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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: 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> </p> +<h5>CONTAINING</h5> + +<h4>"<i>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</i></h4> +<p> </p> +<h3>BY</h3> +<p> </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 SOCIETÉ DE GEOGRAPHIE, MARSEILLES, ETC. ETC.<br /> +FORMERLY PRINCIPAL OF THE DECCAN COLLEGE, POONA<br /> +AND FELLOW OF THE UNIVERSITY OF BOMBAY</h4> + +<p> </p> +<h4>EIGHTH IMPRESSION</h4> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>LONDON</h3> +<h3>KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & 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">—</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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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">—</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 Tamâla 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,—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">Mâlava</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!—who with a threefold stride<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cheated King Bali—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—yet the King of Day and Night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Merciful-hearted! when thou earnest as Boodh—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Albeit 'twas written in the Scriptures so—<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—<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">Gurjjarî</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Nihsâra</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—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,—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,—<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—<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—Dread Lord of Heaven!—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She left that stamp of love—<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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Krishna with earthly love's false fire consuming—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And some one of her maidens 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">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 Pâtal-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 Mâdhvi pours incense through the grove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And silken Mogras lull the sense with essences of love,—<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—<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—as if warm lips touched sealed eyes and waked them—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—ah! so sweetly—<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—far wandered—<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—<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">Râmagirî</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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rubies to mate his laughing lips, and diamonds like his, eyes;—<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 champâk 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—afire with shy desire, veiled by their lashes black—<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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Body and bosom panting with the pulse of youthful blood—<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—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 Râs-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—eye, ear, sense, soul o'ercome—<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—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—<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:—</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—as if the sunshine drew<br /></span> +<span class="i8">All its being to the blue—<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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">When the mango blooms in spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And "Koohoo," "Koohoo," they sing—<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 Gîta 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—<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—<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">Gurjjarî</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!—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—<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—cannot choose but love thee ever,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My best Beloved—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—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—<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">Mâlavagauda</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Ekatâlî</span>.)</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Go to him,—win him hither,—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—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—<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—Radha—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—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—Love's large cup at happy overflow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet ever to be filled—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;—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—<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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Vision I saw in my dancing—<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,—I have seen her,—my angel—<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 Gîta 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,—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,—so Krishna in his heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Throned Radha; and—all treasonous follies chained—<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,—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">Gurjjarî</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—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—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—condemned—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—because I did forget—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—as the moon of silver<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Sits upon the solemn ocean—<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—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So firm and fine—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;—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—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—prays Jayadev—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 Gîta 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—<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;—<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">Karnâta</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Ekatâlî</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—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">Deshâga</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Ekatâlî</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—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—her, thy life, thy gentle fate—<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—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;—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—</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 Gîta 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">Deshivarâdî</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—that only!—<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">Gurjjarî</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Ekatâlî</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—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—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Jayadev, whose heart is given<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Unto Hari, Lord in Heaven—<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—<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—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,—see thee coming slow,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">A vision first, but then—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">By glade and glen—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lovely, loving soul, true to its home;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">His Queen—his Crown—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>—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">In the garb of Krishna's grace—<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 Gîta 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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That maiden—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">Gondakirî</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—glad, warm.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To be—"but wherefore tarrieth he?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"What can stay or delay him?—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—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—angel albeit—her rich lips breathe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sighs, if sighs were ever so sweet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And—if spirits can tremble—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—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 champâk 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>—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Full of grace and gentle favour—<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—though long—to Love's abode.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">(<i>Here ends that Sarga of the Gîta 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 Vrindávana 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">Mâlava</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Yati</span>.)</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis time!—he comes not!—will he come?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can he leave me thus to pine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Yami hê 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 hê 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 hê 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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Yami hê kam sharanam!</i>—<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—foolish mock!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When the great love shone confessed;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Yami hê 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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Necklets, jewels, what are ye?<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Yami hê kam sharanam!</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Yami hê kam sharanam!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sky is still, the forest sleeps;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Krishna forgets—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>—<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—<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)—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—<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—<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—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Passionately heaved—<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—as clouds do<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O'er the moon—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—light, low—<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:—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah, my Joy!—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Jayadeva prayeth it—<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—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Gurjjarî</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Ekatâlî</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—false, faint—<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—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—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—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That almost led him—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wholly forsworn and lost—let the grief dwell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the sin doth,—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i6"><i>Gentle hearts who listen!—too.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then in this other strain she wailed his loss—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">(<i>What follows is to the Music</i> <span class="smcap">Deshavarâdî</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—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As long as clouds can be—<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—<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—oh! a little—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?—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,—Radha who forgave!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Or, bitter River,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yamûn! 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 Gîta 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!—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">Bhairavî</span> <i>and the Mode</i> <span class="smcap">Yati</span>)</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Krishna!—then thou hast found me!—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?—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—so—<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,—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?—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!—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—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,—and smiled to hear,—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 Gîta 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—<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—<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">Gurjjarî</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>Mâ kooroo mânini mânamayè</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>Mâ kooroo mânini mânamayè</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>Mâ kooroo mânini mânamayè</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>Mâ kooroo mânini mânamayè</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>Mâ kooroo mânini mânamayè</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>Mâ kooroo mânini mânamayè</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—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—<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;—<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 Gîta 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">Deshîyavarâdî</span> <i>and the Mode</i> +<span class="smcap">Ashtatâlî</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—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—poor fool! to make it glitter soon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet hear me on—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;—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—Surpassing One!—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—grown full-orbed at sight of thee—<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—the girdle mine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy brow like smooth Bandhûka-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—my tongue is foolish still:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know where I am come—I know I live—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I know that thou art Radha—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that I dare, with courage too much<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a heart afraid,—so bold it is grown—<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—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 Gîta 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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the quiet falling twilight—<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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No glory of their beauty rich—<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—ever,—ever—his!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Mine</i>! "—hark! we are near enough for hearing—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"<i>Soon she will come—she will smile—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darker than dark Tamâla-leaves—<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—on before thee—<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!—that lovest lovers—<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!—her eyes thick-painted<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With soorma of the gloom—<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—abashed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At her delight, of her deep joy afraid—<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">Varâdi</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—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—<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 Gîta 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>salajjâ lajjâpi</i>) of the +line—</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Upon whose brow shame is ashamed to sit"<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +—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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Multiplied in heavenly places—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Multiply on earth—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In this his Hymn of Love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which lauds Govinda ever,—<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:—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—<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—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—I spit, to name that man!—<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,—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,—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,—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—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—like lotus-buds to see—<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;—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—<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!—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?—O Nautch-girl, sing again!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ah, Soorj!"—so followed answer—"here thine own Neila stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faithful in life and death alike,—look up, and take my hands:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Speak low, lest the guard hear us;—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!"—she cried—"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."—"What seek'st thou?"—"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 champâk, 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—and lower—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—Shureef's eyes waxed dim.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From his finger Shureef loosed an Ormuz pearl—<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—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—<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—wildly—try,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then they stiffen feeble;—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,—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—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—<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—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—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—as royal in his heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As any crowned champion of the Cross—<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—<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—<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—they<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Checking the jangling bits, and chiding down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The unfinished laugh to listen—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—he shall ride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bring you into lodgment—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—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—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—the flower of Pavia—<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—'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;—we, alas!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are Cyprus merchants making trade to France—<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—Allah or God—<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—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—these furbelows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are silk I spun—my lord wears ever such—<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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A precious gift, Madonna, past my thanks;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And—but thou shalt not hear a 'no' from me—<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—this but bankrupts us."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay, sir,—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—startling up the ears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of those three Christian cattle they bestrode—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That never yet was princelier-natured man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor gentler lady;—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red-hot with riveting the helmets up,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whetting axes for the heathen heads—<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;—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—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—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——" "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——" "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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The great steel glove—and through the helmet bars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Took her last kiss;—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—<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:—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—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—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—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,—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lebanon-bred, and mewed as princes lodge—<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—<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—signors in serge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And chapmen crowned, who knows?—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,—"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—the like not won, once lost—<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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Lo! I am loath to lose thee—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 swinkèd ringers down the stairs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came blinking into sunlight—all his keys<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jingling their little peal about his belt—<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—'twas a tongue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Italian true, but in a Muslim mouth—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Why are your belfries busy—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,—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!—why not to-night?—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!—so soon!—<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—oh, fair! oh, false!—<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!—not false—<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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Outdone by merrier laughter.—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever a gentle and a courteous heart—<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—never loosed before—<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.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then she, with sad smile, set her lips to drink,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And—something in the Cyprus touching them,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glanced—gazed—the ring!—her ring!—Jove! how she eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wistful eyes of Torel!—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!—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lady's dagger—small, and bright, and fine—<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—they pressed me hard! my days of grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ended to-night—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—<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—<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:—<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>.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Caliph drew a mighty breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just then the reader read a word—<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>,"—<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—if he heed—<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—<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—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 Bhûts<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!—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 Nâg! 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 Nâg! thou comest!—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 Súrat 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:—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>Akwâb, abareek</i>"—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—feasted—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-maknûn</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>—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—the Hûris. 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—what makes all fault forgiven—<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!—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—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 Pûl;<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—<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"—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wah! ten months had rusted his chain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ride this Sheitan's liver cold"—<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,—<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:—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hark! what horse-hoof echoes without?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Rise! and welcome Runjeet Dehu—<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—<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—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Long or ever the night began—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spake he, "Take your horse once more,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He carries well—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—<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—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wah! my Rajah Runjeet Dehu!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Chunda Kour and his Jummoo home—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wah! wah! futteh!—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—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<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—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 +<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:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The reading of this Mahábhárata 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 +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." </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:—</p> + +<p>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<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 Draupadí, whose <i>Swayamvara</i>, 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,<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 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."</p> + +<p>The Pandava king, having subdued all enemies, now performs the +<i>Rajasuya</i>, 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<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:—</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 Râj, excepting only the +lands which had been granted to the Brahmans." </p></div> + +<p>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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +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."</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 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.</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 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.<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—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 <i>Bhagavad-Gîta</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 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.</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 "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 <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,—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—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.</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 Vyása 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 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<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 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—</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,"—and the "Book of +the Entry into Heaven;" being the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Parvas of +the noble but, as yet, almost unknown Mahábhárata.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_MAHAPRASTHANIKA_PARVA_OF_THE_MAHABHARATA" id="THE_MAHAPRASTHANIKA_PARVA_OF_THE_MAHABHARATA"></a>THE MAHAPRASTHÁNIKA PARVA OF <br /> +THE MAHÁBHÁRATA.</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 Vyása, 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!—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—ere he left his realm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To seek high ending—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,—<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—that it should be well<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For him and his—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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Best of Bhârat's line!—he bowed him low<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before his Guru's feet,—at Kripa's feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sage all honoured,—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—with farewells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tenderly took of lieges and of lords—<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—O Lord of men!—so did<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arjuna, Bhíma, and the twin-born pair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nakula with Sahadev, and she—in grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The peerless—Draupadí. Lastly these six,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou son of Bhârata! 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 Draupadí—that lovely prize<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the great gaming, Draupadí the Bright—<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,—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!'—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">Ulùpi, leapt in Ganges, losing them;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Chitranâgad 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 Draupadí,<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, Bhíma 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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Best of Bhârat's offspring!—Draupadí,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That gem of women, paced; with soft, dark face,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beautiful, wonderful!—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 Udayachâla's ridge.—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—broad across their path—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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O warlike Bhíma,—O Arjuna, wise,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O brothers twin-born from a womb divine,—<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—<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—O Best!—<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—far off<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the eastern sky—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,—lo! Draupadí reeled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With faltering heart and feet; and Bhíma 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,—<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 Draupadí lay dead—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 Bhíma 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?—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—Kunti's strong son—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Bhíma, 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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His loved twin-brother—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,—<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">Bhíma 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,—Nakula has fallen!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But Yudhishthira, holding fixed his eyes,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That changeless, faithful, all-wise king,—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. Bhíma, 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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The yielding of that soul unconquerable,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fearless, divine, from Sákra's self derived,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span><span class="i0">Arjuna's,—Bhíma 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—our brother—that a single day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should see him utterly consume, alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All those his enemies,—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 Bhíma 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,—nay! not for Bhíma's sake,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But walking with his face set for the Mount:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the hound followed him,—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">Sákra shone forth,—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,—she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose perfect virtue Paradise must crown,—<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—these will attain—<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,—<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,—<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 Draupadí,<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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Draupadí, Bhíma?'<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,—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 Sákra, 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;—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!—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—tender and just—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not Bhíma's nor Arjuna's, true to both,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Madrî as to Kuntî, 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!—Bhârata'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,—with bright retinue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Maruts, Saints, Aswin-Kumãras, Nats,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spirits and Angels,—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,—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,—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,—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,—<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,—<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 Draupadí.<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 Purandará, 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 Bhíma and my brothers are, and she,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Draupadí, 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 MAHÁBHARATA;<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 Vyâsa pay the reverence due,—<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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou know'st all, whom wise Vyâsa taught—<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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great Yudhishthira and the Pandu lords—<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 Sádhyas,—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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not Draupadí, nor Bhíma, nor the rest,—<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 Draupadí's the deepest wrong, for he—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He who sits there—haled her before the court,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seizing that sweet and virtuous lady—he!—<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 Draupadí, 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,—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,—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">Sátyaki, 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 Viráta! no glad face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Dhrisktaketu! no Shikandina,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prince of Panchála, 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,—<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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Albeit Sákra'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 Saryasáchi's hand, unknown of me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Bhíma! ah, my Bhíma! 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 Draupadí! 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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vultures and kites and crows,—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,—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 Kutashála Mali,—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 Bhárat!) 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!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, saintly Lord!—Ah, Thou that hast attained<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Place with the Blessed, Pandu's offspring!—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, Bhárata'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,—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,—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 Bhíma 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">'Draupadí cries to thee!' Thereat broke forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The monarch's spirit,—knowing so the sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of each familiar voice,—'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">Bhíma, Arjuna, or the glorious twins,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or she, the slender-waisted, sweetest, best,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My princess,—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, if I perish—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 Sákra 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,—god Sákra 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. Sákra 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 Bhárata,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span><span class="i0">While that celestial company came down—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pure as the white stars sweeping through the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brighter than their brilliance—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—awful wood—<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,—<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,—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:—<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 Bhíma came a little space t' account,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Draupadí, Krishna,—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 Bhárata!<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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That mightiest archer, master in all wars,—<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,—<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 Mándháta crowned, and Bhagirath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Daushyanti, Bhárata, 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 Sákra thus had said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo! Dharma spake,—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,—then thou stood'st fast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Next, on thy brethren's death and Draupadí'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—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,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bhíma 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">Draupadí. Come, thou best-belovèd Son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blessed of all thy line! Bathe in this stream,—<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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The princes of the Pandavas, his kin—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lotus-eyed and lovliest Draupadí,<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 MAHÁBHÁRATA,</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 Vyása, 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,—untrod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quiet,—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,—fierce and loud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Outcries of victory—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watering their horses at a stream—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—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—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To princely life and silken couches used—<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 Aswatthâman. 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—all fearless; nor, O Prince!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had Aswatthâman 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 Bhârata! 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;—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"—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?—"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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Súrah the Seventeenth, intituled "Night"—<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:—"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-Fâtihah</i> while 'tis scarce yet day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>Praise be to Allah—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—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 Mesnevî;<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. Àli (whom I bless!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The son of Abu Talib—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!)—uprose betimes one morn, to pace—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As he was wont—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-Fâtihah</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,"—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">Àli—the Caliph of proud days to be—<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 Àli—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;—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 Àli, 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>Fâtihah</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 'lalamîna</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—alone of those within the shrine—<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>Fâtihah</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">Àli 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 Àli, 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:—and our Lord<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Read <i>Fâtihah</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—to whom beside so well</i>?—<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 Hœmony,<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>Hitopadeśa</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>Mahábhárata</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>Hitopadeśa</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 Nushirván, 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>Hitopadeśa</i>, under its own or other names +(as the <i>Anvári 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 HITOPADEŚA.</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—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—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—<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—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—Fate and Will together run:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two wheels bear life's chariot onward—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—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 Kûnti—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!—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Simple gifts—are given freely in the house where good men dwell;—<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—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—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">He who suffers, being strong—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">He whose harmlessness men know—<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—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stands before the king to succour, follows to the pile to sigh—<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—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—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—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—suddenly,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Knaves are shent—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—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—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—<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—title to respect and fame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, and wealth is held for wisdom—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—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!—'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—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—<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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto such comes Lakshmi smiling—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—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—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—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!—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—<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—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—little gains make largest store."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">"Men their cunning schemes may spin—<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—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Swing of golden tassels,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Wave of silken fan—<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—<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—is it like a faithful herd?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the work's done, grudging wages—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—after much entreaty—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—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—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—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—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—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—<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—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—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—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—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—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—both be very full of dread;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But one falls on one man only—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—<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—prodigals for poisoning—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fools for teachers—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—'tis no Sage that fears not Law;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis no Law which Truth confirms not—'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—kin unkind is stranger shown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sores hurt, though the body breeds them—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—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A demulcent—an astringent—foe to evils intestine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giving to the breath a fragrance—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!—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—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—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 Gúrú—in the face of Pain and Age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cattle, Brahmans, Kings, and Children—reverently curb thy rage."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh, my Prince! on eight occasions prodigality is none—<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!—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—<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—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—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—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—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,—touches,—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—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 unshunnèd 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—<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—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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INDIAN POETRY *** + +***** This file should be named 25965-h.htm or 25965-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/9/6/25965/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Thierry Alberto, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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