn
+    When the soul, serene, reliant, Hope's delusive dreams can spurn."
+
+    "Hast thou never watched, awaiting till the great man's door unbarred?
+    Didst thou never linger parting, saying many a sad last word?
+    Spak'st thou never word of folly, one light thing thou would'st recall?
+    Rare and noble hath thy life been! fair thy fortune did befall!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "True Religion!--'tis not blindly prating what the gurus prate,
+    But to love, as God hath loved them, all things, be they small or
+        great;
+    And true bliss is when a sane mind doth a healthy body fill;
+    And true knowledge is the knowing what is good and what is ill."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Poisonous though the tree of life be, two fair blossoms grow thereon:
+    One, the company of good men; and sweet songs of Poets, one."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Give, and it shall swell thy getting; give, and thou shalt safer keep:
+    Pierce the tank-wall; or it yieldeth, when the water waxeth deep."
+
+    "When the miser hides his treasure in the earth, he doeth well;
+    For he opens up a passage that his soul may sink to hell."
+
+    "He whose coins are kept for counting, not to barter nor to give,
+    Breathe he like a blacksmith's bellows, yet in truth he doth not live."
+
+    "Gifts, bestowed with words of kindness, making giving doubly dear:
+    Wisdom, deep, complete, benignant, of all arrogancy clear;
+    Valour, never yet forgetful of sweet Mercy's pleading prayer;
+    Wealth, and scorn of wealth to spend it--oh! but these be virtues
+        rare!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Sentences of studied wisdom, nought avail they unapplied;
+    Though the blind man hold a lantern, yet his footsteps stray aside."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Would'st thou, know whose happy dwelling Fortune entereth unknown?
+    His, who careless of her favour, standeth fearless in his own;
+    His, who for the vague to-morrow barters not the sure to-day--
+    Master of himself, and sternly steadfast to the rightful way:
+    Very mindful of past service, valiant, faithful, true of heart--
+    Unto such comes Lakshmi smiling--comes, and will not lightly part."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Be not haughty, being wealthy; droop not, having lost thine all;
+    Fate doth play with mortal fortunes as a girl doth toss her ball."
+
+    "Worldly friendships, fair but fleeting; shadows of the clouds at noon;
+    Women, youth, new corn, and riches; these be pleasures passing soon."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "For thy bread be not o'er thoughtful--Heav'n for all hath taken
+        thought:
+    When the babe is born, the sweet milk to the mother's breast is
+        brought.
+
+    "He who gave the swan her silver, and the hawk her plumes of pride,
+    And his purples to the peacock--He will verily provide."
+
+    "Though for good ends, waste not on wealth a minute;
+    Mud may be wiped, but wise men plunge not in it."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Brunettes, and the Banyan's shadow,
+            Well-springs, and a brick-built wall,
+          Are all alike cool in the summer,
+            And warm in the winter--all."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Ah! the gleaming, glancing arrows of a lovely woman's eye!
+    Feathered with her jetty lashes, perilous they pass thee by:
+    Loosed at venture from the black bows of her arching brow, they part,
+    All too penetrant and deadly for an undefended heart."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Beautiful the Koil seemeth for the sweetness of his song,
+    Beautiful the world esteemeth pious souls for patience strong;
+    Homely features lack not favour when true wisdom they reveal,
+    And a wife is fair and honoured while her heart is firm and leal."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Friend! gracious word!--the heart to tell is ill able
+    Whence came to men this jewel of a syllable."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Whoso for greater quits small gain,
+          Shall have his labour for his pain;
+          The things unwon unwon remain,
+          And what was won is lost again."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Looking down on lives below them, men of little store are great;
+    Looking up to higher fortunes, hard to each man seems his fate."
+
+    "As a bride, unwisely wedded, shuns the cold caress of eld,
+    So, from coward souls and slothful, Lakshmi's favours turn repelled."
+
+    "Ease, ill-health, home-keeping, sleeping, woman-service, and content--
+    In the path that leads to greatness these be six obstructions sent."
+
+    "Seeing how the soorma wasteth, seeing how the ant-hill grows,
+    Little adding unto little--live, give, learn, as life-time, goes."
+
+    "Drops of water falling, falling, falling, brim the chatty o'er;
+    Wisdom comes in little lessons--little gains make largest store."
+
+          "Men their cunning schemes may spin--
+          God knows who shall lose or  win."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Shoot a hundred shafts, the quarry lives and flies--not due to death;
+    When his hour is come, a grass-blade hath a point to stop his breath."
+
+    "Robes were none, nor oil of unction, when the King of Beasts was
+        crowned:
+    'Twas his own fierce roar proclaimed him, rolling all the kingdom
+        round."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "What but for their vassals,
+            Elephant and man--
+          Swing of golden tassels,
+            Wave of silken fan--
+          But for regal manner
+            That the 'Chattra' brings,
+          Horse, and foot, and banner--
+            What would come of kings?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "At the work-time, asking wages--is it like a faithful herd?
+    When the work's done, grudging wages--is _that_ acting like a lord?"
+
+    "Serve the Sun with sweat of body; starve thy maw to feed the flame;
+    Stead thy lord with all thy service; to thy death go, quit of blame."
+
+    "Many prayers for him are uttered whereon many a life relies;
+    'Tis but one poor fool the fewer when the greedy jack-daw dies."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Give thy Dog the merest mouthful, and he crouches at thy feet,
+    Wags his tail, and fawns, and grovels, in his eagerness to eat;
+    Bid the Elephant be feeding, and the best of fodder bring;
+    Gravely--after much entreaty--condescends that mighty king."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "By their own deeds men go downward, by them men mount upward all,
+    Like the diggers of a well, and like the builders of a wall."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Rushes down the hill the crag, which upward 'twas so hard to roll:
+    So to virtue slowly rises--so to vice quick sinks the soul."
+
+          "Who speaks unasked, or comes unbid,
+          Or counts on service--will be chid."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Wise, modest, constant, ever close at hand,
+          Not weighing but obeying all command,
+          Such servant by a Monarch's throne may stand."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Pitiful, who fearing failure, therefore no beginning makes,
+    Why forswear a daily dinner for the chance of stomach-aches?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Nearest to the King is dearest, be thy merit low or high;
+    Women, creeping plants, and princes, twine round that which groweth
+        nigh."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Pearls are dull in leaden settings, but the setter is to blame;
+    Glass will glitter like the ruby, dulled with dust--are they the same?"
+
+    "And a fool may tread on jewels, setting in his turban glass;
+    Yet, at selling, gems are gems, and fardels but for fardels pass."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Horse and weapon, lute and volume, man and woman, gift of speech,
+    Have their uselessness or uses in the one who owneth each."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Not disparagement nor slander kills the spirit of the brave;
+    Fling a torch down, upward ever burns the brilliant flame it gave."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Wisdom from the mouth of children be it overpast of none;
+    What man scorns to walk by lamplight in the absence of the sun?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Strength serves Reason. Saith the Mahout, when he beats the brazen
+        drum,
+    'Ho! ye elephants, to this work must your mightinesses come.'"
+
+    "Mighty natures war with mighty: when the raging tempests blow,
+    O'er the green rice harmless pass they, but they lay the palm-trees
+        low."
+
+    "Narrow-necked to let out little, big of belly to keep much,
+    As a flagon is--the Vizier of a Sultan should be such."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "He who thinks a minute little, like a fool misuses more;
+    He who counts a cowry nothing, being wealthy, will be poor."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Brahmans, soldiers, these and kinsmen--of the three set none in
+        charge:
+    For the Brahman, though you rack him, yields no treasure small or
+        large;
+    And the soldier, being trusted, writes his quittance with his sword,
+    And the kinsman cheats his kindred by the charter of the word;
+    But a servant old in service, worse than any one is thought,
+    Who, by long-tried license fearless, knows his master's anger nought."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Never tires the fire of burning, never wearies Death of slaying,
+    Nor the sea of drinking rivers, nor the bright-eyed of betraying."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "From false friends that breed thee strife,
+          From a house with serpents rife,
+          Saucy slaves and brawling wife--
+          Get thee forth, to save thy life."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Teeth grown loose, and wicked-hearted ministers, and poison trees,
+    Pluck them by the roots together; 'tis the thing that giveth ease."
+
+    "Long-tried friends are friends to cleave to--never leave thou these
+       i' the lurch:
+    What man shuns the fire as sinful for that once it burned a church?"
+
+    "Raise an evil soul to honour, and his evil bents remain;
+    Bind a cur's tail ne'er so straightly, yet it curleth up again."
+
+    "How, in sooth, should Trust and Honour change the evil nature's root?
+    Though one watered them with nectar, poison-trees bear deadly fruit."
+
+    "Safe within the husk of silence guard the seed of counsel so
+    That it break not--being broken, then the seedling will not grow."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Even as one who grasps a serpent, drowning in the bitter sea,
+    Death to hold and death to loosen--such is life's perplexity."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Woman's love rewards the worthless--kings of knaves exalters be;
+    Wealth attends the selfish niggard, and the cloud rains on the sea."
+
+    "Many a knave wins fair opinions standing in fair company,
+    As the sooty soorma pleases, lighted by a brilliant eye."
+
+    "Where the azure lotus blossoms, there the alligators hide;
+    In the sandal-tree are serpents. Pain and pleasure live allied."
+
+    "Rich the sandal--yet no part is but a vile thing habits there;
+    Snake and wasp haunt root and blossom; on the boughs sit ape and bear."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "As a bracelet of crystal, once broke, is not mended
+    So the favour of princes, once altered, is ended."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Wrath of kings, and rage of lightning--both be very full of dread;
+    But one falls on one man only--one strikes many victims dead."
+
+    "All men scorn the soulless coward who his manhood doth forget:
+    On a lifeless heap of ashes fearlessly the foot is set."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Simple milk, when serpents drink it, straightway into venom turns;
+    And a fool who heareth counsel all the wisdom of it spurns."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "A modest manner fits a maid,
+            And Patience is a man's adorning;
+          But brides may kiss, nor do amiss,
+            And men may draw, at scathe and scorning."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Serving narrow-minded masters dwarfs high natures to their size:
+    Seen before a convex mirror, elephants do show as mice."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Elephants destroy by touching, snakes with point of tooth beguile;
+    Kings by favour kill, and traitors murder with a fatal smile."
+
+    "Of the wife the lord is jewel, though no gems upon her beam;
+    Lacking him, she lacks adornment, howsoe'er her jewels gleam!"
+
+    "Hairs three-lakhs, and half-a-lakh hairs, on a man so many grow--
+    And so many years to Swarga shall the true wife surely go!"
+
+    "When the faithful wife, embracing tenderly her husband dead,
+    Mounts the blazing pyre beside him, as it were a bridal-bed;
+    Though his sins were twenty thousand, twenty thousand times o'er-told,
+    She shall bring his soul to splendour, for her love so large and bold."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Counsel unto six ears spoken, unto all is notified
+    When a King holds consultation, let it be with one beside."
+
+    "Sick men are for skilful leeches--prodigals for poisoning--
+    Fools for teachers--and the man who keeps a secret, for a King."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "With gift, craft, promise, cause thy foe to yield;
+    When these have failed thee, challenge him afield."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "The subtle wash of waves do smoothly pass,
+          But lay the tree as lowly as the grass."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Ten true bowmen on a rampart fifty's onset may sustain;
+    Fortalices keep a country more than armies in the plain."
+
+    "Build it strong, and build it spacious, with an entry and retreat;
+    Store it well with wood and water, fill its garners full with wheat."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Gems will no man's life sustain;
+          Best of gold is golden grain."
+
+    "Hard it is to conquer nature: if a dog were made a King,
+    'Mid the coronation trumpets he would gnaw his sandal-string."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "'Tis no Council where no Sage is--'tis no Sage that fears not Law;
+    'Tis no Law which Truth confirms not--'tis no Truth which Fear can
+        awe."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Though base be the Herald, nor hinder nor let,
+            For the mouth of a king is he;
+          The sword may be whet, and the battle set,
+            But the word of his message goes free."
+
+    "Better few and chosen fighters than of shaven-crowns a host,
+    For in headlong flight confounded, with the base the brave are lost."
+
+    "Kind is kin, howe'er a stranger--kin unkind is stranger shown;
+    Sores hurt, though the body breeds them--drugs relieve, though
+        desert-grown."
+
+    "Betel-nut is bitter, hot, sweet, spicy, binding, alkaline--
+    A demulcent--an astringent--foe to evils intestine;
+    Giving to the breath a fragrance--to the lips a crimson red;
+    A detergent, and a kindler of Love's flame that lieth dead.
+    Praise the Gods for the good betel!--these be thirteen virtues given,
+    Hard to meet in one thing blended, even in their happy heaven."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "He is brave whose tongue is silent of the trophies of his sword;
+    He is great whose quiet bearing marks his greatness well assured."
+
+    "When the Priest, the Leech, the Vizier of a King his flatterers be,
+    Very soon the King will part with health, and wealth and piety."
+
+    "Merciless, or money-loving, deaf to counsel, false of faith,
+    Thoughtless, spiritless, or careless, changing course with every
+        breath,
+    Or the man who scorns his rival--if a prince should choose a foe,
+    Ripe for meeting and defeating, certes he would choose him so."
+
+    "By the valorous and unskilful great achievements are not wrought;
+    Courage, led by careful Prudence, unto highest ends is brought."
+
+    "Grief kills gladness, winter summer, midnight-gloom the light of day,
+    Kindnesses ingratitude, and pleasant friends drive pain away;
+    Each ends each, but none of other surer conquerors can be
+    Than Impolicy of Fortune--of Misfortune Policy."
+
+    "Wisdom answers all who ask her, but a fool she cannot aid;
+    Blind men in the faithful mirror see not their reflection made."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Where the Gods are, or thy Guru--in the face of Pain and Age,
+    Cattle, Brahmans, Kings, and Children--reverently curb thy rage."
+
+    "Oh, my Prince! on eight occasions prodigality is none--
+    In the solemn sacrificing, at the wedding of a son,
+    When the glittering treasure given makes the proud invader bleed,
+    Or its lustre bringeth comfort to the people in their need,
+    Or when kinsmen are to succour, or a worthy work to end,
+    Or to do a loved one honour, or to welcome back a friend."
+
+    "Truth, munificence, and valour, are the virtues of a King;
+    Royalty, devoid of either, sinks to a rejected thing."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Hold thy vantage!--alligators on the land make none afraid;
+    And the lion's but a jackal who hath left his forest-shade."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The people are the lotus-leaves, their monarch is the sun--
+    When he doth sink beneath the waves they vanish every one.
+    When he doth rise they rise again with bud and blossom rife,
+    To bask awhile in his warm smile, who is their lord and life."
+
+    "All the cows bring forth are cattle--only now and then is born
+    An authentic lord of pastures, with his shoulder-scratching horn."
+
+    "When the soldier in the battle lays his life down for his king,
+    Unto Swarga's perfect glory such a deed his soul shall bring."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "'Tis the fool who, meeting trouble, straightway Destiny reviles,
+    Knowing not his own misdoing brought his own mischance the whiles."
+
+    "'Time-not-come' and 'Quick-at-Peril,' these two fishes 'scaped the
+        net;
+    'What-will-be-will-be,' he perished, by the fishermen beset."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Sex, that tires of being true,
+          Base and new is brave to you!
+          Like the jungle-cows ye range,
+          Changing food for sake of change."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "That which will not be will not be, and what is to be will be:
+    Why not drink this easy physic, antidote of misery?"
+
+    "Whoso trusts, for service rendered, or fair words, an enemy,
+    Wakes from folly like one falling in his slumber from a tree."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Fellow be with kindly foemen, rather than with friends unkind;
+    Friend and foeman are distinguished not by title but by mind."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Whoso setting duty highest, speaks at need unwelcome things,
+    Disregarding fear and favour, such an one may succour kings."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Brahmans for their lore have honour; Kshattriyas for their bravery;
+    Vaisyas for their hard-earned treasure; Sudras for humility."
+
+    "Seven foemen of all foemen, very hard to vanquish be:
+    The Truth-teller, the Just-dweller, and the man from passion free.
+
+    "Subtle, self-sustained, and counting frequent well-won victories,
+    And the man of many kinsmen--keep the peace with such as these."
+
+    "For the man with many kinsmen answers by them all attacks;
+    As the bambu, in the bambus safely sheltered, scorns the axe."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Whoso hath the gift of giving wisely, equitably, well;
+    Whoso, learning all men's secrets, unto none his own will tell:
+    Whoso, ever cold and courtly, utters nothing that offends,
+    Such an one may rule his fellows unto Earth's extremest ends."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Cheating them that truly trust you, 'tis a clumsy villany!
+    Any knave may slay the child who climbs and slumbers on his knee."
+
+    "Hunger hears not, cares not, spares not; no boon of the starving beg;
+    When the snake is pinched with craving, verily she eats her egg."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          "Of the Tree of State the root
+          Kings are--feed what brings the fruit."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Courtesy may cover malice; on their _heads_ the woodmen bring,
+    Meaning all the while to burn them, logs and faggots--oh, my King!
+    And the strong and subtle river, rippling at the cedar's foot,
+    While it seems to lave and kiss it, undermines the hanging root."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Weep not! Life the hired nurse is, holding us a little space;
+    Death, the mother who doth take us back into our proper place."
+
+    "Gone, with all their gauds and glories: gone, like peasants, are the
+        Kings,
+    Whereunto this earth was witness, whereof all her record rings."
+
+    "For the body, daily wasting, is not seen to waste away,
+    Until wasted; as in water set a jar of unbaked clay."
+
+    "And day after day man goeth near and nearer to his fate,
+    As step after step the victim thither where its slayers wait."
+
+          "Like as a plank of drift-wood
+             Tossed on the watery main,
+           Another plank encountered,
+             Meets,--touches,--parts again;
+           So tossed, and drifting ever,
+             On life's unresting sea,
+           Men meet, and greet, and sever,
+             Parting eternally."
+
+    "Halt, traveller! rest i' the shade: then up and leave it!
+    Stay, Soul! take fill of love; nor losing, grieve it!"
+
+          "Each beloved object born
+           Sets within the heart a thorn,
+           Bleeding, when they be uptorn."
+
+    "If thine own house, this rotting frame, doth wither,
+    Thinking another's lasting--goest thou thither?"
+
+          "Meeting makes a parting sure,
+           Life is nothing but death's door."
+
+    "As the downward-running rivers never turn and never stay,
+    So the days and nights stream deathward, bearing human lives away."
+
+    "Bethinking him of darkness grim, and death's unshunned pain,
+    A man strong-souled relaxes hold, like leather soaked in rain."
+
+          "From the day, the hour, the minute.
+             Each life quickens in the womb;
+           Thence its march, no falter in it,
+             Goes straight forward to the tomb."
+
+    "An 'twere not so, would sorrow cease with years?
+    Wisdom sees right what want of knowledge fears."
+
+    "Seek not the wild, sad heart! thy passions haunt it;
+    Play hermit in thy house with heart undaunted;
+    A governed heart, thinking no thought but good,
+    Makes crowded houses holy solitude."
+
+    "Away with those that preach to us the washing off of sin--
+    Thine own self is the stream for thee to make ablutions in:
+    In self-restraint it rises pure--flows clear in tide of truth,
+    By widening banks of wisdom, in waves of peace and truth."
+
+    "Bathe there, thou son of Pandu! with reverence and rite,
+    For never yet was water wet could wash the spirit white."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Thunder for nothing, like December's cloud,
+    Passes unmarked: strike hard, but speak not loud."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Minds deceived by evil natures, from the good their faith withhold;
+    When hot conjee once has burned them, children blow upon the cold."
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Indian Poetry, by Edwin Arnold
+
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