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diff --git a/25965.txt b/25965.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..accad73 --- /dev/null +++ b/25965.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6133 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Indian Poetry, by Edwin Arnold + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Indian Poetry + Containing "The Indian Song of Songs," from the Sanskrit + of the Gita Govinda of Jayadeva, Two books from "The Iliad + Of India" (Mahabharata), "Proverbial Wisdom" from the + Shlokas of the Hitopadesa, and other Oriental Poems. + +Author: Edwin Arnold + +Release Date: July 4, 2008 [EBook #25965] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INDIAN POETRY *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Thierry Alberto, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + INDIAN POETRY + + CONTAINING + + "_THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS," FROM THE SANSKRIT + OF THE GITA GOVINDA OF JAYADEVA + TWO BOOKS FROM "THE ILIAD OF INDIA" (MAHABHARATA) + "PROVERBIAL WISDOM" FROM THE SHLOKAS OF THE + HITOPADESA, AND OTHER ORIENTAL POEMS_ + + + BY + + SIR EDWIN ARNOLD, M.A., K.C.I.E., C.S.I. + + _Author of "The Light of Asia"_ + + OFFICER OF THE WHITE ELEPHANT OF SIAM + THIRD CLASS OF THE IMPERIAL ORDER OF THE MEDJIDIE + FELLOW OF THE ROYAL ASIATIC AND ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETIES + HONORARY MEMBER OF THE SOCIETE DE GEOGRAPHIE, MARSEILLES, ETC. ETC. + FORMERLY PRINCIPAL OF THE DECCAN COLLEGE, POONA + AND FELLOW OF THE UNIVERSITY OF BOMBAY + + + + EIGHTH IMPRESSION + + + LONDON + + KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO. L^TD + + DRYDEN HOUSE, GERRARD STREET, W. + + 1904 + + * * * * * + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + PAGE + +THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS-- + +Introduction 1 + +Hymn to Vishnu 3 + +Sarga the First--The Sports of Krishna 9 + +Sarga the Second--The Penitence of Krishna 22 + +Sarga the Third--Krishna troubled 31 + +Sarga the Fourth--Krishna cheered 37 + +Sarga the Fifth--The Longings of Krishna 44 + +Sarga the Sixth--Krishna made bolder 54 + +Sarga the Seventh--Krishna supposed false 59 + +Sarga the Eighth--The Rebuking of Krishna 75 + +Sarga the Ninth--The End of Krishna's Trial 79 + +Sarga the Tenth--Krishna in Paradise 83 + +Sarga the Eleventh--The Union of Radha and Krishna 88 + + +MISCELLANEOUS ORIENTAL POEMS-- + +The Rajpoot Wife 101 + +King Saladin 113 + +The Caliph's Draught 132 + +Hindoo Funeral Song 137 + +Song of the Serpent Charmers 138 + +Song of the Flour-Mill 140 + +Taza ba Taza 142 + +The Mussulman Paradise 146 + +Dedication of a Poem from the Sanskrit 150 + +The Rajah's Ride 151 + + +TWO BOOKS FROM THE "ILIAD OF INDIA" 159 + +The Great Journey 172 + +The Entry into Heaven 192 + +THE NIGHT OF SLAUGHTER 210 + +THE MORNING PRAYER 216 + + +PROVERBIAL WISDOM FROM THE SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA 221 + + * * * * * + + + + +THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS. + +_INTRODUCTION._ + +OM! + +REVERENCE TO GANESHA! + + + "The sky is clouded; and the wood resembles + The sky, thick-arched with black Tamala boughs; + O Radha, Radha! take this Soul, that trembles + In life's deep midnight, to Thy golden house." + So Nanda spoke,--and, led by Radha's spirit, + The feet of Krishna found the road aright; + Wherefore, in bliss which all high hearts inherit, + Together taste they Love's divine delight. + + _He who wrote these things for thee, + Of the Son of Wassoodee, + Was the poet Jayadeva; + Him Saraswati gave ever + Fancies fair his mind to throng, + Like pictures palace-walls along; + Ever to his notes of love + Lakshmi's mystic dancers move. + If thy spirit seeks to brood + On Hari glorious, Hari good; + If it feeds on solemn numbers. + Dim as dreams and soft as slumbers, + Lend thine ear to Jayadev, + Lord of all the spells that save. + Umapatidhara's strain + Glows like roses after rain; + Sharan's stream-like song is grand, + If its tide ye understand; + Bard more wise beneath the sun + Is not found than Govardhun; + Dhoyi holds the listener still + With his shlokes of subtle skill; + But for sweet words suited well + Jayadeva doth excel._ + + + + +(_What follows is to the Music_ MALAVA _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.) + +HYMN TO VISHNU + + + O thou that held'st the blessed Veda dry + When all things else beneath the floods were hurled; + Strong Fish-God! Ark of Men! _Jai!_ Hari, _jai!_ + Hail, Keshav, hail! thou Master of the world! + + The round world rested on thy spacious nape; + Upon thy neck, like a mere mole, it stood: + O thou that took'st for us the Tortoise-shape, + Hail, Keshav, hail! Ruler of wave and wood! + + The world upon thy curving tusk sate sure, + Like the Moon's dark disc in her crescent pale; + O thou who didst for us assume the Boar, + Immortal Conqueror! hail, Keshav, hail! + + When thou thy Giant-Foe didst seize and rend, + Fierce, fearful, long, and sharp were fang and nail; + Thou who the Lion and the Man didst blend, + Lord of the Universe! hail, Narsingh, hail! + + Wonderful Dwarf!--who with a threefold stride + Cheated King Bali--where thy footsteps fall + Men's sins, O Wamuna! are set aside: + O Keshav, hail! thou Help and Hope of all! + + The sins of this sad earth thou didst assoil, + The anguish of its creatures thou didst heal; + Freed are we from all terrors by thy toil: + Hail, Purshuram, hail! Lord of the biting steel! + + To thee the fell Ten-Headed yielded life, + Thou in dread battle laid'st the monster low! + Ah, Rama! dear to Gods and men that strife; + We praise thee, Master of the matchless bow! + + With clouds for garments glorious thou dost fare, + Veiling thy dazzling majesty and might, + As when Yamuna saw thee with the share, + A peasant--yet the King of Day and Night. + + Merciful-hearted! when thou earnest as Boodh-- + Albeit 'twas written in the Scriptures so-- + Thou bad'st our altars be no more imbrued + With blood of victims: Keshav! bending low-- + + We praise thee, Wielder of the sweeping sword, + Brilliant as curving comets in the gloom, + Whose edge shall smite the fierce barbarian horde; + Hail to thee, Keshav! hail, and hear, and come, + + And fill this song of Jayadev with thee, + And make it wise to teach, strong to redeem, + And sweet to living souls. Thou Mystery! + Thou Light of Life! Thou Dawn beyond the dream! + + Fish! that didst outswim the flood; + Tortoise! whereon earth hath stood; + Boar! who with thy tush held'st high + The world, that mortals might not die; + Lion! who hast giants torn; + Dwarf! who laugh'dst a king to scorn; + Sole Subduer of the Dreaded! + Slayer of the many-headed! + Mighty Ploughman! Teacher tender! + Of thine own the sure Defender! + Under all thy ten disguises + Endless praise to thee arises. + +(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARI _and the Mode_ NIHSARA.) + + Endless praise arises, + O thou God that liest + Rapt, on Kumla's breast, + Happiest, holiest, highest! + Planets are thy jewels, + Stars thy forehead-gems, + Set like sapphires gleaming + In kingliest anadems; + Even the great gold Sun-God, + Blazing through the sky, + Serves thee but for crest-stone, + _Jai, jai!_ Hari, _jai!_ + As that Lord of day + After night brings morrow, + Thou dost charm away + Life's long dream of sorrow. + As on Mansa's water + Brood the swans at rest, + So thy laws sit stately + On a holy breast. + O, Drinker of the poison! + Ah, high Delight of earth! + What light is to the lotus-buds, + What singing is to mirth, + Art thou--art thou that slayedst + Madhou and Narak grim; + That ridest on the King of Birds, + Making all glories dim. + With eyes like open lotus-flowers, + Bright in the morning rain, + Freeing by one swift piteous glance + The spirit from Life's pain: + Of all the three Worlds Treasure! + Of sin the Putter-by! + O'er the Ten-Headed Victor! + _Jai_ Hari! Hari! _jai!_ + Thou Shaker of the Mountain! + Thou Shadow of the Storm! + Thou Cloud that unto Lakshmi's face + Comes welcome, white, and warm! + O thou,--who to great Lakshmi + Art like the silvery beam + Which moon-sick chakors feed upon + By Jumna's silent stream,-- + To thee this hymn ascendeth, + That Jayadev doth sing, + Of worship, love, and mystery + High Lord and Heavenly King! + And unto whoso hears it + Do thou a blessing bring-- + Whose neck is gilt with yellow dust + From lilies that did cling + Beneath the breasts of Lakshmi, + A girdle soft and sweet, + When in divine embracing + The lips of Gods did meet; + And the beating heart above + Of thee--Dread Lord of Heaven!-- + She left that stamp of love-- + By such deep sign be given + Prays Jayadev, the glory + And the secret and the spells + Which close-hid in this story + Unto wise ears he tells. + + +END OF INTRODUCTION. + + + + +_SARGA THE FIRST._ + +SAMODADAMODARO. + +THE SPORTS OF KRISHNA. + + + Beautiful Radha, jasmine-bosomed Radha, + All in the Spring-time waited by the wood + For Krishna fair, Krishna the all-forgetful,-- + Krishna with earthly love's false fire consuming-- + And some one of her maidens sang this song:-- + +(_What follows is to the Music_ VASANTA _and the Mode_ YATI.) + + I know where Krishna tarries in these early days of Spring, + When every wind from warm Malay brings fragrance on its wing; + Brings fragrance stolen far away from thickets of the clove, + In jungles where the bees hum and the Koil flutes her love; + He dances with the dancers of a merry morrice one, + All in the budding Spring-time, for 'tis sad to be alone. + + I know how Krishna passes these hours of blue and gold + When parted lovers sigh to meet and greet and closely hold + Hand fast in hand; and every branch upon the Vakul-tree + Droops downward with a hundred blooms, in every bloom a bee; + He is dancing with the dancers to a laughter-moving tone, + In the soft awakening Spring-time, when 'tis hard to live alone. + + Where Kroona-flowers, that open at a lover's lightest tread, + Break, and, for shame at what they hear, from white blush modest red; + And all the spears on all the boughs of all the Ketuk-glades + Seem ready darts to pierce the hearts of wandering youths and maids; + Tis there thy Krishna dances till the merry drum is done, + All in the sunny Spring-time, when who can live alone? + + Where the breaking forth of blossom on the yellow Keshra-sprays + Dazzles like Kama's sceptre, whom all the world obeys; + And Patal-buds fill drowsy bees from pink delicious bowls, + As Kama's nectared goblet steeps in languor human souls; + There he dances with the dancers, and of Radha thinketh none, + All in the warm new Spring-tide, when none will live alone. + + Where the breath of waving Madhvi pours incense through the grove, + And silken Mogras lull the sense with essences of love,-- + The silken-soft pale Mogra, whose perfume fine and faint + Can melt the coldness of a maid, the sternness of a saint-- + There dances with those dancers thine other self, thine Own, + All in the languorous Spring-time, when none will live alone. + + Where--as if warm lips touched sealed eyes and waked them--all the + bloom + Opens upon the mangoes to feel the sunshine come; + And Atimuktas wind their arms of softest green about, + Clasping the stems, while calm and clear great Jumna spreadeth out; + There dances and there laughs thy Love, with damsels many an one, + In the rosy days of Spring-time, for he will not live alone. + + _Mark this song of Jayadev! + Deep as pearl in ocean-wave + Lurketh in its lines a wonder + Which the wise alone will ponder: + Though it seemeth of the earth. + Heavenly is the music's birth; + Telling darkly of delights + In the wood, of wasted nights, + Of witless days, and fruitless love, + And false pleasures of the grove, + And rash passions of the prime, + And those dances of Spring-time; + Time, which seems so subtle-sweet, + Time, which pipes to dancing-feet, + Ah! so softly--ah! so sweetly-- + That among those wood-maids featly + Krishna cannot choose but dance, + Letting pass life's greater chance._ + + Yet the winds that sigh so + As they stir the rose, + Wake a sigh from Krishna + Wistfuller than those; + All their faint breaths swinging + The creepers to and fro + Pass like rustling arrows + Shot from Kama's bow: + Thus among the dancers + What those zephyrs bring + Strikes to Krishna's spirit + Like a darted sting. + + And all as if--far wandered-- + The traveller should hear + The bird of home, the Koil, + With nest-notes rich and clear; + And there should come one moment + A blessed fleeting dream + Of the bees among the mangoes + Beside his native stream; + So flash those sudden yearnings, + That sense of a dearer thing, + The love and lack of Radha + Upon his soul in Spring. + + Then she, the maid of Radha, spake again; + And pointing far away between the leaves + Guided her lovely Mistress where to look, + And note how Krishna wantoned in the wood + Now with this one, now that; his heart, her prize, + Panting with foolish passions, and his eyes + Beaming with too much love for those fair girls-- + Fair, but not so as Radha; and she sang: + +(_What follows is to the Music_ RAMAGIRI _and the Mode_ YATI.) + + See, Lady! how thy Krishna passes these idle hours + Decked forth in fold of woven gold, and crowned with forest-flowers; + And scented with the sandal, and gay with gems of price-- + Rubies to mate his laughing lips, and diamonds like his, eyes;-- + In the company of damsels,[1] who dance and sing and play, + Lies Krishna, laughing, toying, dreaming his Spring away. + +[Footnote 1: It will be observed that the "Gopis" here personify the +five senses. Lassen says, "_Manifestum est puellis istis nil aliud +significar quam res sensiles_."] + + One, with star-blossomed champak wreathed, wooes him to rest his head + On the dark pillow of her breast so tenderly outspread; + And o'er his brow with, roses blown she fans a fragrance rare, + That falls on the enchanted sense like rain in thirsty air, + While the company of damsels wave many an odorous spray, + And Krishna, laughing, toying, sighs the soft Spring away. + + Another, gazing in his face, sits wistfully apart, + Searching it with those looks of love that leap from heart to heart; + Her eyes--afire with shy desire, veiled by their lashes black-- + Speak so that Krishna cannot choose but send the message back, + In the company of damsels whose bright eyes in a ring + Shine round him with soft meanings in the merry light of Spring. + + The third one of that dazzling band of dwellers in the wood-- + Body and bosom panting with the pulse of youthful blood-- + Leans over him, as in his ear a lightsome thing to speak, + And then with leaf-soft lip imprints a kiss below his cheek; + A kiss that thrills, and Krishna turns at the silken touch + To give it back--ah, Radha! forgetting thee too much. + + And one with arch smile beckons him away from Jumna's banks, + Where the tall bamboos bristle like spears in battle-ranks, + And plucks his cloth to make him come into the mango-shade, + Where the fruit is ripe and golden, and the milk and cakes are laid: + Oh! golden-red the mangoes, and glad the feasts of Spring, + And fair the flowers to lie upon, and sweet the dancers sing. + + Sweetest of all that Temptress who dances for him now + With subtle feet which part and meet in the Ras-measure slow, + To the chime of silver bangles and the beat of rose-leaf hands, + And pipe and lute and cymbal played by the woodland bands; + So that wholly passion-laden--eye, ear, sense, soul o'ercome-- + Krishna is theirs in the forest; his heart forgets its home. + + _Krishna, made for heavenly things, + 'Mid those woodland singers sings; + With those dancers dances featly, + Gives back soft embraces sweetly; + Smiles on that one, toys with this, + Glance for glance and kiss for kiss; + Meets the merry damsels fairly, + Plays the round of folly rarely, + Lapped in milk-warm spring-time weather, + He and those brown girls together._ + + _And this shadowed earthly love + In the twilight of the grove, + Dance and song and soft caresses, + Meeting looks and tangled tresses, + Jayadev the same hath writ, + That ye might have gain of it, + Sagely its deep sense conceiving + And its inner light believing; + How that Love--the mighty Master, + Lord of all the stars that cluster + In the sky, swiftest and slowest, + Lord of highest, Lord of lowest-- + Manifests himself to mortals, + Winning them towards the portals + Of his secret House, the gates + Of that bright Paradise which waits + The wise in love. Ah, human creatures! + Even your phantasies are teachers. + Mighty Love makes sweet in seeming + Even Krishna's woodland dreaming; + Mighty Love sways all alike + From self to selflessness. Oh! strike + From your eyes the veil, and see + What Love willeth Him to be + Who in error, but in grace, + Sitteth with that lotus-face, + And those eyes whose rays of heaven + Unto phantom-eyes are given;_ + _Holding feasts of foolish mirth + With these Visions of the earth; + Learning love, and love imparting; + Yet with sense of loss upstarting:--_ + + _For the cloud that veils the fountains + Underneath the Sandal mountains, + How--as if the sunshine drew + All its being to the blue-- + It takes flight, and seeks to rise + High into the purer skies, + High into the snow and frost, + On the shining summits lost! + Ah! and how the Koil's strain + Smites the traveller with pain,-- + When the mango blooms in spring, + And "Koohoo," "Koohoo," they sing-- + Pain of pleasures not yet won, + Pain of journeys not yet done, + Pain of toiling without gaining, + Pain, 'mid gladness, of still paining._ + + But may He guide us all to glory high + Who laughed when Radha glided, hidden, by, + And all among those damsels free and bold + Touched Krishna with a soft mouth, kind and cold; + And like the others, leaning on his breast, + Unlike the others, left there Love's unrest; + And like the others, joining in his song, + Unlike the others, made him silent long. + +(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_ +SAMODADAMODARO.) + + + + +_SARGA THE SECOND._ + +KLESHAKESHAVO. + +THE PENITENCE OF KRISHNA. + + + Thus lingered Krishna in the deep, green wood, + And gave himself, too prodigal, to those; + But Radha, heart-sick at his falling-off, + Seeing her heavenly beauty slighted so, + Withdrew; and, in a bower of Paradise-- + Where nectarous blossoms wove a shrine of shade, + Haunted by birds and bees of unknown skies-- + She sate deep-sorrowful, and sang this strain, + +(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARI _and the Mode_ YATI.) + + Ah, my Beloved! taken with those glances, + Ah, my Beloved! dancing those rash dances, + Ah, Minstrel! playing wrongful strains so well; + Ah, Krishna! Krishna with the honeyed lip! + Ah, Wanderer into foolish fellowship! + My Dancer, my Delight!--I love thee still. + + O Dancer! strip thy peacock-crown away, + Rise! thou whose forehead is the star of day, + With beauty for its silver halo set; + Come! thou whose greatness gleams beneath its shroud + Like Indra's rainbow shining through the cloud-- + Come, for I love thee, my Beloved! yet. + + Must love thee--cannot choose but love thee ever, + My best Beloved--set on this endeavor, + To win thy tender heart and earnest eye + From lips but sadly sweet, from restless bosoms, + To mine, O Krishna with the mouth of blossoms! + To mine, thou soul of Krishna! yet I sigh + + Half hopeless, thinking of myself forsaken, + And thee, dear Loiterer, in the wood o'ertaken + With passion for those bold and wanton ones, + Who knit thine arms as poison-plants gripe trees + With twining cords--their flowers the braveries + That flash in the green gloom, sparkling stars and stones. + + My Prince! my Lotus-faced! my woe! my love! + Whose broad brow, with the tilka-spot above, + Shames the bright moon at full with fleck of cloud; + Thou to mistake so little for so much! + Thou, Krishna, to be palm to palm with such! + O Soul made for my joys, pure, perfect, proud! + + Ah, my Beloved! in thy darkness dear; + Ah, Dancer! with the jewels in thine ear, + Swinging to music of a loveless love; + O my Beloved! in thy fall so high + That angels, sages, spirits of the sky + Linger about thee, watching in the grove. + + I will be patient still, and draw thee ever, + My one Beloved, sitting by the river + Under the thick kadambas with that throng: + Will there not come an end to earthly madness? + Shall I not, past the sorrow, have the gladness? + Must not the love-light shine for him ere long? + + _Shine, thou Light by Radha given, + Shine, thou splendid star of heaven! + Be a lamp to Krishna's feet, + Show to all hearts secrets sweet, + Of the wonder and the love + Jayadev hath writ above. + Be the quick Interpreter + Unto wisest ears of her + Who always sings to all, "I wait, + He loveth still who loveth late."_ + + For (sang on that high Lady in the shade) + My soul for tenderness, not blame, was made; + Mine eyes look through his evil to his good; + My heart coins pleas for him; my fervent thought + Prevents what he will say when these are naught, + And that which I am shall be understood. + + Then spake she to her maiden wistfully-- + +(_What follows is to the Music_ MALAVAGAUDA _and the Mode_ EKATALI.) + + Go to him,--win him hither,--whisper low + How he may find me if he searches well; + Say, if he will--joys past his hope to know + Await him here; go now to him, and tell + Where Radha is, and that henceforth she charms + His spirit to her arms. + + Yes, go! say, if he will, that he may come-- + May come, my love, my longing, my desire; + May come forgiven, shriven, to me his home, + And make his happy peace; nay, and aspire + To uplift Radha's veil, and learn at length + What love is in its strength. + + Lead him; say softly I shall chide his blindness, + And vex him with my angers; yet add this, + He shall not vainly sue for loving-kindness, + Nor miss to see me close, nor lose the bliss + That lives upon my lip, nor be denied + The rose-throne at my side. + + Say that I--Radha--in my bower languish + All widowed, till he find the way to me; + Say that mine eyes are dim, my breast all anguish, + Until with gentle murmured shame I see + His steps come near, his anxious pleading face + Bend for my pardoning grace. + + While I--what, did he deem light loves so tender, + To tarry for them when the vow was made + To yield him up my bosom's maiden splendour, + And fold him in my fragrance, and unbraid + My shining hair for him, and clasp him close + To the gold heart of his Rose? + + And sing him strains which only spirits know, + And make him captive with the silk-soft chain + Of twinned-wings brooding round him, and bestow + Kisses of Paradise, as pure as rain; + My gems, my moonlight-pearls, my girdle-gold, + Cymbaling music bold? + + While gained for ever, I shall dare to grow + Life to life with him, in the realms divine; + And--Love's large cup at happy overflow, + Yet ever to be filled--his eyes and mine + Will meet in that glad look, when Time's great gate + Closes and shuts out Fate. + + _Listen to the unsaid things + Of the song that Radha sings, + For the soul draws near to bliss, + As it comprehendeth this. + I am Jayadev, who write + All this subtle-rich delight + For your teaching. Ponder, then, + What it tells to Gods and men. + Err not, watching Krishna gay, + With those brown girls all at play; + Understand how Radha charms + Her wandering lover to her arms, + Waiting with divinest love + Till his dream ends in the grove._ + + For even now (she sang) I see him pause, + Heart-stricken with the waste of heart he makes + Amid them;--all the bows of their bent brows + Wound him no more: no more for all their sakes + Plays he one note upon his amorous lute, + But lets the strings lie mute. + + Pensive, as if his parted lips should say-- + + "My feet with the dances are weary, + The music has dropped from the song, + There is no more delight in the lute-strings, + Sweet Shadows! what thing has gone wrong? + The wings of the wind have left fanning + The palms of the glade; + They are dead, and the blossoms seem dying + In the place where we played. + + "We will play no more, beautiful Shadows! + A fancy came solemn and sad, + More sweet, with unspeakable longings, + Than the best of the pleasures we had: + I am not now the Krishna who kissed you; + That exquisite dream,-- + The Vision I saw in my dancing-- + Has spoiled what you seem. + + "Ah! delicate phantoms that cheated + With eyes that looked lasting and true, + I awake,--I have seen her,--my angel-- + Farewell to the wood and to you! + Oh, whisper of wonderful pity! + Oh, fair face that shone! + Though thou be a vision, Divinest! + This vision is done." + +(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_ +KLESHAKESHAVO.) + + + + +_SARGA THE THIRD._ + +MUGDHAMADHUSUDANO. + +KRISHNA TROUBLED. + + + Thereat,--as one who welcomes to her throne + A new-made Queen, and brings before it bound + Her enemies,--so Krishna in his heart + Throned Radha; and--all treasonous follies chained-- + He played no more with those first play-fellows: + But, searching through the shadows of the grove + For loveliest Radha,--when he found her not, + Faint with the quest, despairing, lonely, lorn, + And pierced with shame for wasted love and days, + He sate by Jumna, where the canes are thick, + And sang to the wood-echoes words like these: + +(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARI _and to the Mode_ YATI) + + Radha, Enchantress! Radha, queen of all! + Gone--lost, because she found me sinning here; + And I so stricken with my foolish fall, + I could not stay her out of shame and fear; + She will not hear; + In her disdain and grief vainly I call. + + And if she heard, what would she do? what say? + How could I make it good that I forgot? + What profit was it to me, night and day, + To live, love, dance, and dream, having her not? + Soul without spot! + I wronged thy patience, till it sighed away. + + Sadly I know the truth. Ah! even now + Remembering that one look beside the river, + Softer the vexed eyes seem, and the proud brow + Than lotus-leaves when the bees make them quiver. + My love for ever! + Too late is Krishna wise--too far art thou! + + Yet all day long in my deep heart I woo thee, + And all night long with thee my dreams are sweet; + Why, then, so vainly must my steps pursue thee? + Why can I never reach thee, to entreat, + Low at thy feet, + Dear vanished Splendour! till my tears subdue thee? + + Surpassing One! I knew thou didst not brook + Half-hearted worship, and a love that wavers; + Haho! there is the wisdom I mistook, + Therefore I seek with desperate endeavours; + That fault dissevers + Me from my heaven, astray--condemned--forsook! + + And yet I seem to feel, to know, thee near me; + Thy steps make music, measured music, near: + Radha! my Radha! will not sorrow clear me? + Shine once! speak one word pitiful and dear! + Wilt thou not hear? + Canst thou--because I did forget--forsake me? + + Forgive! the sin is sinned, is past, is over; + No thought I think shall do thee wrong again; + Turn thy dark eyes again upon thy lover + Bright Spirit! or I perish of this pain. + Loving again! + In dread of doom to love, but not recover. + + _So did Krishna sing and sigh + By the river-bank; and I, + Jayadev of Kinduvilva, + Resting--as the moon of silver + Sits upon the solemn ocean-- + On full faith, in deep devotion; + Tell it that ye may perceive + How the heart must fret and grieve; + How the soul doth tire of earth, + When the love from Heav'n hath birth._ + + For (sang he on) I am no foe of thine, + There is no black snake, Kama! in my hair; + Blue lotus-bloom, and not the poisoned brine, + Shadows my neck; what stains my bosom bare, + Thou God unfair! + Is sandal-dust, not ashes; nought of mine. + + Makes me like Shiva that thou, Lord of Love! + Shouldst strain thy string at me and fit thy dart; + This world is thine--let be one breast thereof + Which bleeds already, wounded to the heart + With lasting smart, + Shot from those brows that did my sin reprove. + + Thou gavest her those black brows for a bow + Arched like thine own, whose pointed arrows seem + Her glances, and the underlids that go-- + So firm and fine--its string? Ah, fleeting gleam! + Beautiful dream! + Small need of Kama's help hast thou, I trow, + + To smite me to the soul with love;--but set + Those arrows to their silken cord! enchain + My thoughts in that loose hair! let thy lips, wet + With dew of heaven as bimba-buds with rain, + Bloom precious pain + Of longing in my heart; and, keener yet, + + The heaving of thy lovely, angry bosom, + Pant to my spirit things unseen, unsaid; + But if thy touch, thy tones, if the dark blossom + Of thy dear face, thy jasmine-odours shed + From feet to head, + If these be all with me, canst thou be far--be fled? + + _So sang he, and I pray that whoso hears + The music of his burning hopes and fears, + That whoso sees this vision by the River + Of Krishna, Hari, (can we name him ever?) + And marks his ear-ring rubies swinging slow, + As he sits still, unheedful, bending low + To play this tune upon his lute, while all + Listen to catch the sadness musical; + And Krishna wotteth nought, but, with set face + Turned full toward Radha's, sings on in that place; + May all such souls--prays Jayadev--be wise + To lean the wisdom which hereunder lies._ + +(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_ +MUGDHAMADHUSUDANO.) + + + + +_SARGA THE FOURTH._ + +SNIGDHAMADHUSUDANO. + +KRISHNA CHEERED. + + + Then she whom Radha sent came to the canes-- + The canes beside the river where he lay + With listless limbs and spirit weak from love;-- + And she sang this to Krishna wistfully: + +(_What follows is to the Music_ KARNATA _and the Mode_ EKATALI.) + + Art thou sick for Radha? she is sad in turn, + Heaven foregoes its blessings, if it holds not thee, + All the cooling fragrance of sandal she doth spurn, + Moonlight makes her mournful with radiance silvery; + Even the southern breeze blown fresh from pearly seas, + Seems to her but tainted by a dolorous brine; + And for thy sake discontented, with a great love overladen, + Her soul comes here beside thee, and sitteth down with thine. + + Her soul comes here beside thee, and tenderly and true + It weaves a subtle mail of proof to ward off sin and pain; + A breastplate soft as lotus-leaf, with holy tears for dew, + To guard thee from the things that hurt; and then 'tis gone again + To strew a blissful place with the richest buds that grace + Kama's sweet world, a meeting-spot with rose and jasmine fair, + For the hour when, well-contented, with a love no longer troubled, + Thou shalt find the way to Radha, and finish sorrows there. + + But now her lovely face is shadowed by her fears; + Her glorious eyes are veiled and dim like moonlight in eclipse + By breaking rain-clouds, Krishna! yet she paints you in her tears + With tender thoughts--not Krishna, but brow and breast and lips + And form and mien a King, a great and godlike thing; + And then with bended head she asks grace from the Love Divine, + To keep thee discontented with the phantoms thou forswearest, + Till she may win her glory, and thou be raised to thine. + + Softly now she sayeth, + "Krishna, Krishna, come!" + Lovingly she prayeth, + "Fair moon, light him home." + Yet if Hari helps not, + Moonlight cannot aid; + Ah! the woeful Radha! + Ah! the forest shade! + + Ah! if Hari guide not, + Moonlight is as gloom; + Ah! if moonlight help not, + How shall Krishna come? + Sad for Krishna grieving + In the darkened grove; + Sad for Radha weaving + Dreams of fruitless love! + + _Strike soft strings to this soft measure, + If thine ear would catch its treasure; + Slowly dance to this deep song, + Let its meaning float along + With grave paces, since it tells + Of a love that sweetly dwells + In a tender distant glory, + Past all faults of mortal story._ + +(_What follows is to the Music_ DESHAGA _and the Mode_ EKATALI.) + + Krishna, till thou come unto her, faint she lies with love and fear; + Even the jewels of her necklet seem a load too great to bear. + + Krishna, till thou come unto her, all the sandal and the flowers + Vex her with their pure perfection though they grow in heavenly bowers. + + Krishna, till thou come unto her, fair albeit those bowers may be, + Passion burns her, and love's fire fevers her for lack of thee. + + Krishna, till thou come unto her, those divine lids, dark and tender, + Droop like lotus-leaves in rain-storms, dashed and heavy in their + splendour. + + Krishna, till thou come unto her, that rose-couch which she hath spread + Saddens with its empty place, its double pillow for one head. + + Krishna, till thou come unto her, from her palms she will not lift + The dark face hidden deep within them like the moon in cloudy rift. + + Krishna, till thou come unto her, angel though she be, thy Love + Sighs and suffers, waits and watches--joyless 'mid those joys above. + + Krishna, till them come unto her, with the comfort of thy kiss + Deeper than thy loss, O Krishna! must be loss of Radha's bliss. + + Krishna, while thou didst forget her--her, thy life, thy gentle fate-- + Wonderful her waiting was, her pity sweet, her patience great. + + Krishna, come! 'tis grief untold to grieve her--shame to let her sigh; + Come, for she is sick with love, and thou her only remedy. + + _So she sang, and Jayadeva + Prays for all, and prays for ever. + That Great Hari may bestow + Utmost bliss of loving so + On us all;--that one who wore + The herdsman's form, and heretofore, + To save the shepherd's threatened flock, + Up from the earth reared the huge rock-- + Bestow it with a gracious hand, + Albeit, amid the woodland band, + Clinging close in fond caresses + Krishna gave them ardent kisses, + Taking on his lips divine + Earthly stamp and woodland sign._ + +(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_ +SNIGDHAMADHUSUDANO). + + + + +_SARGA THE FIFTH._ + +SAKANDKSHAPUNDARIKAKSHO. + +THE LONGINGS OF KRISHNA. + + + "Say I am here! oh, if she pardons me, + Say where I am, and win her softly hither." + So Krishna to the maid; and willingly + She came again to Radha, and she sang: + +(_What follows is to the Music_ DESHIVARADI _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.) + + Low whispers the wind from Malaya + Overladen with love; + On the hills all the grass is burned yellow; + And the trees in the grove + Droop with tendrils that mock by their clinging + The thoughts of the parted; + And there lies, sore-sighing for thee, + Thy love, altered-hearted. + + To him the moon's icy-chill silver + Is a sun at midday; + The fever he burns with is deeper + Than starlight can stay: + Like one who falls stricken by arrows, + With the colour departed + From all but his red wounds, so lies + Thy love, bleeding-hearted. + + To the music the banded bees make him + He closeth his ear; + In the blossoms their small horns are blowing + The honey-song clear; + But as if every sting to his bosom + Its smart had imparted, + Low lies by the edge of the river, + Thy love, aching-hearted. + + By the edge of the river, far wandered + From his once beloved bowers, + And the haunts of his beautiful playmates, + And the beds strewn with flowers; + Now thy name is his playmate--that only!-- + And the hard rocks upstarted + From the sand make the couch where he lies, + Thy Krishna, sad-hearted. + + _Oh may Hari fill each soul, + As these gentle verses roll + Telling of the anguish borne + By kindred ones asunder torn! + Oh may Hari unto each + All the lore of loving teach, + All the pain and all the bliss; + Jayadeva prayeth this!_ + + Yea, Lady! in the self-same spot he waits + Where with thy kiss thou taught'st him utmost love, + And drew him, as none else draws, with thy look; + And all day long, and all night long, his cry + Is "Radha, Radha," like a spell said o'er: + + And in his heart there lives no wish nor hope + Save only this, to slake his spirit's thirst + For Radha's love with Radha's lips; and find + Peace on the immortal beauty of thy breast. + +(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARI _and the Mode_ EKATALI.) + + Mistress, sweet and bright and holy! + Meet him in that place; + Change his cheerless melancholy + Into joy and grace; + If thou hast forgiven, vex not; + If thou lovest, go, + Watching ever by the river, + Krishna listens low: + + Listens low, and on his reed there + Softly sounds thy name, + Making even mute things plead there + For his hope: 'tis shame + That, while winds are welcome to him, + If from thee they blow, + Mournful ever by the river + Krishna waits thee so! + + When a bird's wing stirs the roses, + When a leaf falls dead, + Twenty times he recomposes + The flower-seat he has spread: + Twenty times, with anxious glances + Seeking thee in vain, + Sighing ever by the river, + Krishna droops again. + + Loosen from thy foot the bangle, + Lest its golden bell, + With a tiny, tattling jangle, + Any false tale tell: + If thou fearest that the moonlight + Will thy glad face know, + Draw those dark braids lower, Lady! + But to Krishna go. + + Swift and still as lightning's splendour + Let thy beauty come, + Sudden, gracious, dazzling, tender, + To his arms--its home. + Swift as Indra's yellow lightning, + Shining through the night, + Glide to Krishna's lonely bosom, + Take him love and light. + + Grant, at last, love's utmost measure, + Giving, give the whole; + Keep back nothing of the treasure + Of thy priceless soul: + Hold with both hands out unto him + Thy chalice, let him drain + The nectar of its dearest draught, + Till not a wish remain. + + Only go--the stars are setting, + And thy Krishna grieves; + Doubt and anger quite forgetting, + Hasten through the leaves: + Wherefore didst thou lead him heav'nward + But for this thing's sake? + Comfort him with pity, Radha! + Or his heart must break. + + _But while Jayadeva writes + This rare tale of deep delights-- + Jayadev, whose heart is given + Unto Hari, Lord in Heaven-- + See that ye too, as ye read, + With a glad and humble heed, + Bend your brows before His face, + That ye may have bliss and grace._ + + And then the Maid, compassionate, sang on-- + + Lady, most sweet! + For thy coming feet + He listens in the wood, with love sore-tried; + Faintly sighing, + Like one a-dying, + He sends his thoughts afoot to meet his bride. + + Ah, silent one! + Sunk is the sun, + The darkness falls as deep as Krishna's sorrow; + The chakor's strain + Is not more vain + Than mine, and soon gray dawn will bring white morrow. + + And thine own bliss + Delays by this; + The utmost of thy heaven comes only so + When, with hearts beating + And passionate greeting, + Parting is over, and the parted grow. + + One--one for ever! + And the old endeavour + To be so blended is assuaged at last; + And the glad tears raining + Have nought remaining + Of doubt or 'plaining; and the dread has passed. + + Out of each face, + In the close embrace, + That by-and-by embracing will be over; + The ache that causes + Those mournful pauses + In bowers of earth between lover and lover: + + To be no more felt, + To fade, to melt + In the strong certainty of joys immortal; + In the glad meeting, + And quick sweet greeting + Of lips that close beyond Time's shadowy portal. + + And to thee is given, + Angel of Heaven! + This glory and this joy with Krishna. Go! + Let him attain, + For his long pain, + The prize it promised,--see thee coming slow, + + A vision first, but then-- + By glade and glen-- + A lovely, loving soul, true to its home; + His Queen--his Crown--his All, + Hast'ning at last to fall + Upon his breast, and live there. Radha, come! + + _Come! and come thou, Lord of all, + Unto whom the Three Worlds call; + Thou, that didst in angry might, + Kansa, like a comet, smite; + Thou, that in thy passion tender, + As incarnate spell and splendour, + Hung on Radha's glorious face-- + In the garb of Krishna's grace-- + As above the bloom the bee, + When the honeyed revelry + Is too subtle-sweet an one + Not to hang and dally on; + Thou that art the Three Worlds' glory, + Of life the light, of every story + The meaning and the mark, of love + The root and, flower, o' the sky above + The blue, of bliss the heart, of those, + The lovers, that which did impose + The gentle law, that each should be + The other's Heav'n and harmony._ + +(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_ +SAKANDKSILAPUNDARIKAKSHO.) + + + + +_SARGA THE SIXTH._ + +DHRISHTAVAIKUNTO. + +KRISHNA MADE BOLDER. + + + But seeing that, for all her loving will, + The flower-soft feet of Radha had not power + To leave their place and go, she sped again-- + That maiden--and to Krishna's eager ears + Told how it fared with his sweet mistress there. + +(_What follows is to the Music_ GONDAKIRI _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.) + + Krishna! 'tis thou must come, (she sang) + Ever she waits thee in heavenly bower; + The lotus seeks not the wandering bee, + The bee must find the flower. + + All the wood over her deep eyes roam, + Marvelling sore where tarries the bee, + Who leaves such lips of nectar unsought + As those that blossom for thee. + + Her steps would fail if she tried to come, + Would falter and fail, with yearning weak; + At the first of the road they would falter and pause, + And the way is strange to seek. + + Find her where she is sitting, then, + With lotus-blossom on ankle and arm + Wearing thine emblems, and musing of nought + But the meeting to be--glad, warm. + + To be--"but wherefore tarrieth he?" + "What can stay or delay him?--go! + See if the soul of Krishna comes," + Ten times she sayeth to me so; + + Ten times lost in a languorous swoon, + "Now he cometh--he cometh," she cries; + And a love-look lightens her eyes in the gloom, + And the darkness is sweet with her sighs. + + Till, watching in vain, she glideth again + Under the shade of the whispering leaves; + With a heart too full of its love at last + To heed how her bosom heaves. + + _Shall not these fair verses swell + The number of the wise who dwell + In the realm of Kama's bliss? + Jayadeva prayeth this, + Jayadev, the bard of Love, + Servant of the Gods above._ + + For all so strong in Heaven itself + Is Love, that Radha sits drooping there, + Her beautiful bosoms panting with thought, + And the braids drawn back from her ear. + + And--angel albeit--her rich lips breathe + Sighs, if sighs were ever so sweet; + And--if spirits can tremble--she trembles now + From forehead to jewelled feet. + + And her voice of music sinks to a sob, + And her eyes, like eyes of a mated roe, + Are tender with looks of yielded love, + With dreams dreamed long ago; + + Long--long ago, but soon to grow truth, + To end, and be waking and certain and true; + Of which dear surety murmur her lips, + As the lips of sleepers do: + + And, dreaming, she loosens her girdle-pearls, + And opens her arms to the empty air, + Then starts, if a leaf of the champak falls, + Sighing, "O leaf! Is he there?" + + Why dost thou linger in this dull spot, + Haunted by serpents and evil for thee? + Why not hasten to Nanda's House? + It is plain, if thine eyes could see. + + _May these words of high endeavour-- + Full of grace and gentle favour-- + Find out those whose hearts can feel + What the message did reveal, + Words that Radha's messenger + Unto Krishna took from her, + Slowly guiding him to come + Through the forest to his home, + Guiding him to find the road + Which led--though long--to Love's abode._ + +(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_ +DHRISHTAVAIKUNTO.) + + + + +_SARGA THE SEVENTH._ + +VIPRALABDHAVARNANE NAGARANARAYANO. + +KRISHNA SUPPOSED FALSE. + + + Meantime the moon, the rolling moon, clomb high, + And over all Vrindavana it shone; + The moon which on the front of gentle night + Gleams like the chundun-mark on beauty's brow; + The conscious moon which hath its silver face + Marred with the shame of lighting earthly loves: + + And while the round white lamp of earth rose higher, + And still he tarried, Radha, petulant, + Sang soft impatience and half-earnest fears: + +(_What follows is to the Music_ MALAVA _and the Mode_ YATI.) + + 'Tis time!--he comes not!--will he come? + Can he leave me thus to pine? + _Yami he kam sharanam!_ + Ah! what refuge then is mine? + + For his sake I sought the wood, + Threaded dark and devious ways; + _Yami he kam sharanam!_ + Can it be Krishna betrays? + + Let me die then, and forget + Anguish, patience, hope, and fear; + _Yami he kam sharanam!_ + Ah, why have I held him dear? + + Ah, this soft night torments me, + Thinking that his faithless arms-- + _Yami he kam sharanam!_-- + Clasp some shadow of my charms. + + Fatal shadow--foolish mock! + When the great love shone confessed;-- + _Yami he kam sharanam!_ + Krishna's lotus loads my breast; + + 'Tis too heavy, lacking him; + Like a broken flower I am-- + Necklets, jewels, what are ye? + _Yami he kam sharanam!_ + + _Yami he kam sharanam!_ + The sky is still, the forest sleeps; + Krishna forgets--he loves no more; + He fails in faith, and Radha weeps. + + _But the poet Jayadev-- + He who is great Hari's slave, + He who finds asylum sweet + Only at great Hari's feet; + He who for your comfort sings + All this to the Vina's strings-- + Prays that Radha's tender moan + In your hearts be thought upon, + And that all her holy grace + Live there like the loved one's face._ + + Yet, if I wrong him! (sang she)--can he fail? + Could any in the wood win back his kisses? + Could any softest lips of earth prevail + To hold him from my arms? any love-blisses + + Blind him once more to mine? O Soul, my prize! + Art thou not merely hindered at this hour? + Sore-wearied, wandering, lost? how otherwise + Shouldst thou not hasten to the bridal-bower? + + But seeing far away that Maiden come + Alone, with eyes cast down and lingering steps, + Again a little while she feared to hear + Of Krishna false; and her quick thoughts took shape + In a fine jealousy, with words like these-- + + Something then of earth has held him + From his home above, + Some one of those slight deceivers-- + Ah, my foolish love! + + Some new face, some winsome playmate, + With her hair untied, + And the blossoms tangled in it, + Woos him to her side. + + On the dark orbs of her bosom-- + Passionately heaved-- + Sink and rise the warm, white pearl-strings, + Oh, my love deceived! + + Fair? yes, yes! the rippled shadow + Of that midnight hair + Shows above her brow--as clouds do + O'er the moon--most fair: + + And she knows, with wilful paces, + How to make her zone + Gleam and please him; and her ear-rings + Tinkle love; and grown + + Coy as he grows fond, she meets him + With a modest show; + Shaming truth with truthful seeming, + While her laugh--light, low-- + + And her subtle mouth that murmurs. + And her silken cheek, + And her eyes, say she dissembles + Plain as speech could speak. + + Till at length, a fatal victress, + Of her triumph vain, + On his neck she lies and smiles there:-- + Ah, my Joy!--my Pain! + + _But may Radha's fond annoy, + And may Krishna's dawning joy, + Warm and waken love more fit-- + Jayadeva prayeth it-- + And the griefs and sins assuage + Of this blind and evil age._ + + O Moon! (she sang) that art so pure and pale, + Is Krishna wan like thee with lonely waiting? + O lamp of love! art thou the lover's friend, + And wilt not bring him, my long pain abating? + O fruitless moon! thou dost increase my pain + O faithless Krishna! I have striven in vain. + And then, lost in her fancies sad, she moaned-- + +(_What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARI _and the Mode_ EKATALI) + + In vain, in vain! + Earth will of earth! I mourn more than I blame; + If he had known, he would not sit and paint + The tilka on her smooth black brow, nor claim + Quick kisses from her yielded lips--false, faint-- + False, fragrant, fatal! Krishna's quest is o'er + By Jumna's shore! + + Vain--it was vain! + The temptress was too near, the heav'n too far; + I can but weep because he sits and ties + Garlands of fire-flowers for her loosened hair, + And in its silken shadow veils his eyes + And buries his fond face. Yet I forgave + By Jumna's wave! + + Vainly! all vain! + Make then the most of that whereto thou'rt given, + Feign her thy Paradise--thy Love of loves; + Say that her eyes are stars, her face the heaven, + Her bosoms the two worlds, with sandal-groves + Full-scented, and the kiss-marks--ah, thy dream + By Jumna's stream! + + It shall be vain! + And vain to string the emeralds on her arm, + And hang the milky pearls upon her neck, + Saying they are not jewels, but a swarm + Of crowded, glossy bees, come there to suck + The rosebuds of her breast, the sweetest flowers + Of Jumna's bowers. + + That shall be vain! + Nor wilt thou so believe thine own blind wooing, + Nor slake thy heart's thirst even with the cup + Which at the last she brims for thee, undoing + Her girdle of carved gold, and yielding up, + Love's uttermost: brief the poor gain and pride + By Jumna's tide + + Because still vain + Is love that feeds on shadow; vain, as thou dost, + To look so deep into the phantom eyes + For that which lives not there; and vain, as thou must, + To marvel why the painted pleasure flies, + When the fair, false wings seemed folded for ever + By Jumna's river. + + And vain! yes, vain! + For me too is it, having so much striven, + To see this slight snare take thee, and thy soul + Which should have climbed to mine, and shared my heaven, + Spent on a lower loveliness, whose whole + Passion of claim were but a parody + Of that kept here for thee. + + Ahaha! vain! + For on some isle of Jumna's silver stream + He gives all that they ask to those hard eyes, + While mine which are his angel's, mine which gleam + With light that might have led him to the skies-- + That almost led him--are eclipsed with tears + Wailing my fruitless prayers. + + But thou, good Friend, + Hang not thy head for shame, nor come so slowly, + As one whose message is too ill to tell; + If thou must say Krishna is forfeit wholly-- + Wholly forsworn and lost--let the grief dwell + Where the sin doth,--except in this sad heart, + Which cannot shun its part. + + _O great Hari! purge from wrong + The soul of him who writes this song; + Purge the souls of those that read + From every fault of thought and deed; + With thy blessed light assuage + The darkness of this evil age! + Jayadev the bard of love, + Servant of the Gods above, + Prays it for himself and you-- + Gentle hearts who listen!--too._ + + Then in this other strain she wailed his loss-- + +(_What follows is to the Music_ DESHAVARADI _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.) + + She, not Radha, wins the crown + Whose false lips seemed dearest; + What was distant gain to him + When sweet loss stood nearest? + Love her, therefore, lulled to loss + On her fatal bosom; + Love her with such love as she + Can give back in the blossom. + + Love her, O thou rash lost soul! + With thy thousand graces; + Coin rare thoughts into fair words + For her face of faces; + Praise it, fling away for it + Life's purpose in a sigh, + All for those lips like flower-leaves, + And lotus-dark deep eye. + + Nay, and thou shalt be happy too + Till the fond dream is over; + And she shall taste delight to hear + The wooing of her lover; + The breeze that brings the sandal up + From distant green Malay, + Shall seem all fragrance in the night, + All coolness in the day. + + The crescent moon shall seem to swim + Only that she may see + The glad eyes of my Krishna gleam, + And her soft glances he: + It shall be as a silver lamp + Set in the sky to show + The rose-leaf palms that cling and clasp, + And the breast that beats below. + + The thought of parting shall not lie + Cold on their throbbing lives, + The dread of ending shall not chill + The glow beginning gives; + She in her beauty dark shall look-- + As long as clouds can be-- + As gracious as the rain-time cloud + Kissing the shining sea. + + And he, amid his playmates old, + At least a little while, + Shall not breathe forth again the sigh + That spoils the song and smile; + Shall be left wholly to his choice, + Free for his pleasant sin, + With the golden-girdled damsels + Of the bowers I found him in. + + For me, his Angel, only + The sorrow and the smart, + The pale grief sitting on the brow, + The dead hope in the heart; + For me the loss of losing, + For me the ache and dearth; + My king crowned with the wood-flowers! + My fairest upon earth! + + _Hari, Lord and King of love! + From thy throne of light above + Stoop to help us, deign to take + Our spirits to thee for the sake + Of this song, which speaks the fears + Of all who weep with Radha's tears._ + + But love is strong to pardon, slow to part, + And still the Lady, in her fancies, sang-- + Wind of the Indian stream! + A little--oh! a little--breathe once more + The fragrance like his mouth's! blow from thy shore + One last word as he fades into a dream; + + Bodiless Lord of love! + Show him once more to me a minute's space, + My Krishna, with the love-look in his face, + And then I come to my own place above; + + I will depart and give + All back to Fate and her: I will submit + To thy stern will, and bow myself to it, + Enduring still, though desolate, to live: + + If it indeed be life, + Even so resigning, to sit patience-mad, + To feel the zephyrs burn, the sunlight sad, + The peace of holy heaven, a restless strife. + + Haho! what words are these? + How can I live and lose him? how not go + Whither love draws me for a soul loved so? + How yet endure such sorrow?--or how cease? + + Wind of the Indian wave! + If that thou canst, blow poison here, not nard; + God of the five shafts! shoot thy sharpest hard, + And kill me, Radha,--Radha who forgave! + + Or, bitter River, + Yamun! be Yama's sister! be Death's kin! + Swell thy wave up to me and gulf me in, + Cooling this cruel, burning pain for ever. + + _Ah! if only visions stir + Grief so passionate in her, + What divine grief will not take, + Spirits in heaven for the sake + Of those who miss love? Oh, be wise! + Mark this story of the skies; + Meditate Govinda ever, + Sitting by the sacred river, + The mystic stream, which o'er his feet + Glides slow, with murmurs low and sweet, + Till none can tell whether those be + Blue lotus-blooms, seen veiledly + Under the wave, or mirrored gems + Reflected from the diadems + Bound on the brows of mighty Gods, + Who lean from out their pure abodes, + And leave their bright felicities + To guide great Krishna to his sides._ + +(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_ +VIPRALABDHAVARNANE NAGARANARAYANO.) + + + + +_SARGA THE EIGHTH._ + +KHANDITAVARNANE VILAKSHALAKSHMIPATI. + +THE REBUKING OF KRISHNA. + + + For when the weary night had worn away + In these vain fears, and the clear morning broke, + Lo, Krishna! lo, the longed-for of her soul + Came too!--in the glad light he came, and bent + His knee, and clasped his hands; on his dumb lips + Fear, wonder, joy, passion, and reverence + Strove for the trembling words, and Radha knew + Peace won for him and her; yet none the less + A little time she eluded him, and sang: + +(_What follows is to the Music_ BHAIRAVI _and the Mode_ YATI) + + Krishna!--then thou hast found me!--and thine eyes + Heavy and sad and stained, as if with weeping! + Ah! is it not that those, which were thy prize, + So radiant seemed that all night thou wert keeping + Vigils of tender wooing?--have thy Love! + Here is no place for vows broken in making; + Thou Lotus-eyed! thou soul for whom I strove! + Go! ere I listen, my just mind forsaking. + + Krishna! my Krishna with the woodland-wreath! + Return, or I shall soften as I blame; + The while thy very lips are dark to the teeth + With dye that from her lids and lashes came, + Left on the mouth I touched. Fair traitor! go! + Say not they darkened, lacking food and sleep + Long waiting for my face; I turn it--so-- + Go! ere I half believe thee, pleading deep; + + But wilt thou plead, when, like a love-verse printed + On the smooth polish of an emerald, + I see the marks she stamped, the kisses dinted + Large-lettered, by her lips? thy speech withheld + Speaks all too plainly; go,--abide thy choice! + If thou dost stay, I shall more greatly grieve thee; + Not records of her victory?--peace, dear voice! + Hence with that godlike brow, lest I believe thee. + + For dar'st thou feign the saffron on thy bosom + Was not implanted in disloyal embrace? + Or that this many-coloured love-tree blossom + Shone not, but yesternight, above her face? + Comest thou here, so late, to be forgiven, + O thou, in whose eyes Truth was made to live? + O thou, so worthy else of grace and heaven? + O thou, so nearly won? Ere I forgive, + + Go, Krishna! go!--lest I should think, unwise, + Thy heart not false, as thy long lingering seems, + Lest, seeing myself so imaged in thine eyes, + I shame the name of Pity--turn to dreams + The sacred sound of vows; make Virtue grudge + Her praise to Mercy, calling thy sin slight; + Go therefore, dear offender! go! thy Judge + Had best not see thee to give sentence right. + + _But may he grant us peace at last and bliss + Who heard,--and smiled to hear,--delays like this, + Delays that dallied with a dream come true, + Fond wilful angers; for the maid laughed too + To see, as Radha ended, her hand take + His dark role for her veil, and[2] Krishna make + The word she spoke for parting kindliest sign + He should not go, but stay. O grace divine, + Be ours too! Jayadev, the Poet of love, + Prays it from Hari, lordliest above._ + +(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_ +KHANDITAVARNANE VILAKSHALAKSHMIPATI.) + +[Footnote 2: The text here is not closely followed.] + + + + +_SARGA THE NINTH._ + +KALAHANTARITAVARNANE MUGDHAMUKUNDO. + +THE END OF KRISHNA'S TRIAL. + + + Yet not quite did the doubts of Radha die, + Nor her sweet brows unbend; but she, the Maid-- + Knowing her heart so tender, her soft arms + Aching to take him in, her rich mouth sad + For the comfort of his kiss, and these fears false-- + Spake yet a little in fair words like these: + +_(What follows is to the Music_ GURJJARI _and the Mode_ YATI.) + + The lesson that thy faithful love has taught him + He has heard; + The wind of spring, obeying thee, hath brought him + At thy word; + What joy in all the three worlds was so precious + To thy mind? + _Ma kooroo manini manamaye_,[3] + Ah, be kind! + +[Footnote 3: My proud one! do not indulge in scorn.] + + No longer from his earnest eyes conceal + Thy delights; + Lift thy face, and let the jealous veil reveal + All his rights; + The glory of thy beauty was but given + For content; + _Ma kooroo manini manamaye_, + Oh, relent! + + Remember, being distant, how he bore thee + In his heart; + Look on him sadly turning from before thee + To depart; + Is he not the soul thou lovedst, sitting lonely + In the wood? + _Ma kooroo manini manamaye_, + 'Tis not good! + + He who grants thee high delight in bridal-bower + Pardons long; + What the gods do love may do at such an hour + Without wrong; + Why weepest thou? why keepest thou in anger + Thy lashes down? + _Ma kooroo manini manamaye_, + Do not frown! + + Lift thine eyes now, and look on him, bestowing, + Without speech; + Let him pluck at last the flower so sweetly growing + In his reach; + The fruit of lips, of loving tones, of glances + That forgive; + _Ma kooroo manini manamaye_, + Let him live! + + Let him speak with thee, and pray to thee, and prove thee + All his truth; + Let his silent loving lamentation move thee + Asking ruth; + How knowest thou? All, listen, dearest Lady, + He is there; + _Ma kooroo manini manamaye_, + Thou must hear! + + _O rare voice, which is a spell + Unto all on earth who dwell! + O rich voice, of rapturous love, + Making melody above! + Krishna's, Hari's--one in two, + Sound these mortal verses through! + Sound like that soft flute which made + Such a magic in the shade-- + Calling deer-eyed maidens nigh, + Waking wish and stirring sigh, + Thrilling blood and melting breasts, + Whispering love's divine unrests, + Winning blessings to descend, + Bringing earthly ills to end;-- + Me thou heard in this song now + Thou, the great Enchantment, thou!_ + +(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_ +KALAHANTARITAVARNANE MUGDHAMUKUNDO.) + + + + +_SARGA THE TENTH._ + +MANINIVARNANE CHATURACHATURBHUJO. + +KRISHNA IN PARADISE. + + + But she, abasing still her glorious eyes, + And still not yielding all her face to him, + Relented; till with softer upturned look + She smiled, while the Maid pleaded; so thereat + Came Krishna nearer, and his eager lips + Mixed sighs with words in this fond song he sang: + +(_What follows is to the Music_ DESHIYAVARADI _and the Mode_ +ASHTATALI.) + + O angel of my hope! O my heart's home! + My fear is lost in love, my love in fear; + This bids me trust my burning wish, and come, + That checks me with its memories, drawing near: + Lift up thy look, and let the thing it saith + End fear with grace, or darken love to death. + + Or only speak once more, for though thou slay me, + Thy heavenly mouth must move, and I shall hear + Dulcet delights of perfect music sway me + Again--again that voice so blest and dear; + Sweet Judge! the prisoner prayeth for his doom + That he may hear his fate divinely come. + + Speak once more! then thou canst not choose but show + Thy mouth's unparalleled and honeyed wonder + Where, like pearls hid in red-lipped shells, the row + Of pearly teeth thy rose-red lips lie under; + Ah me! I am that bird that woos the moon, + And pipes--poor fool! to make it glitter soon. + + Yet hear me on--because I cannot stay + The passion of my soul, because my gladness + Will pour forth from my heart;--since that far day + When through the mist of all my sin and sadness + Thou didst vouchsafe--Surpassing One!--to break, + All else I slighted for thy noblest sake. + + Thou, thou hast been my blood, my breath, my being; + The pearl to plunge for in the sea of life; + The sight to strain for, past the bounds of seeing; + The victory to win through longest strife; + My Queen! my crowned Mistress! my sphered bride! + Take this for truth, that what I say beside. + + Of bold love--grown full-orbed at sight of thee-- + May be forgiven with a quick remission; + For, thou divine fulfilment of all hope! + Thou all-undreamed completion of the vision! + I gaze upon thy beauty, and my fear + Passes as clouds do, when the moon shines clear. + + So if thou'rt angry still, this shall avail, + Look straight at me, and let thy bright glance wound me; + Fetter me! gyve me! lock me in the gaol + Of thy delicious arms; make fast around me + The silk-soft manacles of wrists and hands, + Then kill me! I shall never break those bands. + + The starlight jewels flashing on thy breast + Have not my right to hear thy beating heart; + The happy jasmine-buds that clasp thy waist + Are soft usurpers of my place and part; + If that fair girdle only there must shine, + Give me the girdle's life--the girdle mine! + + Thy brow like smooth Bandhuka-leaves; thy cheek + Which the dark-tinted Madhuk's velvet shows; + Thy long-lashed Lotus eyes, lustrous and meek; + Thy nose a Tila-bud; thy teeth like rows + Of Kunda-petals! he who pierceth hearts + Points with thy lovelinesses all five darts. + + But Radiant, Perfect, Sweet, Supreme, forgive! + My heart is wise--my tongue is foolish still: + I know where I am come--I know I live-- + I know that thou art Radha--that this will + Last and be heaven: that I have leave to rise + Up from thy feet, and look into thine eyes! + + And, nearer coming, I ask for grace + Now that the blest eyes turn to mine; + Faithful I stand in this sacred place + Since first I saw them shine: + Dearest glory that stills my voice, + Beauty unseen, unknown, unthought! + Splendour of love, in whose sweet light + Darkness is past and nought; + Ah, beyond words that sound on earth, + Golden bloom of the garden of heaven! + Radha, enchantress! Radha, the queen! + Be this trespass forgiven-- + In that I dare, with courage too much + And a heart afraid,--so bold it is grown-- + To hold thy hand with a bridegroom's touch, + And take thee for mine, mine own.[4] + + _So they met and so they ended + Pain and parting, being blended + Life with life--made one for ever + In high love; and Jayadeva + Hasteneth on to close the story + Of their bridal grace and glory._ + +(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_ +MANINIVARNANE CHATURACHATURBHUJO.) + +[Footnote 4: Much here also is necessarily paraphrased.] + + + + +_SARGA THE ELEVENTH._ + +RADHIKAMILANE SANANDADAMODARO. + +THE UNION OF RADHA AND KRISHNA. + + + Thus followed soft and lasting peace, and griefs + Died while she listened to his tender tongue, + Her eyes of antelope alight with love; + And while he led the way to the bride-bower + The maidens of her train adorned her fair + With golden marriage-cloths, and sang this song: + +(_What follows is to the Music_ VASANTA _and the Mode_ YATI.) + + Follow, happy Radha! follow,-- + In the quiet falling twilight-- + The steps of him who followed thee + So steadfastly and far; + Let us bring thee where the banjulas + Have spread a roof of crimson, + Lit up by many a marriage-lamp + Of planet, sun, and star: + For the hours of doubt are over, + And thy glad and faithful lover + Hath found the road by tears and prayers + To thy divinest side; + And thou wilt not now deny him + One delight of all thy beauty, + But yield up open-hearted + His pearl, his prize, his bride. + + Oh, follow! while we fill the air + With songs and softest music; + Lauding thy wedded loveliness, + Dear Mistress past compare! + For there is not any splendour + Of Apsarasas immortal-- + No glory of their beauty rich-- + But Radha has a share; + Oh, follow! while we sing the song + That fills the worlds with longing, + The music of the Lord of love + Who melts all hearts with bliss; + For now is born the gladness + That springs from mortal sadness, + And all soft thoughts and things and hopes + Were presages of this. + + Then, follow, happiest Lady! + Follow him thou lovest wholly; + The hour is come to follow now + The soul thy spells have led; + His are thy breasts like jasper-cups, + And his thine eyes like planets; + Thy fragrant hair, thy stately neck, + Thy queenly sumptuous head; + Thy soft small feet, thy perfect lips, + Thy teeth like jasmine petals, + Thy gleaming rounded shoulders, + And long caressing arms, + Being thine to give, are his; and his + The twin strings of thy girdle, + And his the priceless treasure + Of thine utter-sweetest charms. + + So follow! while the flowers break forth + In white and amber clusters, + At the breath of thy pure presence, + And the radiance on thy brow; + Oh, follow where the Asokas wave + Their sprays of gold and purple, + As if to beckon thee the way + That Krishna passed but now; + He is gone a little forward! + Though thy steps are faint for pleasure, + Let him hear the tattling ripple + Of the bangles round thy feet; + Moving slowly o'er the blossoms + On the path which he has shown thee, + That when he turns to listen + It may make his fond heart beat. + + And loose thy jewelled girdle + A little, that its rubies + May tinkle softest music too, + And whisper thou art near; + Though now, if in the forest + Thou should'st bend one blade of Kusha + With silken touch of passing foot, + His heart would know and hear; + Would hear the wood-buds saying, + "It is Radha's foot that passes;" + Would hear the wind sigh love-sick, + "It is Radha's fragrance, this;" + Would hear thine own heart beating + Within thy panting bosom, + And know thee coming, coming, + His--ever,--ever--his! + + "_Mine_! "--hark! we are near enough for hearing-- + "_Soon she will come--she will smile--she will say + Honey-sweet words of heavenly endearing; + O soul! listen; my Bride is on her way!_" + + Hear'st him not, my Radha? + Lo, night bendeth o'er thee-- + Darker than dark Tamala-leaves-- + To list thy marriage-song; + Dark as the touchstone that tries gold, + And see now--on before thee-- + Those lines of tender light that creep + The clouded sky along: + O night! that trieth gold of love, + This love is proven perfect! + O lines that streak the touchstone sky, + Plash forth true shining gold! + O rose-leaf feet, go boldly! + O night!--that lovest lovers-- + Thy softest robe of silence + About these bridals fold! + + See'st thou not, my Radha? + Lo, the night, thy bridesmaid, + Comes!--her eyes thick-painted + With soorma of the gloom-- + The night that binds the planet-worlds + For jewels on her forehead, + And for emblem and for garland + Loves the blue-black lotus-bloom; + The night that scents her breath so sweet + With cool and musky odours, + That joys to spread her veil of shade + Over the limbs of love; + + And when, with loving weary, + Yet dreaming love, they slumber, + Sets the far stars for silver lamps + To light them from above. + + So came she where he stood, awaiting her + At the bower's entry, like a god to see, + With marriage-gladness and the grace of heaven. + The great pearl set upon his glorious head + Shone like a moon among the leaves, and shone + Like stars the gems that kept her gold gown close: + But still a little while she paused--abashed + At her delight, of her deep joy afraid-- + And they that tended her sang once more this: + +(_What follows is to the Music_ VARADI _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.) + + Enter, thrice-happy! enter, thrice-desired! + And let the gates of Hari shut thee in + With the soul destined to thee from of old. + + Tremble not! lay thy lovely shame aside; + Lay it aside with thine unfastened zone, + And love him with the love that knows not fear, + + Because it fears not change; enter thou in, + Flower of all sweet and stainless womanhood! + For ever to grow bright, for ever new; + + Enter beneath the flowers, O flower-fair! + Beneath these tendrils, Loveliest! that entwine + And clasp, and wreathe and cling, with kissing stems; + + Enter, with tender-blowing airs of heaven, + Soft as love's breath and gentle as the tones + Of lover's whispers, when the lips come close: + + Enter the house of Love, O loveliest! + Enter the marriage-bower, most beautiful! + And take and give the joy that Hari grants, + + Thy heart has entered, let thy feet go too! + Lo, Krishna! lo, the one that thirsts for thee! + Give him the drink of amrit from thy lips. + + * * * * * + + Then she, no more delaying, entered straight; + Her step a little faltered, but her face + Shone with unutterable quick love; and--while, + + The music of her bangles passed the porch-- + Shame, which had lingered in her downcast eyes, + Departed shamed[5] ... and like the mighty deep, + Which sees the moon and rises, all his life + Uprose to drink her beams. + +(_Here ends that Sarga of the Gita Govinda entitled_ +RADHIKAMILANE SANANDADAMODARO.) + +[Footnote 5: This complete anticipation (_salajja lajjapi_) of the +line-- + + "Upon whose brow shame is ashamed to sit" + +--occurs at the close of the Sarga, part of which is here perforce +omitted, along with the whole of the last one.] + + * * * * * + + Hari keep you! He whose might, + On the King of Serpents seated, + Flashes forth in dazzling light + From the Great Snake's gems repeated: + Hari keep you! He whose graces, + Manifold in majesty,-- + Multiplied in heavenly places-- + Multiply on earth--to see + Better with a hundred eyes + Her bright charms who by him lies. + + _What skill may be in singing, + What worship sound in song, + What lore be taught in loving, + What right divined from wrong: + Such things hath Jayadeva-- + In this his Hymn of Love, + Which lauds Govinda ever,-- + Displayed; may all approve!_ + + +THE END OF THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS + + + + +_MISCELLANEOUS ORIENTAL POEMS._ + + + + +_THE RAJPOOT WIFE._ + + + Sing something, Jymul Rao! for the goats are gathered now, + And no more water is to bring; + The village-gates are set, and the night is gray as yet, + God hath given wondrous fancies to thee:--sing! + + Then Jymul's supple fingers, with a touch that doubts and lingers, + Sets athrill the saddest wire of all the six; + And the girls sit in a tangle, and hush the tinkling bangle, + While the boys pile the flame with store of sticks. + + And vain of village praise, but full of ancient days, + He begins with a smile and with a sigh-- + "Who knows the babul-tree by the bend of the Ravee?" + Quoth Gunesh, "I!" and twenty voices, "I!" + + "Well--listen! there below, in the shade of bloom and bough, + Is a musjid of carved and coloured stone; + And Abdool Shureef Khan--I spit, to name that man!-- + Lieth there, underneath, all alone. + + "He was Sultan Mahmoud's vassal, and wore an Amir's tassel + In his green hadj-turban, at Nungul. + Yet the head which went so proud, it is not in his shroud; + There are bones in that grave,--but not a skull! + + "And, deep drove in his breast, there moulders with the rest + A dagger, brighter once than Chundra's ray; + A Rajpoot lohar whet it, and a Rajpoot woman set it + Past the power of any hand to tear away. + + "'Twas the Ranee Neila true, the wife of Soorj Dehu, + Lord of the Rajpoots of Nourpoor; + You shall hear the mournful story, with its sorrow and its glory, + And curse Shureef Khan,--the soor!" + + * * * * * + + All in the wide Five-Waters was none like Soorj Dehu, + To foeman who so dreadful, to friend what heart so true? + + Like Indus, through the mountains came down the Muslim ranks, + And town-walls fell before them as flooded river-banks; + + But Soorj Dehu the Rajpoot owned neither town nor wall; + His house the camp, his roof-tree the sky that covers all; + + His seat of state the saddle; his robe a shirt of mail; + His court a thousand Rajpoots close at his stallion's tail. + + Not less was Soorj a Rajah because no crown he wore + Save the grim helm of iron with sword-marks dinted o'er; + + Because he grasped no sceptre save the sharp tulwar, made + Of steel that fell from heaven,--for 'twas Indra forged that blade! + And many a starless midnight the shout of "Soorj Dehu" + Broke up with spear and matchlock the Muslim's "Illahu." + + And many a day of battle upon the Muslim proud + Tell Soorj, as India's lightning falls from the silent cloud. + + Nor ever shot nor arrow, nor spear nor slinger's stone, + Could pierce the mail that Neila the Ranee buckled on: + + But traitor's subtle tongue-thrust through fence of steel can break; + And Soorj was taken sleeping, whom none had ta'en awake. + + Then at the noon, in durbar, swore fiercely Shureef Khan + That Soorj should die in torment, or live a Mussulman. + + But Soorj laughed lightly at him, and answered, "Work your will! + The last breath of my body shall curse your Prophet still." + + With words of insult shameful, and deeds of cruel kind, + They vexed that Rajpoot's body, but never moved his mind. + + And one is come who sayeth, "Ho! Rajpoots! Soorj is bound; + Your lord is caged and baited by Shureef Khan, the hound. + + "The Khan hath caught and chained him, like a beast, in iron cage, + And all the camp of Islam spends on him spite and rage; + + "All day the coward Muslims spend on him rage and spite; + If ye have thought to help him, 'twere good ye go to-night." + + Up sprang a hundred horsemen, flashed in each hand a sword; + In each heart burned the gladness of dying for their lord; + + Up rose each Rajpoot rider, and buckled on with speed + The bridle-chain and breast-cord, and the saddle of his steed. + + But unto none sad Neila gave word to mount and ride; + Only she called the brothers of Soorj unto her side, + + And said, "Take order straightway to seek this camp with me; + If love and craft can conquer, a thousand is as three. + + "If love be weak to save him, Soorj dies--and ye return, + For where a Rajpoot dieth, the Rajpoot widows burn." + + Thereat the Ranee Neila unbraided from her hair + The pearls as great as Kashmir grapes Soorj gave his wife to wear, + + And all across her bosoms--like lotus-buds to see-- + She wrapped the tinselled sari of a dancing Kunchenee; + + And fastened on her ankles the hundred silver bells, + To whose light laugh of music the Nautch-girl darts and dwells. + + And all in dress a Nautch-girl, but all in heart a queen, + She set her foot to stirrup with a sad and settled mien. + + Only one thing she carried no Kunchenee should bear, + The knife between her bosoms;--ho, Shureef! have a care! + + * * * * * + + Thereat, with running ditty of mingled pride and pity, + Jymul Rao makes the six wires sigh; + And the girls with tearful eyes note the music's fall and rise, + And the boys let the fire fade and die. + + * * * * * + + All day lay Soorj the Rajpoot in Shureef's iron cage, + All day the coward Muslims spent on him spite and rage. + + With bitter cruel torments, and deeds of shameful kind, + They racked and broke his body, but could not shake his mind. + + And only at the Azan, when all their worst was vain, + They left him, like dogs slinking from a lion in his pain. + + No meat nor drink they gave him through all that burning day, + And done to death, but scornful, at twilight-time he lay. + + So when the gem of Shiva uprose, the shining moon, + Soorj spake unto his spirit, "The end is coming soon." + + "I would the end might hasten, could Neila only know-- + What is that Nautch-girl singing with voice so known and low? + + "Singing beneath the cage-bars the song of love and fear + My Neila sang at parting!--what doth that Nautch-girl here? + + "Whence comes she by the music of Neila's tender strain, + She, in that shameless tinsel?--O Nautch-girl, sing again!" + + "Ah, Soorj!"--so followed answer--"here thine own Neila stands, + Faithful in life and death alike,--look up, and take my hands: + + "Speak low, lest the guard hear us;--to-night, if thou must die, + Shureef shall have no triumph, but bear thee company." + + So sang she like the Koil that dies beside its mate; + With eye as black and fearless, and love as hot and great. + + Then the Chief laid his pale lips upon the little palm, + And sank down with a smile of love, his face all glad and calm; + + And through the cage-bars Neila felt the brave heart stop fast, + "O Soorj!"--she cried--"I follow! have patience to the last." + + She turned and went. "Who passes?" challenged the Mussulman; + "A Nautch-girl, I."--"What seek'st thou?"--"The presence of the Khan;" + + "Ask if the high chief-captain be pleased to hear me sing;" + And Shureef, full of feasting, the Kunchenee bade bring. + + Then, all before the Muslims, aflame with lawless wine, + Entered the Ranee Neila, in grace and face divine; + + And all before the Muslims, wagging their goatish chins, + The Rajpoot Princess set her to the "bee-dance" that begins, + + "_If my love loved me, he should be a bee, + I the yellow champak, love the honey of me._" + + All the wreathed movements danced she of that dance; + Not a step she slighted, not a wanton glance; + + In her unveiled bosom chased th' intruding bee, + To her waist--and lower--she! a Rajpoot, she! + + Sang the melting music, swayed the languorous limb: + Shureef's drunken heart beat--Shureef's eyes waxed dim. + + From his finger Shureef loosed an Ormuz pearl-- + "By the Prophet," quoth he, "'tis a winsome girl!" + + "Take this ring; and 'prithee, come and have thy pay, + I would hear at leisure more of such a lay." + + Glared his eyes on her eyes, passing o'er the plain, + Glared at the tent-purdah--never glared again! + + Never opened after unto gaze or glance, + Eyes that saw a Rajpoot dance a shameful dance; + + For the kiss she gave him was his first and last-- + Kiss of dagger, driven to his heart, and past. + + At her feet he wallowed, choked with wicked blood; + In his breast the katar quivered where it stood. + + At the hilt his fingers vainly--wildly--try, + Then they stiffen feeble;--die! thou slayer, die! + + From his jewelled scabbard drew she Shureef's sword, + Cut a-twain the neck-bone of the Muslim lord. + + Underneath the starlight,--sooth, a sight of dread! + Like the Goddess Kali, comes she with the head, + + Comes to where her brothers guard their murdered chief; + All the camp is silent, but the night is brief. + + At his feet she flings it, flings her burden vile; + "Soorj! I keep my promise! Brothers, build the pile!" + + They have built it, set it, all as Rajpoots do + From the cage of iron taken Soorj Dehu; + + In the lap of Neila, seated on the pile, + Laid his head--she radiant, like a queen the while. + + Then the lamp is lighted, and the ghee is poured-- + "Soorj, we burn together: O my love, my lord!" + + In the flame and crackle dies her tender tongue, + Dies the Ranee, truest, all true wives among. + + At the dawn a clamour runs from tent to tent, + Like the wild geese cackling when the night is spent. + + "Shureef Khan lies headless! gone is Soorj Dehu! + And the wandering Nautch-girl, who has seen her, who?" + + This but know the sentries, at the "breath of morn" + Forth there fared two horsemen, by the first was borne. + + The urn of clay, the vessel that Rajpoots use to bring + The ashes of dead kinsmen to Gungas' holy spring. + + + + +_KING SALADIN_. + + + Long years ago--so tells Boccaccio + In such Italian gentleness of speech + As finds no echo in this northern air + To counterpart its music--long ago, + When Saladin was Soldan of the East, + The kings let cry a general crusade; + And to the trysting-plains of Lombardy + The idle lances of the North and West + Rode all that spring, as all the spring runs down + Into a lake, from all its hanging hills, + The clash and glitter of a hundred streams. + Whereof the rumour reached to Saladin; + And that swart king--as royal in his heart + As any crowned champion of the Cross-- + That he might fully, of his knowledge, learn + The purpose of the lords of Christendom, + And when their war and what their armament, + Took thought to cross the seas to Lombardy. + Wherefore, with wise and trustful Amirs twain, + All habited in garbs that merchants use, + With trader's band and gipsire on the breasts + That best loved mail and dagger, Saladin + Set forth upon his journey perilous. + In that day, lordly land was Lombardy! + A sea of country-plenty, islanded + With cities rich; nor richer one than thee, + Marble Milano! from whose gate at dawn-- + With ear that little recked the matin-bell, + But a keen eye to measure wall and foss-- + The Soldan rode; and all day long he rode + For Pavia; passing basilic, and shrine, + And gaze of vineyard-workers, wotting not + Yon trader was the Lord of Heathenesse. + All day he rode; yet at the wane of day + No gleam of gate, or ramp, or rising spire, + Nor Tessin's sparkle underneath the stars + Promised him Pavia; but he was 'ware + Of a gay company upon the way, + Ladies and lords, with horses, hawks, and hounds: + Cap-plumes and tresses fluttered by the wind + Of merry race for home. "Go!" said the king + To one that rode upon his better hand, + "And pray these gentles of their courtesy + How many leagues to Pavia, and the gates + What hour they close them?" Then the Saracen + Set spur, and being joined to him that seemed + First of the hunt, he told the message--they + Checking the jangling bits, and chiding down + The unfinished laugh to listen--but by this + Came up the king, his bonnet in his hand, + Theirs doffed to him: "Sir Trader," Torel said + (Messer Torello 'twas, of Istria), + "They shut the Pavian gate at even-song, + And even-song is sung." Then turning half, + Muttered, "Pardie, the man is worshipful, + A stranger too!" "Fair lord!" quoth Saladin, + "Please you to stead some weary travellers, + Saying where we may lodge, the town so far + And night so near" "Of my heart, willingly," + Made answer Torel, "I did think but now + To send my knave an errand--he shall ride + And bring you into lodgment--oh! no thanks, + Our Lady keep you!" then with whispered hest + He called their guide and sped them. Being gone. + Torello told his purpose, and the band, + With ready zeal and loosened bridle-chains, + Rode for his hunting-palace, where they set + A goodly banquet underneath the planes, + And hung the house with guest-lights, and anon + Welcomed the wondering strangers, thereto led + Unwitting, by a world of winding paths; + Messer Torello, at the inner gate, + Waiting to take them in--a goodly host, + Stamped current with God's image for a man + Chief among men, truthful, and just, and free. + Then he, "Well met again, fair sirs! Our knave + Hath found you shelter better than the worst: + Please you to leave your selles, and being bathed, + Grace our poor supper here." Then Saladin, + Whose sword had yielded ere his courtesy, + Answered, "Great thanks, Sir Knight, and this much blame, + You spoil us for our trade! two bonnets doffed, + And travellers' questions holding you afield, + For those you give us this." "Sir! not your meed, + Nor worthy of your breeding; but in sooth + That is not out of Pavia." Thereupon + He led them to fair chambers decked with all + Makes tired men glad; lights, and the marble bath, + And flasks that sparkled, liquid amethyst, + And grapes, not dry as yet from evening dew. + Thereafter at the supper-board they sat; + Nor lacked it, though its guest was reared a king, + Worthy provend in crafts of cookery, + Pastel, pasticcio--all set forth on gold; + And gracious talk and pleasant courtesies, + Spoken in stately Latin, cheated time + Till there was none but held the stranger-sir, + For all his chapman's dress of cramasie, + Goodlier than silks could make him. Presently + Talk rose upon the Holy Sepulchre: + "I go myself," said Torel, "with a score + Of better knights--the flower of Pavia-- + To try our steel against King Saladin's. + Sirs! ye have seen the countries of the Sun, + Know you the Soldan?" Answer gave the king, + "The Soldan we have seen--'twill push him hard + If, which I nothing doubt, you Pavian lords + Are valorous as gentle;--we, alas! + Are Cyprus merchants making trade to France-- + Dull sons of Peace." "By Mary!" Torel cried, + "But for thy word, I ne'er heard speech so fit + To lead the war, nor saw a hand that sat + Liker a soldier's in the sabre's place; + But sure I hold you sleepless!" Then himself + Playing the chamberlain, with torches borne, + Led them to restful beds, commending them + To sleep and God, Who hears--Allah or God-- + When good men do his creatures charities. + At dawn the cock, and neigh of saddled steeds, + Broke the king's dreams of battle--not their own, + But goodly jennets from Torello's stalls, + Caparisoned to bear them; he their host + Up, with a gracious radiance like the sun, + To bid them speed. Beside him in the court + Stood Dame Adalieta; comely she, + And of her port as queenly, and serene + As if the braided gold about her brows + Had been a crown. Mutual good-morrow given, + Thanks said and stayed, the lady prayed her guest + To take a token of his sojourn there, + Marking her good-will, not his worthiness; + "A gown of miniver--these furbelows + Are silk I spun--my lord wears ever such-- + A housewife's gift! but those ye love are far; + Wear it as given for them." Then Saladin-- + "A precious gift, Madonna, past my thanks; + And--but thou shalt not hear a 'no' from me-- + Past my receiving; yet I take it; we + Were debtors to your noble courtesy + Out of redemption--this but bankrupts us." + "Nay, sir,--God shield you!" said the knight and dame. + And Saladin, with phrase of gentilesse + Returned, or ever that he rode alone, + Swore a great oath in guttural Arabic, + An oath by Allah--startling up the ears + Of those three Christian cattle they bestrode-- + That never yet was princelier-natured man, + Nor gentler lady;--and that time should see + For a king's lodging quittance royal repaid. + + * * * * * + + It was the day of the Passaggio: + Ashore the war-steeds champed the burnished bit; + Afloat the galleys tugged the mooring-chain: + The town was out; the Lombard armourers-- + Red-hot with riveting the helmets up, + And whetting axes for the heathen heads-- + Cooled in the crowd that filled the squares and street: + To speed God's soldiers. At the none that day + Messer Torello to the gate came down, + Leading his lady;--sorrow's hueless rose + Grew on her cheek, and thrice the destrier + Struck fire, impatient, from the pavement-squares, + Or ere she spoke, tears in her lifted eyes, + "Goest thou, lord of mine?" "Madonna, yes!" + Said Torel, "for my soul's weal and the Lord + Ride I to-day: my good name and my house + Reliant I intrust thee, and--because + It may be they shall slay me, and because, + Being so young, so fair, and so reputed, + The noblest will entreat thee--wait for me, + Widow or wife, a year, and month, and day; + Then if thy kinsmen press thee to a choice, + And if I be not come, hold me for dead; + Nor link thy blooming beauty with the grave + Against thine heart." "Good my lord!" answered she, + "Hardly my heart sustains to let thee go; + Thy memory it can keep, and keep it will, + Though my one lord, Torel of Istria, + Live, or----" "Sweet, comfort thee! San Pietro speed! + I shall come home: if not, and worthy knees + Bend for this hand, whereof none worthy lives, + Least he who lays his last kiss thus upon it, + Look thee, I free it----" "Nay!" she said, "but I, + A petulant slave that hugs her golden chain, + Give that gift back, and with it this poor ring: + Set it upon thy sword-hand, and in fight + Be merciful and win, thinking of me." + Then she, with pretty action, drawing on + Her ruby, buckled over it his glove-- + The great steel glove--and through the helmet bars + Took her last kiss;--then let the chafing steed + Have its hot will and go. + But Saladin, + Safe back among his lords at Lebanon, + Well wotting of their quest, awaited it, + And held the Crescent up against the Cross, + In many a doughty fight Ferrara blades + Clashed with keen Damasc, many a weary month + Wasted afield; but yet the Christians + Won nothing nearer to Christ's sepulchre; + Nay, but gave ground. At last, in Acre pent, + On their loose files, enfeebled by the war, + Came stronger smiter than the Saracen-- + The deadly Pest: day after day they died, + Pikeman and knight-at-arms; day after day + A thinner line upon the leaguered wall + Held off the heathen:--held them off a space; + Then, over-weakened, yielded, and gave up + The city and the stricken garrison. + So to sad chains and hateful servitude + Fell all those purple lords--Christendom's stars, + Once high in hope as soaring Lucifer, + Now low as sinking Hesper: with them fell + Messer Torello--never one so poor + Of all the hundreds that his bounty fed + As he in prison--ill-entreated, bound, + Starved of sweet light, and set to shameful tasks; + And that great load at heart to know the days + Fast flying, and to live accounted dead. + One joy his gaolers left him,--his good hawk; + The brave, gay bird that crossed the seas with him: + And often, in the mindful hour of eve, + With tameless eye and spirit masterful, + In a feigned anger checking at his hand, + The good gray falcon made his master cheer. + + One day it chanced Saladin rode afield + With shawled and turbaned Amirs, and his hawks-- + Lebanon-bred, and mewed as princes lodge-- + Flew foul, forgot their feather, hung at wrist, + And slighted call. The Soldan, quick in wrath, + Bade slay the cravens, scourge the falconer, + And seek some wight who knew the heart of hawks, + To keep it hot and true. Then spake a Sheikh-- + "There is a Frank in prison by the sea, + Far-seen herein." "Give word that he be brought," + Quoth Saladin, "and bid him set a cast: + If he hath skill, it shall go well for him." + + Thus by the winding path of circumstance + One palace held, as prisoner and prince, + Torello and his guest: unwitting each, + Nay and unwitting, though they met and spake + Of that goshawk and this--signors in serge, + And chapmen crowned, who knows?--till on a time + Some trick of face, the manner of some smile, + Some gleam of sunset from the glad day gone, + Caught the king's eye, and held it. "Nazarene! + What native art thou?" asked he. "Lombard I, + A man of Pavia." "And thy name?" "Torel, + Messer Torello called in happier times, + Now best uncalled." "Come hither, Christian!" + The Soldan said, and led the way, by court + And hall and fountain, to an inner room + Rich with king's robes: therefrom he reached a gown, + And "Know'st thou this?" he asked. "High lord! I might + Elsewhere," quoth Torel, "here 'twere mad to say + Yon gown my wife unto a trader gave + Who shared our board." "Nay, but that gown is this, + And she the giver, and the trader I," + Quoth Saladin; "I! twice a king to-day, + Owing a royal debt and paying it." + Then Torel, sore amazed, "Great lord, I blush, + Remembering how the Master of the East + Lodged sorrily." "It's Master's Master thou!" + Gave answer Saladin, "come in and see + What wares the Cyprus traders keep at home; + Come forth and take thy place, Saladin's friend," + Therewith into the circle of his lords, + With gracious mien the Soldan led his slave; + And while the dark eyes glittered, seated him + First of the full divan. "Orient lords," + So spake he,--"let the one who loves his king + Honour this Frank, whose house sheltered your king; + He is my brother:" then the night-black beards + Swept the stone floor in ready reverence, + Agas and Amirs welcoming Torel: + And a great feast was set, the Soldan's friend + Royally garbed, upon the Soldan's hand, + Shining the bright star of the banqueters. + + * * * * * + + All which, and the abounding grace and love + Shown him by Saladin, a little held + The heart of Torel from its Lombard home + With Dame Adalieta: but it chanced + He sat beside the king in audience, + And there came one who said, "Oh, Lord of lords, + That galley of the Genovese which sailed + With Frankish prisoners is gone down at sea." + "Gone down!" cried Torel. "Ay! what recks it, friend, + To fall thy visage for?" quoth Saladin; + "One galley less to ship-stuffed Genoa!" + "Good my liege!" Torel said, "it bore a scroll + Inscribed to Pavia, saying that I lived; + For in a year, a month, and day, not come, + I bade them hold me dead; and dead I am, + Albeit living, if my lady wed, + Perchance constrained." "Certes," spake Saladin, + "A noble dame--the like not won, once lost-- + How many days remain?" "Ten days, my prince, + And twelvescore leagues between my heart and me: + Alas! how to be passed?" Then Saladin-- + "Lo! I am loath to lose thee--wilt thou swear + To come again if all go well with thee, + Or come ill speeding?" "Yea, I swear, my king, + Out of true love," quoth Torel, "heartfully." + Then Saladin, "Take here my signet-seal; + My admiral will loose his swiftest sail + Upon its sight; and cleave the seas, and go + And clip thy dame, and say the Trader sends + A gift, remindful of her courtesies." + Passed were the year, and month, and day; and passed + Out of all hearts but one Sir Torel's name, + Long given for dead by ransomed Pavians: + For Pavia, thoughtless of her Eastern graves, + A lovely widow, much too gay for grief, + Made peals from half a hundred campaniles + To ring a wedding in. The seven bells + Of Santo Pietro, from the nones to noon, + Boomed with bronze throats the happy tidings out; + Till the great tenor, overswelled with sound, + Cracked itself dumb. Thereat the sacristan, + Leading his swinked ringers down the stairs, + Came blinking into sunlight--all his keys + Jingling their little peal about his belt-- + Whom, as he tarried, locking up the porch, + A foreign signor, browned with southern suns, + Turbaned and slippered, as the Muslims use, + Plucked by the cope. "Friend," quoth he--'twas a tongue + Italian true, but in a Muslim mouth-- + "Why are your belfries busy--is it peace + Or victory, that so ye din the ears + Of Pavian lieges?" "Truly, no liege thou!" + Grunted the sacristan, "who knowest not + That Dame Adalieta weds to-night + Her fore-betrothed,--Sir Torel's widow she, + That died i' the chain?" "To-night!" the stranger said + "Ay, sir, to-night!--why not to-night?--to-night! + And you shall see a goodly Christian feast + If so you pass their gates at even-song, + For all are asked." + No more the questioner, + But folded o'er his face the Eastern hood, + Lest idle eyes should mark how idle words + Had struck him home. "So quite forgot!--so soon!-- + And this the square wherein I gave the joust, + And that the loggia, where I fed the poor; + And yon my palace, where--oh, fair! oh, false!-- + They robe her for a bridal. Can it be? + Clean out of heart, with twice six flying moons, + The heart that beat on mine as it would break, + That faltered forty oaths. Forced! forced!--not false-- + Well! I will sit, wife, at thy wedding-feast, + And let mine eyes give my fond faith the lie." + So in the stream of gallant guests that flowed + Feastward at eve, went Torel; passed with them + The outer gates, crossed the great courts with them, + A stranger in the walls that called him lord. + Cressets and coloured lamps made the way bright, + And rose-leaves strewed to where within the doors + The master of the feast, the bridegroom, stood, + A-glitter from his forehead to his foot, + Speaking fair welcomes. He, a courtly lord, + Marking the Eastern guest, bespoke him sweet, + Prayed place for him, and bade them set his seat + Upon the dais. Then the feast began, + And wine went free as wit, and music died-- + Outdone by merrier laughter.--only one + Nor ate nor drank, nor spoke nor smiled; but gazed + On the pale bride, pale as her crown of pearls, + Who sate so cold and still, and sad of cheer, + At the bride-feast. + But of a truth, Torel + Read the thoughts right that held her eyelids down, + And knew her loyal to her memories. + Then to a little page who bore the wine, + He spake, "Go tell thy lady thus from me: + In mine own land, if any stranger sit + A wedding-guest, the bride, out of her grace, + In token that she knows her guest's good-will, + In token she repays it, brims a cup, + Wherefrom he drinking she in turn doth drink; + So is our use." The little page made speed + And told the message. Then that lady pale-- + Ever a gentle and a courteous heart-- + Lifted her troubled eyes and smiled consent + On the swart stranger. By her side, untouched, + Stood the brimmed gold; "Bear this," she said, "and pray + He hold a Christian lady apt to learn + A kindly lesson." But Sir Torel loosed + From off his finger--never loosed before-- + The ring she gave him on the parting day; + And ere he drank, behind his veil of beard + Dropped in the cup the ruby, quaffed, and sent.-- + Then she, with sad smile, set her lips to drink, + And--something in the Cyprus touching them, + Glanced--gazed--the ring!--her ring!--Jove! how she eyes + The wistful eyes of Torel!--how, heartsure, + Under all guise knowing her lord returned, + She springs to meet him coming!--telling all + In one great cry of joy. + O me! the rout, + The storm of questions! stilled, when Torel spake + His name, and, known of all, claimed the Bride Wife, + Maugre the wasted feast, and woful groom. + All hearts but his were light to see Torel; + But Adalieta's lightest, as she plucked + The bridal-veil away. Something therein-- + A lady's dagger--small, and bright, and fine-- + Clashed out upon the marble. "Wherefore that?" + Asked Torel; answered she, "I knew you true; + And I could live, so long as I might wait; + But they--they pressed me hard! my days of grace + Ended to-night--and I had ended too, + Faithful to death, if so thou hadst not come." + + + + +_THE CALIPH'S DRAUGHT_. + + + Upon a day in Ramadan-- + When sunset brought an end of fast, + And in his station every man + Prepared to share the glad repast-- + Sate Mohtasim in royal state, + The pillaw smoked upon the gold; + The fairest slave of those that wait + Mohtasim's jewelled cup did hold. + + Of crystal carven was the cup, + With turquoise set along the brim, + A lid of amber closed it up; + 'Twas a great king that gave it him. + The slave poured sherbet to the brink, + Stirred in wild honey and pomegranate, + With snow and rose-leaves cooled the drink, + And bore it where the Caliph sate. + + The Caliph's mouth was dry as bone, + He swept his beard aside to quaff:-- + The news-reader beneath the throne, + Went droning on with _ghain_ and _kaf_.-- + The Caliph drew a mighty breath, + Just then the reader read a word-- + And Mohtasim, as grim as death, + Set down the cup and snatched his sword. + + "_Ann' amratan shureefatee!_" + "Speak clear!" cries angry Mohtasim; + "_Fe lasr ind' ilj min ulji_,"-- + Trembling the newsman read to him + How in Ammoria, far from home, + An Arab girl of noble race + Was captive to a lord of Roum; + And how he smote her on the face, + + And how she cried, for life afraid, + "Ya, Mohtasim! help, O my king!" + And how the Kafir mocked the maid, + And laughed, and spake a bitter thing, + "Call louder, fool! Mohtasim's ears + Are long as Barak's--if he heed-- + Your prophet's ass; and when he hears, + He'll come upon a spotted steed!" + + The Caliph's face was stern and red, + He snapped the lid upon the cup; + "Keep this same sherbet, slave," he said, + "Till such time as I drink it up. + Wallah! the stream my drink shall be, + My hollowed palm my only bowl, + Till I have set that lady free, + And seen that Roumi dog's head roll." + + At dawn the drums of war were beat, + Proclaiming, "Thus saith Mohtasim, + 'Let all my valiant horsemen meet, + And every soldier bring with him + A spotted steed,'" So rode they forth, + A sight of marvel and of fear; + Pied horses prancing fiercely north; + The crystal cup borne in the rear! + + When to Ammoria he did win, + He smote and drove the dogs of Roum, + And rode his spotted stallion in, + Crying, "_Labbayki!_ I am come!" + Then downward from her prison-place + Joyful the Arab lady crept; + She held her hair before her face, + She kissed his feet, she laughed and wept. + + She pointed where that lord was laid: + They drew him forth, he whined for grace: + Then with fierce eyes Mohtasim said-- + "She whom thou smotest on the face + Had scorn, because she called her king: + Lo! he is come! and dost thou think + To live, who didst this bitter thing + While Mohtasim at peace did drink?" + + Flashed the fierce sword--rolled the lord's head; + The wicked blood smoked in the sand. + "Now bring my cup!" the Caliph said. + Lightly he took it in his hand, + As down his throat the sweet drink ran + Mohtasim in his saddle laughed, + And cried, "_Taiba asshrab alan!_ + By God! delicious is this draught!" + + + + +_HINDOO FUNERAL SONG_. + + + Call on Rama! call to Rama! + Oh, my brothers, call on Rama! + For this Dead + Whom we bring, + Call aloud to mighty Rama. + + As we bear him, oh, my brothers, + Call together, very loudly, + That the Bhuts + May be scared; + That his spirit pass in comfort. + + Turn his feet now, calling "Rama," + Calling "Rama," who shall take him + When the flames + Make an end: + Ram! Ram!--oh, call to Rama. + + + + +_SONG OF THE SERPENT-CHARMERS._ + + + Come forth, oh, Snake! come forth, oh, glittering Snake! + Oh shining, lovely, deadly Nag! appear, + Dance to the music that we make, + This serpent-song, so sweet and clear, + Blown on the beaded gourd, so clear, + So soft and clear. + + Oh, dread Lord Snake! come forth and spread thy hood, + And drink the milk and suck the eggs; and show + Thy tongue; and own the tune is good: + Hear, Maharaj! how hard we blow! + Ah, Maharaj! for thee we blow; + See how we blow! + + Great Uncle Snake! creep forth and dance to-day! + This music is the music snakes love best; + Taste the warm white new milk, and play + Standing erect, with fangs at rest, + Dancing on end, sharp fangs at rest, + Fierce fangs at rest. + + Ah, wise Lord Nag! thou comest!--Fear thou not! + We make salaam to thee, the Serpent-King, + Draw forth thy folds, knot after knot; + Dance, Master! while we softly sing; + Dance, Serpent! while we play and sing, + We play and sing. + + Dance, dreadful King! whose kisses strike men dead; + Dance this side, mighty Snake! the milk is here! + +[_They seize the Cobra by the neck_.] + + Ah, _shabash_! pin his angry head! + Thou fool! this nautch shall cost thee dear; + Wrench forth his fangs! this piping clear, + It costs thee dear! + + + + +_SONG OF THE FLOUR-MILL._ + + + Turn the merry mill-stone, Gunga! + Pour the golden grain in; + Those that twist the Churrak fastest + The cakes soonest win: + Good stones, turn! + The fire begins to burn; + Gunga, stay not! + The hearth is nearly hot. + Grind the hard gold to silver; + Sing quick to the stone; + Feed its mouth with dal and bajri, + It will feed us anon. + + Sing, Gunga! to the mill-stone, + It helps the wheel hum; + Blithesome hearts and willing elbows + Make the fine meal come: + Handsful three + For you and for me; + Now it falls white, + Good stones, bite! + Drive it round and round, my Gunga! + Sing soft to the stone; + Better corn and churrak-working + Than idleness and none. + + + + +_TAZA BA TAZA_ + + + Akbar sate high in the ivory hall, + His chief musician he bade them call; + Sing, said the king, that song of glee. + _Taza ba taza, now ba now._ + Sing me that music sweet and free, + _Taza ba taza, now ba now_; + Here by the fountain sing it thou, + _Taza ba taza, now ba now._ + + Bending full low, his minstrel took + The Vina down from its painted nook. + Swept the strings of silver so + _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_ + Made the gladsome Vina go + _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_ + Sang with light strains and brightsome brow + _Taza ba taza, now ba now_. + + "What is the lay for love most fit? + What is the melody echoes it? + Ever in tune and ever meet, + _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_ + Ever delightful and ever sweet + _Taza ba taza, now ba now;_ + Soft as the murmur of love's first vow, + _Taza ba taza, now ba now_." + + "What is the bliss that is best on earth? + Lovers' light whispers and tender mirth; + Bright gleams the sun on the Green Sea's isle, + But a brighter light has a woman's smile: + Ever, like sunrise, fresh of hue, + _Taza ba taza, now ba now_; + Ever, like sunset, splendid and new, + _Taza ba taza, now ba now_." + + "Thereunto groweth the graceful vine + To cool the lips of lovers with wine, + Haste thee and bring the amethyst cup, + That happy lovers may drink it up; + And so renew their gentle play, + _Taza ba taza, now ba now_; + Ever delicious and new alway, + _Taza ba taza, now ba now_." + + "Thereunto sigheth the evening gale + To freshen the cheeks which love made pale; + This is why bloometh the scented flower, + To gladden with grace love's secret bower: + Love is the zephyr that always blows, + _Taza ba taza, now ba now_; + Love is the rose-bloom that ever glows, + _Taza ba taza, now ba now_." + + Akbar, the mighty one, smiled to hear + The musical strain so soft and clear; + Danced the diamonds over his brow + To _taza ba taza, now ba now_: + His lovely ladies rocked in a row + To _taza ba taza, now ba now_; + + Livelier sparkled the fountain's flow, + _Boose sittan ba kaum uzo_; + Swifter and sweeter the strings did go, + _Mutrib i khoosh nuwa bejo_; + Never such singing was heard, I trow; + _Taza ba taza, now ba now_. + + + + +_THE MUSSULMAN PARADISE_. + +(_From the Arabic of the Fifty-sixth Surat of the Koran, entitled "The +Inevitable._") + + + When the Day of Wrath and Mercy cometh, none shall doubt it come; + Unto hell some it shall lower, and exalt to heaven some. + + When the Earth with great shocks shaketh, and the mountains crumble + flat, + Quick and Dead shall be divided fourfold:--on this side and that. + + The "Companions of the Right Hand" (ah! how joyful they will be!) + The "Companions of the Left Hand" (oh! what misery to see!) + + Such, moreover, as of old times loved the truth, and taught it well, + First in faith, they shall be foremost in reward. The rest to hell. + + But those souls attaining Allah, oh! the Gardens of good cheer + Kept to bless them! Yea, besides the "faithful," many shall be there. + + Lightly lying on soft couches, beautiful with 'broidered gold, + Friends with friends, they shall be served by youths immortal, who + shall hold. + + "_Akwab, abareek_"--cups and goblets, brimming with celestial wine, + Wine that hurts not head or stomach: this and fruits of heav'n which + shine. + + Bright, desirable; and rich flesh of what birds they relish best. + Yea! and--feasted--there shall soothe them damsels fairest, stateliest; + + Damsels, having eyes of wonder, large black eyes, like hidden pearls, + "_Lulu-l-maknun_": Allah grants them for sweet love those matchless + girls. + + Never in that Garden hear they speech of folly, sin, or dread, + Only PEACE; "_SALAMUN_" only; that one word for ever said. + + PEACE! PEACE! PEACE!--and the "Companions of the Right Hand" (ah! + those bowers!) + They shall lodge 'mid thornless lote-groves; under mawz-trees thick + with flowers; + + Shaded, fed, by flowing waters; near to fruits that never cloy, + Hanging ever ripe for plucking; and at hand the tender joy, + + Of those Maids of Heaven--the Huris. Lo! to these we gave a birth + Specially creating. Lo! they are not as the wives of earth. + + Ever virginal and stainless, howsooften they embrace, + Always young, and loved, and loving, these are. Neither is there grace, + + Like the grace and bliss the Black-eyed keep for you in Paradise; + Oh, "Companions of the Right Hand"! oh! ye others who were wise! + + + + +_DEDICATION OF A POEM FROM THE SANSKRIT_. + + + Sweet, on the daisies of your English grave + I lay this little wreath of Indian flowers, + Fragrant for me because the scent they have + Breathes of the memory of our wedded hours; + + For others scentless; and for you, in heaven, + Too pale and faded, dear dead wife! to wear, + Save that they mean--what makes all fault forgiven-- + That he who brings them lays his heart, too, there. + +_April_ 9, 1865. + + + + +_THE RAJAH'S RIDE_. + +A PUNJAB SONG. + + + Now is the Devil-horse come to Sindh! + Wah! wah! gooroo!--that is true! + His belly is stuffed with the fire and the wind, + But a fleeter steed had Runjeet Dehu! + + It's forty koss from Lahore to the ford, + Forty and more to far Jummoo; + Fast may go the Feringhee lord, + But never so fast as Runjeet Dehu! + + Runjeet Dehu was King of the Hill, + Lord and eagle of every crest; + Now the swords and the spears are still, + God will have it--and God knows best! + + Rajah Runjeet sate in the sky, + Watching the loaded Kafilas in; + Affghan, Kashmeree, passing by, + Paid him pushm to save their skin, + + Once he caracoled into the plain, + Wah! the sparkle of steel on steel! + And up the pass came singing again + With a lakh of silver borne at his heel. + + Once he trusted the Mussulman's word, + Wah! wah! trust a liar to lie! + Down from his eyrie they tempted my Bird, + And clipped his wings that he could not fly. + + Fettered him fast in far Lahore, + Fast by the gate at the Runchenee Pul; + Sad was the soul of Chunda Kour, + Glad the merchants of rich Kurnool. + + Ten months Runjeet lay in Lahore-- + Wah! a hero's heart is brass! + Ten months never did Chunda Kour + Braid her hair at the tiring-glass. + + There came a steed from Toorkistan, + Wah! God made him to match the hawk! + Fast beside him the four grooms ran, + To keep abreast of the Toorkman's walk. + + Black as the bear on Iskardoo; + Savage at heart as a tiger chained; + Fleeter than hawk that ever flew, + Never a Muslim could ride him reined. + + "Runjeet Dehu! come forth from thy hold"-- + Wah! ten months had rusted his chain! + "Ride this Sheitan's liver cold"-- + Runjeet twisted his hand in the mane. + + Runjeet sprang to the Toorkman's back, + Wah! a king on a kingly throne! + Snort, black Sheitan! till nostrils crack, + Rajah Runjeet sits, a stone. + + Three times round the Maidan he rode, + Touched its neck at the Kashmeree wall, + Struck the spurs till they spirted blood, + Leapt the rampart before them all! + + Breasted the waves of the blue Ravee, + Forty horsemen mounting behind, + Forty bridle-chains flung free,-- + Wah! wah! better chase the wind! + + Chunda Kour sate sad in Jummoo:-- + Hark! what horse-hoof echoes without? + "Rise! and welcome Runjeet Dehu-- + Wash the Toorkman's nostrils out! + + "Forty koss he has come, my life! + Forty koss back he must carry me; + Rajah Runjeet visits his wife, + He steals no steed like an Afreedee. + + "They bade me teach them how to ride-- + Wah! wah! now I have taught them well!" + Chunda Kour sank low at his side! + Rajah Runjeet rode the hill. + + When he came back to far Lahore-- + Long or ever the night began-- + Spake he, "Take your horse once more, + He carries well--when he bears a man." + + Then they gave him a khillut and gold, + All for his honour and grace and truth; + Sent him back to his mountain-hold-- + Muslim manners have touch of ruth; + + Sent him back, with dances and drum-- + Wah! my Rajah Runjeet Dehu! + To Chunda Kour and his Jummoo home-- + Wah! wah! futteh!--wah, gooroo! + + + + +_TWO BOOKS FROM THE ILIAD OF INDIA._ + + + + +_TWO BOOKS FROM THE ILIAD OF INDIA._ + +(_Now for the first time translated_.) + + +There exist certain colossal, unparalleled, epic poems in the sacred +language of India, which were not known to Europe, even by name, till Sir +William Jones announced their existence; and which, since his time, have +been made public only by fragments--by mere specimens--bearing to those +vast treasures of Sanskrit literature such small proportion as cabinet +samples of ore have to the riches of a mine. Yet these twain mighty poems +contain all the history of ancient India, so far as it can be recovered, +together with such inexhaustible details of its political, social, and +religious life that the antique Hindu world really stands epitomised in +them. The Old Testament is not more interwoven with the Jewish race, nor +the New Testament with the civilisation of Christendom, nor the Koran with +the records and destinies of Islam, than are these two Sanskrit poems--the +Mahabharata and Ramayana--with that unchanging and teeming population which +Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, rules as Empress of Hindustan. The stories, +songs, and ballads, the histories and genealogies, the nursery tales and +religious discourses, the art, the learning, the philosophy, the creeds, +the moralities, the modes of thought; the very phrases, sayings, turns of +expression, and daily ideas of the Hindu people, are taken from these +poems. Their children and their wives are named out of them; so are their +cities, temples, streets, and cattle. They have constituted the library, +the newspaper, and the Bible--generation after generation--to all the +succeeding and countless millions of Indian people; and it replaces +patriotism with that race and stands in stead of nationality to possess +these two precious and inexhaustible books, and to drink from them as from +mighty and overflowing rivers. The value ascribed in Hindustan to these yet +little-known epics has transcended all literary standards established in +the West. They are personified, worshipped, and cited from as something +divine. To read or even listen to them is thought by the devout Hindu +sufficiently meritorious to bring prosperity to his household here and +happiness in the next world; they are held also to give wealth to the poor, +health to the sick, wisdom to the ignorant; and the recitation of certain +_parvas_ and _shlokas_ in them can fill the household of the barren, it is +believed, with children. A concluding passage of the great poem says:-- + + "The reading of this Mahabharata destroys all sin and + produces virtue; so much so, that the pronunciation of a + single shloka is sufficient to wipe away much guilt. This + Mahabharata contains the history of the gods, of the Rishis + in heaven and those on earth, of the Gandharvas and the + Rakshasas. It also contains the life and actions of the one + God, holy, immutable, and true,--who is Krishna, who is the + creator and the ruler of this universe; who is seeking the + welfare of his creation by means of his incomparable and + indestructible power; whose actions are celebrated by all + sages; who has bound human beings in a chain, of which one + end is life and the other death; on whom the Rishis + meditate, and a knowledge of whom imparts unalloyed + happiness to their hearts, and for whose gratification and + favour all the daily devotions are performed by all + worshippers. If a man reads the Mahabharata and has faith in + its doctrines, he is free from all sin, and ascends to + heaven after his death." + +In order to explain the portion of this Indian epic, here for the +first time published in English verse, I reprint a brief summary of +its plot:-- + +The "great war of Bharat" has its first scenes in Hastinapur, an +ancient and vanished city, formerly situated about sixty miles +north-east of the modern Delhi. The Ganges has washed away even the +ruins of this the metropolis of King Bharat's dominions. The poem +opens with a "sacrifice of snakes," but this is a prelude, connected +merely by a curious legend with the real beginning. That beginning is +reached when the five sons of "King Pandu the Pale" and the five sons +of "King Dhritarashtra the Blind," both of them descendants of Bharat, +are being brought up together in the palace. The first were called +Pandavas, the last Kauravas, and their lifelong feud is the main +subject of the epic. Yudhishthira, Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula, and Sahadeva +are the Pandava princes. Duryodhana is chief of the Kauravas. They +are instructed by one master, Drona, a Brahman, in the arts of war and +peace, and learn to manage and brand cattle, hunt wild animals, and +tame horses. There is in the early portion a striking picture of an +Aryan tournament, wherein the young cousins display their skill, +"highly arrayed, amid vast crowds," and Arjuna especially +distinguishes himself. Clad in golden mail, he shows amazing feats +with sword and bow. He shoots twenty-one arrows into the hollow of a +buffalo-horn while his chariot whirls along; he throws the "chakra," +or sharp quoit, without once missing his victim; and, after winning +the prizes, kneels respectfully at the feet of his instructor to +receive his crown. The cousins, after this, march out to fight with a +neighbouring king, and the Pandavas, who are always the favoured +family in the poem, win most of the credit, so that Yudhishthira is +elected from among them _Yuvaraj_, or heir apparent. This incenses +Duryodhana, who, by appealing to his father, Dhritarashtra, procures a +division of the kingdom, the Pandavas being sent to Vacanavat, now +Allahabad. All this part of the story refers obviously to the advances +gradually made by the Aryan conquerors of India into the jungles +peopled by aborigines. Forced to quit their new city, the Pandavas +hear of the marvellous beauty of Draupadi, whose _Swayamvara_, or +"choice of a suitor," is about to be celebrated at Kampilya. This +again furnishes a strange and glittering picture of the old times; +vast masses of holiday people, with rajahs, elephants, troops, +jugglers, dancing-women, and showmen, are gathered in a gay encampment +round the pavilion of the King Draupada, whose lovely daughter is to +take for her husband (on the well-understood condition that she +approves of him) the fortunate archer who can strike the eye of a +golden fish, whirling round upon the top of a tall pole, with an arrow +shot from an enormously strong bow. The princess, adorned with radiant +gems, holds a garland of flowers in her hand for the victorious +suitor; but none of the rajahs can bend the bow. Arjuna, disguised as +a Brahman, performs the feat with ease, and his youth and grace win +the heart of Draupadi more completely than his skill. The princess +henceforth follows the fortunes of the brothers, and, by a strange +ancient custom, lives with them in common. The Pandavas, now allied to +the King Draupada and become strong, are so much dreaded by the +Kauravas that they are invited back again, for safety's sake, to +Hastinapura, and settle near it in the city of Indraprastha, now +Delhi. The reign of Yudhishthira and his brothers is very prosperous +there; "every subject was pious; there were no liars, thieves, or +cheats; no droughts, floods, or locusts; no conflagrations nor +invaders, nor parrots to eat up the grain." + +The Pandava king, having subdued all enemies, now performs the +_Rajasuya_, or ceremony of supremacy,--and here again occur +wonderfully interesting pictures. Duryodhana comes thither, and his +jealousy is inflamed by the magnificence of the rite. Among other +curious incidents is one which seems to show that glass was already +known. A pavilion is paved with "black crystal," which the Kaurava +prince mistakes for water, and "draws up his garments lest he should +be wetted." But now approaches a turning-point in the epic. Furious at +the wealth and fortune of his cousins, Duryodhana invites them to +Hastinapura to join in a great gambling festival. The passion for play +was as strong apparently with these antique Hindus as that for +fighting or for love: "No true Kshatriya must ever decline a challenge +to combat or to dice." The brothers go to the entertainment, which is +to ruin their prosperity; for Sakuni, the most skilful and lucky +gambler, has loaded the "coupun," so as to win every throw. Mr. +Wheeler's excellent summary again says:-- + + "Then Yudhishthira and Sakuni sat down to play, and whatever + Yudhishthira laid as stakes Duryodhana laid something of + equal value; but Yudhishthira lost every game. He first lost + a very beautiful pearl; next a thousand bags each containing + a thousand pieces of gold; next a great piece of gold so + pure that it was as soft as wax; next a chariot set with + jewels and hung all round with golden bells; next a thousand + war-elephants with golden howdahs set with diamonds; next a + lakh of slaves all dressed in rich garments; next a lakh of + beautiful slave-girls, adorned from head to foot with golden + ornaments; next all the remainder of his goods; next all his + cattle; and then the whole of his Raj, excepting only the + lands which had been granted to the Brahmans." + +After this tremendous run of ill-luck, he madly stakes Draupadi the +Beautiful, and loses her. The princess is dragged away by the hair, +and Duryodhana mockingly bids her come and sit upon his knee, for +which Bhima the Pandava swears that he will some day break his +thigh-bone,--a vow which is duly kept. But the blind old king rebukes +this fierce elation of the winner, restores Draupadi, and declares +that they must throw another main to decide who shall leave +Hastinapura. The cheating Sakuni cogs the dice again, and the Pandavas +must now go away into the forest, and let no man know them by name for +thirteen years. They depart, Draupadi unbinding her long black hair, +and vowing never to fasten it back again till the hands of Bhima, the +strong man among the Pandavas, are red with the punishment of the +Kauravas. "Then he shall tie my tresses up again, when his fingers are +dripping with Duhsasana's blood." + +There follow long episodes of their adventures in the jungle till the +time when the Pandavas emerge, and, still disguised, take up their +residence in King Virata's city. Here the vicissitudes of Draupadi as +a handmaid of the queen, of Bhima as the palace wrestler, of Arjuna +disguised as a eunuch, and of Nakula, Sahadeva, and Yudhishthira, +acting as herdsmen and attendants, are most absorbing and dramatic. +The virtue of Draupadi, assailed by a prince of the State, is terribly +defended by the giant Bhima; and when the Kauravas, suspecting the +presence in the place of their cousins, attack Virata, Arjuna drives +the chariot of the heir apparent, and victoriously repulses them with +his awful bow Gandiva. + +After all these evidences of prowess and the help afforded in the +battle, the King of Virata discovers the princely rank of the +Pandavas, and gives his daughter in marriage to the son of Arjuna. A +great council is then held to consider the question of declaring war +on the Kauravas, at which the speeches are quite Homeric, the god +Krishna taking part. The decision is to prepare for war, but to send +an embassy first. Meantime Duryodhana and Arjuna engage in a singular +contest to obtain the aid of Krishna, whom both of them seek out. This +celestial hero is asleep when they arrive, and the proud Kaurava, as +Lord of Indraprastha, sits down at his head; Arjuna, more reverently, +takes a place at his feet. Krishna, awaking, offers to give his vast +army to one of them, and himself as counsellor to the other; and +Arjuna gladly allows Duryodhana to take the army, which turns out much +the worse bargain. The embassy, meantime, is badly received; but it is +determined to reply by a counter-message, while warlike preparations +continue. There is a great deal of useless negotiation, against which +Draupadi protests, like another Constance, saying, "War, war! no +peace! Peace is to me a war!" Krishna consoles her with the words, +"Weep not! the time has nearly come when the Kauravas will be slain, +both great and small, and their wives will mourn as you have been +mourning." The ferocity of the chief of the Kauravas prevails over the +wise counsels of the blind old king and the warnings of Krishna, so +that the fatal conflict must now begin upon the plain of Kurukshetra. + +All is henceforth martial and stormy in the "parvas" that ensue. The +two enormous hosts march to the field, generalissimos are selected, +and defiances of the most violent and abusive sort exchanged. Yet +there are traces of a singular civilisation in the rules which the +leaders draw up to be observed in the war. Thus, no stratagems are to +be used; the fighting men are to fraternise, if they will, after each +combat; none may slay the flier, the unarmed, the charioteer, or the +beater of the drum; horsemen are not to attack footmen, and nobody is +to fling a spear till the preliminary challenges are finished; nor may +any third man interfere when two combatants are engaged. These curious +regulations--which would certainly much embarrass Von Moltke--are, +sooth to say, not very strictly observed, and, no doubt, were inserted +at a later age in the body of the poem by its Brahman editors. Those +same interpolaters have overloaded the account of the eighteen days of +terrific battle which follow with many episodes and interruptions, +some very eloquent and philosophic; indeed, the whole _Bhagavad-Gita_ +comes in hereabouts as a religious interlude. Essays on laws, morals, +and the sciences are grafted, with lavish indifference to the +continuous flow of the narrative, upon its most important portions; +but there is enough of solid and tremendous fighting, notwithstanding, +to pale the crimson pages of the Greek Iliad itself. The field +glitters, indeed, with kings and princes in panoply of gold and +jewels, who engage in mighty and varied combats, till the earth swims +in blood, and the heavens themselves are obscured with dust and flying +weapons. One by one the Kaurava chiefs are slain, and Bhima, the +giant, at last meets in arms Duhsasana, the Kaurava prince who had +dragged Draupadi by the hair. He strikes him down with the terrible +mace of iron, after which he cuts off his head, and drinks of his +blood, saying, "Never have I tasted a draught so delicious as this." +So furious now becomes the war that even the just and mild Arjuna +commits two breaches of Aryan chivalry,--killing an enemy while +engaged with a third man, and shooting Karna dead while he is +extricating his chariot-wheel and without a weapon. At last none are +left of the chief Kauravas except Duryodhana, who retires from the +field and hides in an island of the lake. The Pandavas find him out, +and heap such reproaches on him that the surly warrior comes forth at +length, and agrees to fight with Bhima. The duel proves of a +tremendous nature, and is decided by an act of treachery; for Arjuna, +standing by, reminds Bhima, by a gesture, of his oath to break the +thigh of Duryodhana, because he had bidden Draupadi sit on his knee. +The giant takes the hint, and strikes a foul blow, which cripples the +Kaurava hero, and he falls helpless to earth. After this the Pandava +princes are declared victorious, and Yudhishthira is proclaimed king. + +The great poem soon softens its martial music into a pathetic strain. +The dead have to be burned, and the living reconciled to their new +lords; while afterwards King Yudhishthira is installed in high state +with "chamaras, golden umbrellas, elephants, and singing." He is +enthroned facing towards the east, and touches rice, flowers, earth, +gold, silver, and jewels, in token of owning all the products of his +realm. Being thus firmly seated on his throne, with his cousins round +him, the Rajah prepares to celebrate the most magnificent of ancient +Hindu rites,--the _Aswamedha_, or Sacrifice of the Horse. It is +difficult to raise the thoughts of a modern and Western public to the +solemnity, majesty, and marvel of this antique Oriental rite, as +viewed by Hindus. The monarch who was powerful enough to perform it +chose a horse of pure white colour, "like the moon," with a saffron +tail, and a black right ear; or the animal might be all black, without +a speck of colour. This steed, wearing a gold plate on its forehead, +with the royal name inscribed, was turned loose, and during a whole +year the king's army was bound to follow its wanderings. Whithersoever +it went, the ruler of the invaded territory must either pay homage to +the king, and join him with his warriors, or accept battle; but +whether conquered or peacefully submitting, all these princes must +follow the horse, and at the end of the year assist at the sacrifice +of the consecrated animal. Moreover, during the whole year the king +must restrain all passion, live a perfectly purified life, and sleep +on the bare ground. The white horse could not be loosened until the +night of the full moon in _Chaitra_, which answers to the latter half +of March and the first half of April,--in fact, at Easter-time; and it +may be observed here that this is not the only strange coincidence in +the sacrifice. It was thus an adventure of romantic conquest, mingled +with deep religion and arrogant ostentation; and the entire +description of the _Aswamedha_ would prove most interesting. The horse +is found, is adorned with the golden plate, and turned loose, +wandering into distant regions; where the army of Arjuna--for it was +he who led Yudhishthira's forces--goes through twelve amazing +adventures. They come, for instance, to a land of Amazons, all of +wonderful beauty, wearing armour of pearls and gold, and equally fatal +either to love or to fight with. These dazzling enemies, however, +finally submit, as also the Rajah of the rich city of Babhruvahan, +which possessed high walls of solid silver, and was lighted with +precious jewels for lamps. The serpent people, in the same way, who +live beneath the earth in the city of Vasuki, yield, after combat, to +Arjuna. A thousand million semi-human snakemen dwelt there, with wives +of consummate loveliness, possessing in their realm gems which would +restore dead people to life, as well as a fountain of perpetual youth. +Finally, Arjuna's host marches back in great glory, and with a vast +train of vanquished monarchs, to the city of Hastinapura, where all +the subject kings have audience of Yudhishthira, and the immense +preparations begin for the sacrifice of the snow-white horse. + +After all these stately celebrations, it might be expected that the +great poem would conclude with the established glories of the ancient +dynasty. But if the martial part of the colossal epic is "Kshatriyan," +and the religious episodes "Brahmanic," the conclusion breathes the +spirit of Buddhism. Yudhishthira sits grandly on the throne; but +earthly greatness does not content the soul of man, nor can riches +render weary hearts happy. A wonderful scene, which reads like a +rebuke from the dead addressed to the living upon the madness of all +war, occurs in this part of the poem. The Pandavas and the old King +Dhritarashtra being together by the banks of the Ganges, the great +saint Vyasa undertakes to bring back to them all the departed, slain +in their fratricidal conflict. The spectacle is at once terrible and +tender. + +But this revealing of the invisible world deepens the discontent of +the princes, and when the sage Vyasa tells them that their prosperity +is near its end, they determine to leave their kingdom to younger +princes, and to set out with their faces towards Mount Meru, where is +Indra's heaven. If, haply, they may reach it, there will be an end of +this world's joys and sorrows, and "union with the Infinite" will be +obtained. My translations from the Sanskrit of the two concluding +parvas of the poem (of which the above is a swift summary) describe +the "Last Journey" of the princes and their "Entry into Heaven;" and +herein occurs one of the noblest religious apologues not only of this +great Epic but of any creed,--a beautiful fable of faithful love +which may be contrasted, to the advantage of the Hindu teaching, with +any Scriptural representations of Death, and of Love, "which stronger +is than Death." There is always something selfish in the anxiety of +Orthodox people to save their own souls, and our best religious +language is not free from that taint of pious egotism. The Parvas of +the Mahabharata which contain Yudhishthira's approach to Indra's +paradise teach, on the contrary, that deeper and better lesson nobly +enjoined by an American poet-- + + "The gate of heaven opens to none alone, + Save thou one soul, and it shall save thine own." + +These prefatory remarks seemed necessary to introduce the subjoined +close paraphrase of the "Book of the Great Journey,"--and the "Book of +the Entry into Heaven;" being the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Parvas of +the noble but, as yet, almost unknown Mahabharata. + + + + +THE MAHAPRASTHANIKA PARVA OF THE MAHABHARATA. + +"THE GREAT JOURNEY." + + + _To Narayen, Lord of lords, be glory given, + To sweet Saraswati, the Queen in Heaven, + To great Vyasa, eke, pay reverence due, + So shall this story its high course pursue._ + + Then Janmejaya prayed: "Thou Singer, say, + What wrought the princes of the Pandavas + On tidings of the battle so ensued, + And Krishna, gone on high?" + + Answered the Sage: + "On tidings of the wreck of Vrishni's race, + King Yudhishthira of the Pandavas + Was minded to be done with earthly things, + And to Arjuna spake: 'O noble Prince, + Time endeth all; we linger, noose on neck, + Till the last day tightens the line, and kills. + Let us go forth to die, being yet alive,' + And Kunti's son, the great Arjuna, said: + 'Let us go forth to die!--Time slayeth all; + We will find Death, who seeketh other men.' + And Bhimasena, hearing, answered: 'Yea! + We will find Death!' and Sahadev cried: 'Yea!' + And his twin brother Nakula: whereat + The princes set their faces for the Mount. + + "But Yudhishthira--ere he left his realm, + To seek high ending--summoned Yuyutsu, + Surnamed of fights, and set him over all, + Regent, to rule in Parikshita's name + Nearest the throne; and Parikshita king + He crowned, and unto old Subhadra said: + 'This, thy son's son, shall wear the Kuru crown, + And Yadu's offspring, Vajra, shall be first + In Yadu's house. Bring up the little prince + Here in our Hastinapur, but Vajra keep + At Indraprasth; and let it be thy last + Of virtuous works to guard the lads, and guide.' + + "So ordering ere he went, the righteous king + Made offering of white water, heedfully, + To Vasudev, to Rama, and the rest,-- + All funeral rites performing; next he spread + A funeral feast, whereat there sate as guests + Narada, Dwaipayana, Bharadwaj, + And Markandeya, rich in saintly years, + And Tajnavalkya, Hari, and the priests. + Those holy ones he fed with dainty meats + In kingliest wise, naming the name of Him + Who bears the bow: and--that it should be well + For him and his--gave to the Brahmanas + Jewels of gold and silver, lakhs on lakhs. + Fair broidered cloths, gardens and villages, + Chariots and steeds and slaves. + + "Which being done,-- + O Best of Bharat's line!--he bowed him low + Before his Guru's feet,--at Kripa's feet, + That sage all honoured,--saying, 'Take my prince; + Teach Parikshita as thou taughtest me; + For hearken, ministers and men of war! + Fixed is my mind to quit all earthly state.' + Full sore of heart were they, and sore the folk + To hear such speech, and bitter spread the word + Through town and country, that the king would go; + And all the people cried, 'Stay with us, Lord!' + But Yudhishthira knew the time was come, + Knew that life passes and that virtue lasts, + And put aside their love. + + "So--with farewells + Tenderly took of lieges and of lords-- + Girt he for travel, with his princely kin, + Great Yudhishthira, Dharma's royal son. + Crest-gem and belt and ornaments he stripped + From off his body, and, for broidered robe + A rough dress donned, woven of jungle-bark; + And what he did--O Lord of men!--so did + Arjuna, Bhima, and the twin-born pair, + Nakula with Sahadev, and she--in grace + The peerless--Draupadi. Lastly these six, + Thou son of Bharata! in solemn form + Made the high sacrifice of Naishtiki, + Quenching their flames in water at the close; + And so set forth, 'midst wailing of all folk + And tears of women, weeping most to see + The Princess Draupadi--that lovely prize + Of the great gaming, Draupadi the Bright-- + Journeying afoot; but she and all the Five + Rejoiced, because their way lay heavenwards. + + "Seven were they, setting forth,--princess and king, + The king's four brothers, and a faithful dog. + Those left Hastinapur; but many a man, + And all the palace household, followed them + The first sad stage; and, ofttimes prayed to part, + Put parting off for love and pity, still + Sighing 'A little farther!'--till day waned; + Then one by one they turned, and Kripa said, + 'Let all turn back, Yuyutsu! These must go.' + So came they homewards, but the Snake-King's child, + Ulupi, leapt in Ganges, losing them; + And Chitranagad with her people went + Mournful to Munipoor, whilst the three queens + Brought Parikshita in. + + "Thus wended they, + Pandu's five sons and loveliest Draupadi, + Tasting no meat, and journeying due east; + On righteousness their high hearts bent, to heaven + Their souls assigned; and steadfast trode their feet, + By faith upborne, past nullah, ran, and wood, + River and jheel and plain. King Yudhishthir + Walked foremost, Bhima followed, after him + Arjuna, and the twin-born brethren next, + Nakula with Sahadev; in whose still steps-- + O Best of Bharat's offspring!--Draupadi, + That gem of women, paced; with soft, dark face,-- + Beautiful, wonderful!--and lustrous eyes, + Clear-lined like lotus-petals; last the dog, + Following the Pandavas. + + "At length they reach + The far Lauchityan Sea, which foameth white + Under Udayachala's ridge.--Know ye + That all this while Nakula had not ceased + Bearing the holy bow, named Gandiva, + And jewelled quiver, ever filled with shafts + Though one should shoot a thousand thousand times. + Here--broad across their path--the heroes see + Agni, the god. As though a mighty hill + Took form of front and breast and limb, he spake. + Seven streams of shining splendour rayed his brow, + While the dread voice said: 'I am Agni, chiefs! + O sons of Pandu, I am Agni! Hail! + O long-armed Yudhishthira, blameless king,-- + O warlike Bhima,--O Arjuna, wise,-- + O brothers twin-born from a womb divine,-- + Hear! I am Agni, who consumed the wood + By will of Narayan for Arjuna's sake. + Let this your brother give Gandiva back-- + The matchless bow: the use for it is o'er. + That gem-ringed battle-discus which he whirled + Cometh again to Krishna in his hand + For avatars to be; and need is none + Henceforth of this most excellent bright bow, + Gandiva, which I brought for Partha's aid + From high Varuna. Let it be returned. + Cast it herein!' + + "And all the princes said, + 'Cast it, dear brother!' So Arjuna threw + Into that sea the quiver ever-filled, + And glittering bow. Then led by Agni's light, + Unto the south they turned, and so south-west, + And afterwards right west, until they saw + Dwaraka, washed and bounded by a main + Loud-thundering on its shores; and here--O Best!-- + Vanished the God; while yet those heroes walked, + Now to the north-west bending, where long coasts + Shut in the sea of salt, now to the north, + Accomplishing all quarters, journeyed they; + The earth their altar of high sacrifice, + Which these most patient feet did pace around + Till Meru rose. + + "At last it rose! These Six, + Their senses subjugate, their spirits pure, + Wending alone, came into sight--far off + In the eastern sky--of awful Himavan; + And, midway in the peaks of Himavan, + Meru, the Mountain of all mountains, rose, + Whose head is Heaven; and under Himavan + Glared a wide waste of sand, dreadful as death. + + "Then, as they hastened o'er the deadly waste, + Aiming for Meru, having thoughts at soul + Infinite, eager,--lo! Draupadi reeled, + With faltering heart and feet; and Bhima turned + Gazing upon her; and that hero spake + To Yudhishthira: 'Master, Brother, King + Why doth she fail? For never all her life + Wrought our sweet lady one thing wrong, I think. + Thou knowest, make us know, why hath she failed?' + + "Then Yudhishthira answered: 'Yea, one thing. + She loved our brother better than all else,-- + Better than heaven: that was her tender sin, + Fault of a faultless soul; she pays for that' + 'So spake the monarch, turning not his eyes, + Though Draupadi lay dead--striding straight on + For Meru, heart-full of the things of heaven, + Perfect and firm. But yet a little space, + And Sahadev fell down, which Bhima seeing, + Cried once again: 'O King, great Madri's son + Stumbles and sinks. Why hath he sunk?--so true, + So brave and steadfast, and so free from pride!' + + "'He was not free,' with countenance still fixed, + Quoth Yudhishthira; 'he was true and fast + And wise, yet wisdom made him proud; he hid + One little hurt of soul, but now it kills.' + + "So saying, he strode on--Kunti's strong son-- + And Bhima, and Arjuna followed him, + And Nakula, and the hound; leaving behind + Sahadev in the sands. But Nakula, + Weakened and grieved to see Sahadev fall-- + His loved twin-brother--lagged and stayed; and next + Prone on his face he fell, that noble face + Which had no match for beauty in the land,-- + Glorious and godlike Nakula! Then sighed + Bhima anew: 'Brother and Lord! the man + Who never erred from virtue, never broke + Our fellowship, and never in the world + Was matched for goodly perfectness of form + Or gracious feature,--Nakula has fallen!' + + "But Yudhishthira, holding fixed his eyes,-- + That changeless, faithful, all-wise king,--replied: + 'Yea, but he erred. The godlike form he wore + Beguiled him to believe none like to him, + And he alone desirable, and things + Unlovely to be slighted. Self-love slays + Our noble brother. Bhima, follow! Each + Pays what his debt was.' + + "Which Arjuna heard, + Weeping to see them fall; and that stout son + Of Pandu, that destroyer of his foes, + That prince, who drove through crimson waves of war, + In old days, with his chariot-steeds of milk, + He, the arch-hero, sank! Beholding this,-- + The yielding of that soul unconquerable, + Fearless, divine, from Sakra's self derived, + Arjuna's,--Bhima cried aloud: 'O king! + This man was surely perfect. Never once, + Not even in slumber when the lips are loosed, + Spake he one word that was not true as truth. + Ah, heart of gold, why art thou broke? O King! + Whence falleth he?' + + "And Yudhishthira said, + Not pausing: 'Once he lied, a lordly lie! + He bragged--our brother--that a single day + Should see him utterly consume, alone, + All those his enemies,--which could not be. + Yet from a great heart sprang the unmeasured speech. + Howbeit, a finished hero should not shame + Himself in such wise, nor his enemy, + If he will faultless fight and blameless die: + This was Arjuna's sin. Follow thou me!' + + "So the king still went on. But Bhima next + Fainted, and stayed upon the way, and sank; + Yet, sinking cried, behind the steadfast prince: + 'Ah, brother, see! I die! Look upon me, + Thy well-beloved! Wherefore falter I, + Who strove to stand?' + + "And Yudhishthira said: + 'More than was well the goodly things of earth + Pleased thee, my pleasant brother! Light the offence, + And large thy virtue; but the o'er-fed flesh + Plumed itself over spirit. Pritha's son, + For this thou failest, who so near didst gain.' + + "Thenceforth alone the long-armed monarch strode, + Not looking back,--nay! not for Bhima's sake,-- + But walking with his face set for the Mount: + And the hound followed him,--only the hound. + + "After the deathly sands, the Mount! and lo! + Sakra shone forth,--the God, filling the earth + And heavens with thunder of his chariot-wheels. + 'Ascend,' he said, 'with me, Pritha's great son!' + But Yudhishthira answered, sore at heart + For those his kinsfolk, fallen on the way: + 'O Thousand-eyed, O Lord of all the Gods, + Give that my brothers come with me, who fell! + Not without them is Swarga sweet to me. + She too, the dear and kind and queenly,--she + Whose perfect virtue Paradise must crown,-- + Grant her to come with us! Dost thou grant this?' + + "The God replied: 'In heaven thou shalt see + Thy kinsmen and the queen--these will attain-- + With Krishna. Grieve no longer for thy dead, + Thou chief of men! their mortal covering stripped, + They have their places; but to thee the gods + Allot an unknown grace: thou shalt go up + Living and in thy form to the immortal homes.' + + "But the king answered: 'O thou Wisest One, + Who know'st what was, and is, and is to be, + Still one more grace! This hound hath ate with me, + Followed me, loved me: must I leave him now?' + + "'Monarch,' spake Indra, 'thou art now as We,-- + Deathless, divine; thou art become a god; + Glory and power and gifts celestial, + And all the joys of heaven are thine for aye: + What hath a beast with these? Leave here thy hound.' + + "Yet Yudhishthira answered: 'O Most High, + O Thousand-eyed and Wisest! can it be + That one exalted should seem pitiless? + Nay, let me lose such glory: for its sake + I would not leave one living thing I loved.' + + "Then sternly Indra spake: 'He is unclean, + And into Swarga such shall enter not. + The Krodhavasha's hand destroys the fruits + Of sacrifice, if dogs defile the fire. + Bethink thee, Dharmaraj, quit now this beast! + That which is seemly is not hard of heart.' + + "Still he replied: ''Tis written that to spurn + A suppliant equals in offence to slay + A twice-born; wherefore, not for Swarga's bliss + Quit I, Mahendra, this poor clinging dog,-- + So without any hope or friend save me, + So wistful, fawning for my faithfulness, + So agonized to die, unless I help + Who among men was called steadfast and just.' + + "Quoth Indra: 'Nay! the altar-flame is foul + Where a dog passeth; angry angels sweep + The ascending smoke aside, and all the fruits + Of offering, and the merit of the prayer + Of him whom a hound toucheth. Leave it here! + He that will enter heaven must enter pure. + Why didst thou quit thy brethren on the way, + Quit Krishna, quit the dear-loved Draupadi, + Attaining, firm and glorious, to this Mount + Through perfect deeds, to linger for a brute? + Hath Yudhishthira vanquished self, to melt + With one poor passion at the door of bliss? + Stay'st thou for this, who didst not stay for them,-- + Draupadi, Bhima?' + + "But the king yet spake: + ''Tis known that none can hurt or help the dead. + They, the delightful ones, who sank and died, + Following my footsteps, could not live again + Though I had turned,--therefore I did not turn; + But could help profit, I had turned to help. + There be four sins, O Sakra, grievous sins: + The first is making suppliants despair, + The second is to slay a nursing wife, + The third is spoiling Brahmans' goods by force, + The fourth is injuring an ancient friend. + These four I deem not direr than the sin, + If one, in coming forth from woe to weal, + Abandon any meanest comrade then.' + + "Straight as he spake, brightly great Indra smiled; + Vanished the hound;--and in its stead stood there + The Lord of Death and Justice, Dharma's self! + Sweet were the words which fell from those dread lips, + Precious the lovely praise: 'O thou true king, + Thou that dost bring to harvest the good seed + Of Pandu's righteousness; thou that hast ruth + As he before, on all which lives!--O Son, + I tried thee in the Dwaita wood, what time + The Yaksha smote them, bringing water; then + Thou prayedst for Nakula's life--tender and just-- + Not Bhima's nor Arjuna's, true to both, + To Madri as to Kunti, to both queens. + Hear thou my word! Because thou didst not mount + This car divine, lest the poor hound be shent + Who looked to thee, lo! there is none in heaven + Shall sit above thee, King!--Bharata's son, + Enter thou now to the eternal joys, + Living and in thy form. Justice and Love + Welcome thee, Monarch! thou shalt throne with us!' + + "Thereat those mightiest Gods, in glorious train, + Mahendra, Dharma,--with bright retinue + Of Maruts, Saints, Aswin-Kumaras, Nats, + Spirits and Angels,--bore the king aloft, + The thundering chariot first, and after it + Those airy-moving Presences. Serene, + Clad in great glory, potent, wonderful, + They glide at will,--at will they know and see, + At wish their wills are wrought; for these are pure, + Passionless, hallowed, perfect, free of earth, + In such celestial midst the Pandu king + Soared upward; and a sweet light filled the sky + And fell on earth, cast by his face and form, + Transfigured as he rose; and there was heard + The voice of Narad,--it is he who sings, + Sitting in heaven, the deeds that good men do + In all the quarters,--Narad, chief of bards, + Narad the wise, who laudeth purity,-- + So cried he: 'Thou art risen, unmatched king, + Whose greatness is above all royal saints. + Hail, son of Pandu! like to thee is none + Now or before among the sons of men, + Whose fame hath filled the three wide worlds, who com'st + Bearing thy mortal body, which doth shine + With radiance as a god's.' + + "The glad king heard + Narad's loud praise; he saw the immortal gods,-- + Dharma, Mahendra; and dead chiefs and saints, + Known upon earth, in blessed heaven he saw; + But only those. 'I do desire,' he said, + 'That region, be it of the Blest as this, + Or of the Sorrowful some otherwhere, + Where my dear brothers are, and Draupadi. + I cannot stay elsewhere! I see them not!' + + "Then answer made Purandara, the God: + 'O thou compassionate and noblest One, + Rest in the pleasures which thy deeds have gained. + How, being as are the Gods, canst thou live bound + By mortal chains? Thou art become of Us, + Who live above hatred and love, in bliss + Pinnacled, safe, supreme. Sun of thy race. + Thy brothers cannot reach where thou hast climbed: + Most glorious lord of men, let not thy peace + Be touched by stir of earth! Look! this is Heaven. + See where the saints sit, and the happy souls, + Siddhas and angels, and the gods who live + For ever and for ever.' + + "'King of gods,' + Spake Yudhishthira, 'but I will not live + A little space without those souls I loved. + O Slayer of the demons! let me go + Where Bhima and my brothers are, and she, + My Draupadi, the princess with the face + Softer and darker than the Vrihat-leaf, + And soul as sweet as are its odours. Lo! + Where they have gone, there will I surely go,'" + + + + +_THE ILIAD OF INDIA._ + +THE SWARGAROHANA PARVA OF THE MAHABHARATA; OR, "THE ENTRY INTO +HEAVEN." + + + _To Narayen, Lord of lords, be glory given, + To Queen Saraswati be praise in heaven; + Unto Vyasa pay the reverence due,-- + So may this story its high course pursue._ + + Then Janmejaya said: "I am fain to learn + How it befell with my great forefathers, + The Pandu chiefs and Dhritarashtra's sons, + Being to heaven ascended. If thou know'st,-- + And thou know'st all, whom wise Vyasa taught-- + Tell me, how fared it with those mighty souls?" + + Answered the Sage: "Hear of thy forefathers-- + Great Yudhishthira and the Pandu lords-- + How it befell. When thus the blameless king + Was entered into heaven, there he beheld + Duryodhana, his foe, throned as a god + Amid the gods; splendidly sate that prince, + Peaceful and proud, the radiance of his brows + Far-shining like the sun's; and round him thronged + Spirits of light, with Sadhyas,--companies + Goodly to see. But when the king beheld + Duryodhana in bliss, and not his own,-- + Not Draupadi, nor Bhima, nor the rest,-- + With quick-averted face and angry eyes + The monarch spake: 'Keep heaven for such as these + If these come here! I do not wish to dwell + Where he is, whom I hated rightfully, + Being a covetous and witless prince, + Whose deed it was that in wild fields of war + Brothers and friends by mutual slaughter fell, + While our swords smote, sharpened so wrathfully + By all those wrongs borne wandering in the woods: + But Draupadi's the deepest wrong, for he-- + He who sits there--haled her before the court, + Seizing that sweet and virtuous lady--he!-- + With grievous hand wound in her tresses. Gods, + I cannot look upon him! Sith 'tis so, + Where are my brothers? Thither will I go!' + + "Smiling, bright Narada, the Sage, replied: + 'Speak thou not rashly! Say not this, O King! + Those who come here lay enmities aside. + O Yudhishthira, long-armed monarch, hear! + Duryodhana is cleansed of sin; he sits + Worshipful as the saints, worshipped by saints + And kings who lived and died in virtue's path, + Attaining to the joys which heroes gain + Who yield their breath in battle. Even so + He that did wrong thee, knowing not thy worth, + Hath won before thee hither, raised to bliss + For lordliness, and valour free of fear. + Ah, well-beloved Prince! ponder thou not + The memory of that gaming, nor the griefs + Of Draupadi, nor any vanished hurt + Wrought in the passing shows of life by craft + Or wasteful war. Throne happy at the side + Of this thy happy foeman,--wiser now; + For here is Paradise, thou chief of men! + And in its holy air hatreds are dead.' + + "Thus by such lips addressed the Pandu king + Answered uncomforted: 'Duryodhana, + If he attains, attains; yet not the less + Evil he lived and ill he died,--a heart + Impious and harmful, bringing woes to all, + To friends and foes. His was the crime which cost + Our land its warriors, horses, elephants; + His the black sin that set us in the field, + Burning for rightful vengeance. Ye are gods, + And just; and ye have granted heaven to him. + Show me the regions, therefore, where they dwell, + My brothers, those, the noble-souled, the loyal, + Who kept the sacred laws, who swerved no step + From virtue's path, who spake the truth, and lived + Foremost of warriors. Where is Kunti's son, + The hero-hearted Karna? Where are gone + Satyaki, Dhrishtadyumna, with their sons? + And where those famous chiefs who fought for me. + Dying a splendid death? I see them not. + O Narada, I see them not! No King + Draupada! no Virata! no glad face + Of Dhrisktaketu! no Shikandina, + Prince of Panchala, nor his princely boys! + Nor Abhimanyu the unconquerable! + President Gods of heaven! I see not here + Radha's bright son, nor Yudhamanyu, + Nor Uttamanjaso, his brother dear! + Where are those noble Maharashtra lords, + Rajahs and rajpoots, slain for love of me? + Dwell they in glory elsewhere, not yet seen? + If they be here, high Gods! and those with them + For whose sweet sakes I lived, here will I live, + Meek-hearted; but if such be not adjudged + Worthy, I am not worthy, nor my soul + Willing to rest without them. Ah, I burn, + Now in glad heaven, with grief, bethinking me + Of those my mother's words, what time I poured + Death-water for my dead at Kurkshetra,-- + "Pour for Prince Karna, Son!" but I wist not + His feet were as my mother's feet, his blood + Her blood, my blood. O Gods! I did not know,-- + Albeit Sakra's self had failed to break + Our battle, where _he_ stood. I crave to see + Surya's child, that glorious chief who fell + By Saryasachi's hand, unknown of me; + And Bhima! ah, my Bhima! dearer far + Than life to me; Arjuna, like a god, + Nakla and Sahadev, twin lords of war, + With tenderest Draupadi! Show me those souls! + I cannot tarry where I have them not. + Bliss is not blissful, just and mighty Ones! + Save if I rest beside them. Heaven is there + Where Love and Faith make heaven. Let me go!' + + "And answer made the hearkening heavenly Ones: + 'Go, if it seemeth good to thee, dear Son! + The King of gods commands we do thy will.'" + + So saying [the Bard went on] Dharma's own voice + Gave ordinance, and from the shining bands + A golden Deva glided, taking hest + To guide the king there where his kinsmen were. + So wended these, the holy angel first, + And in his steps the king, close following. + Together passed they through the gates of pearl, + Together heard them close; then to the left + Descending, by a path evil and dark, + Hard to be traversed, rugged, entered they + The 'SINNERS' ROAD.' The tread of sinful feet + Matted the thick thorns carpeting its slope; + The smell of sin hung foul on them; the mire + About their roots was trampled filth of flesh + Horrid with rottenness, and splashed with gore + Curdling in crimson puddles; where there buzzed + And sucked and settled creatures of the swamp, + Hideous in wing and sting, gnat-clouds and flies, + With moths, toads, newts, and snakes red-gulleted, + And livid, loathsome worms, writhing in slime + Forth from skull-holes and scalps and tumbled bones. + A burning forest shut the roadside in + On either hand, and 'mid its crackling boughs + Perched ghastly birds, or flapped amongst the flames,-- + Vultures and kites and crows,--with brazen plumes + And beaks of iron; and these grisly fowl + Screamed to the shrieks of Prets, lean, famished ghosts, + Featureless, eyeless, having pin-point mouths, + Hungering, but hard to fill,--all swooping down + To gorge upon the meat of wicked ones; + Whereof the limbs disparted, trunks and heads, + Offal and marrow, littered all the way. + By such a path the king passed, sore afeared + If he had known of fear, for the air stank + With carrion stench, sickly to breathe; and lo! + Presently 'thwart the pathway foamed a flood + Of boiling waves, rolling down corpses. This + They crossed, and then the Asipatra wood + Spread black in sight, whereof the undergrowth + Was sword-blades, spitting, every blade, some wretch; + All around poison trees; and next to this, + Strewn deep with fiery sands, an awful waste, + Wherethrough the wicked toiled with blistering feet, + 'Midst rocks of brass, red hot, which scorched, and pools + Of bubbling pitch that gulfed them. Last the gorge + Of Kutashala Mali,--frightful gate + Of utmost Hell, with utmost horrors filled. + Deadly and nameless were the plagues seen there; + Which when the monarch reached, nigh overborne + By terrors and the reek of tortured flesh, + Unto the angel spake he: 'Whither goes + This hateful road, and where be they I seek, + Yet find not?' Answer made the heavenly One: + 'Hither, great King, it was commanded me + To bring thy steps. If thou be'st overborne, + It is commanded that I lead thee back + To where the Gods wait. Wilt thou turn and mount?' + + "Then (O thou Son of Bharat!) Yudhishthir + Turned heavenward his face, so was he moved + With horror and the hanging stench, and spent + By toil of that black travel. But his feet + Scarce one stride measured, when about the place + Pitiful accents rang: 'Alas, sweet King!-- + Ah, saintly Lord!--Ah, Thou that hast attained + Place with the Blessed, Pandu's offspring!--pause + A little while, for love of us who cry! + Nought can harm _thee_ in all this baneful place; + But at thy coming there 'gan blow a breeze + Balmy and soothing, bringing us relief. + O Pritha's son, mightiest of men! we breathe + Glad breath again to see thee; we have peace + One moment in our agonies. Stay here + One moment more, Bharata's child! Go not, + Thou Victor of the Kurus! Being here, + Hell softens and our bitter pains relax.' + + "These pleadings, wailing all around the place, + Heard the King Yudhishthira,--words of woe + Humble and eager; and compassion seized + His lordly mind. 'Poor souls unknown!' he sighed, + And hellwards turned anew; for what those were. + Whence such beseeching voices, and of whom, + That son of Pandu wist not,--only wist + That all the noxious murk was filled with forms, + Shadowy, in anguish, crying grace of him. + Wherefore he called aloud,'Who speaks with me? + What do ye here, and what things suffer ye?' + Then from the black depth piteously there came + Answers of whispered suffering: 'Karna I, + O King!' and yet another,'O my Liege, + Thy Bhima speaks!' and then a voice again, + 'I am Arjuna, Brother!' and again, + 'Nakla is here and Sahadev!' and last + A moan of music from the darkness sighed, + 'Draupadi cries to thee!' Thereat broke forth + The monarch's spirit,--knowing so the sound + Of each familiar voice,--'What doom is this? + What have my well-beloved wrought to earn + Death with the damned, or life loathlier than death + In Narak's midst? Hath Karna erred so deep, + Bhima, Arjuna, or the glorious twins, + Or she, the slender-waisted, sweetest, best, + My princess,--that Duryodhana should sit + Peaceful in Paradise with all his crew, + Throned by Mahendra and the shining gods? + How should these fail of bliss, and he attain? + What were their sins to his, their splendid faults? + For if they slipped, it was in virtue's way + Serving good laws, performing holy rites, + Boundless in gifts and faithful to the death. + These be their well-known voices! Are ye here, + Souls I loved best? Dream I, belike, asleep, + Or rave I, maddened with accursed sights + And death-reeks of this hellish air?' + + "Thereat + For pity and for pain the king waxed wroth. + That soul fear could not shake, nor trials tire, + Burned terrible with tenderness, the while + His eyes searched all the gloom, his planted feet + Stood fast in the mid horrors. Well-nigh, then, + He cursed the gods; well-nigh that steadfast mind + Broke from its faith in virtue. But he stayed + Th' indignant passion, softly speaking this + Unto the angel: 'Go to those thou serv'st; + Tell them I come not thither. Say I stand + Here in the throat of hell, and here will bide-- + Nay, if I perish--while my well-belov'd + Win ease and peace by any pains of mine.' + + "Whereupon, nought replied the shining One, + But straight repaired unto the upper light, + Where Sakra sate above the gods, and spake + Before the gods the message of the king." + + * * * * * + + "Afterward what befell?" the prince inquired. + + "Afterward, Princely One!" replied the Sage, + "At hearing and at knowing that high deed + (Great Yudhishthira braving hell for love), + The Presences of Paradise uprose, + Each Splendour in his place,--god Sakra chief; + Together rose they, and together stepped + Down from their thrones, treading the nether road + Where Yudhishthira tarried. Sakra led + The shining van, and Dharma, Lord of laws, + Paced glorious next. O Son of Bharata, + While that celestial company came down-- + Pure as the white stars sweeping through the sky, + And brighter than their brilliance--look! Hell's shades + Melted before them; warm gleams drowned the gloom; + Soft, lovely scenes rolled over the ill sights; + Peace calmed the cries of torment; in its bed + The boiling river shrank, quiet and clear; + The Asipatra Vana--awful wood-- + Blossomed with colours; all those cruel blades, + And dreadful rocks, and piteous scattered wreck + Of writhing bodies, where the king had passed, + Vanished as dreams fade. Cool and fragrant went + A wind before their faces, as these Gods + Drew radiant to the presence of the king,-- + Maruts; and Vasus eight, who shine and serve + Round Indra; Rudras; Aswins; and those Six + Immortal Lords of light beyond our light, + Th' Adityas; Saddhyas; Siddhas,--those were there, + With angels, saints, and habitants of heaven, + Smiling resplendent round the steadfast prince. + + "Then spake the God of gods these gracious words + To Yudhishthira, standing in that place:-- + "'King Yudhishthira! O thou long-armed Lord, + This is enough! All heaven is glad of thee. + It is enough! Come, thou most blessed one. + Unto thy peace, well-gained. Lay now aside + Thy loving wrath, and hear the speech of Heaven. + It is appointed that all kings see hell. + The reckonings for the life of men are twain: + Of each man's righteous deeds a tally true, + A tally true of each man's evil deeds. + Who hath wrought little right, to him is paid + A little bliss in Swarga, then the woe + Which purges; who much right hath wrought, from him + The little ill by lighter pains is cleansed, + And then the joys. Sweet is peace after pain, + And bitter pain which follows peace; yet they, + Who sorely sin, taste of the heaven they miss, + And they that suffer quit their debt at last. + Lo! We have loved thee, laying hard on thee + Grievous assaults of soul, and this black road. + Bethink thee: by a semblance once, dear Son! + Drona thou didst beguile; and once, dear Son! + Semblance of hell hath so thy sin assoiled, + "Which passeth with these shadows. Even thus + Thy Bhima came a little space t' account, + Draupadi, Krishna,--all whom thou didst love, + Never again to lose! Come, First of Men! + These be delivered and their quittance made. + Also the princes, son of Bharata! + Who fell beside thee fighting, have attained. + Come thou to see! Karna, whom thou didst mourn,-- + That mightiest archer, master in all wars,-- + He hath attained, shining as doth the sun; + Come thou and see! Grieve no more, King of Men! + Whose love helped them and thee, and hath its meed. + Rajas and maharajahs, warriors, aids,-- + All thine are thine for ever. Krishna waits + To greet thee coming, 'companied by gods, + Seated in heaven, from toils and conflicts saved. + Son! there is golden fruit of noble deeds, + Of prayer, alms, sacrifice. The most just Gods + Keep thee thy place above the highest saints, + Where thou shalt sit, divine, compassed about + With royal souls in bliss, as Hari sits; + Seeing Mandhata crowned, and Bhagirath, + Daushyanti, Bharata, with all thy line. + Now therefore wash thee in this holy stream, + Gunga's pure fount, whereof the bright waves bless + All the Three Worlds. It will so change thy flesh + To likeness of th' immortal, thou shalt leave + Passions and aches and tears behind thee there.' + + "And when the awful Sakra thus had said, + Lo! Dharma spake,--th' embodied Lord of Right: + + "'Bho! bho! I am well pleased! Hail to thee, Chief! + Worthy, and wise, and firm. Thy faith is full, + Thy virtue, and thy patience, and thy truth, + And thy self-mastery. Thrice I put thee, King! + Unto the trial. In the Dwaita wood, + The day of sacrifice,--then thou stood'st fast; + Next, on thy brethren's death and Draupadi's, + When, as a dog, I followed thee, and found + Thy spirit constant to the meanest friend. + Here was the third and sorest touchstone, Son! + That thou shouldst hear thy brothers cry in hell, + And yet abide to help them. Pritha's child, + We love thee! Thou art fortunate and pure, + Past trials now. Thou art approved, and they + Thou lov'st have tasted hell only a space, + Not meriting to suffer more than when + An evil dream doth come, and Indra's beam + Ends it with radiance--as this vision ends. + It is appointed that all flesh see death, + And therefore thou hast borne the passing pangs, + Briefest for thee, and brief for those of thine,-- + Bhima the faithful, and the valiant twins + Nakla and Sahadev, and those great hearts + Karna, Arjuna, with thy princess dear, + Draupadi. Come, thou best-beloved Son, + Blessed of all thy line! Bathe in this stream,-- + It is great Gunga, flowing through Three Worlds.' + + "Thus high-accosted, the rejoicing king + (Thy ancestor, O Liege!) proceeded straight + Unto that river's brink, which floweth pure + Through the Three Worlds, mighty, and sweet, and praised. + There, being bathed, the body of the king + Put off its mortal, coming up arrayed + In grace celestial, washed from soils of sin, + From passion, pain, and change. So, hand in hand + With brother-gods, glorious went Yudhishthir, + Lauded by softest minstrelsy, and songs + Of unknown music, where those heroes stood-- + The princes of the Pandavas, his kin-- + And lotus-eyed and lovliest Draupadi, + Waiting to greet him, gladdening and glad." + + + + +_FROM THE "SAUPTIKA PARVA" OF THE MAHABHARATA,_ + +OR + +_"NIGHT OF SLAUGHTER."_ + + + _To Narayen, Best of Lords, be glory given, + To great Saraswati, the Queen in Heaven; + Unto Vyasa, too, be paid his meed, + So shall this story worthily proceed._ + + "Those vanquished warriors then," Sanjaya said, + "Fled southwards; and, near sunset, past the tents, + Unyoked; abiding close in fear and rage. + There was a wood beyond the camp,--untrod, + Quiet,--and in its leafy harbour lay + The Princes, some among them bleeding still + From spear and arrow-gashes; all sore-spent, + Fetching faint breath, and fighting o'er again + In thought that battle. But there came the noise + Of Pandavas pursuing,--fierce and loud + Outcries of victory--whereat those chiefs + Sullenly rose, and yoked their steeds again, + Driving due east; and eastward still they drave + Under the night, till drouth and desperate toil + Stayed horse and man; then took they lair again, + The panting horses, and the Warriors, wroth + With chilled wounds, and the death-stroke of their King. + + "Now were they come, my Prince," Sanjaya said, + "Unto a jungle thick with stems, whereon + The tangled creepers coiled; here entered they-- + Watering their horses at a stream--and pushed + Deep in the thicket. Many a beast and bird + Sprang startled at their feet; the long grass stirred + With serpents creeping off; the woodland flowers + Shook where the pea-fowl hid, and, where frogs plunged, + The swamp rocked all its reeds and lotus-buds. + A banian-tree, with countless dropping boughs + Earth-rooted, spied they, and beneath its aisles + A pool; hereby they stayed, tethering their steeds, + And dipping water, made the evening prayer. + + "But when the 'Day-maker' sank in the west + And Night descended--gentle, soothing Night, + Who comforts all, with silver splendour decked + Of stars and constellations, and soft folds + Of velvet darkness drawn--then those wild things + Which roam in darkness woke, wandering afoot + Under the gloom. Horrid the forest grew + With roar, and yelp, and yell, around that place + Where Kripa, Kritavarman, and the son + Of Drona lay, beneath the banian-tree; + Full many a piteous passage instancing + In their lost battle-day of dreadful blood; + Till sleep fell heavy on the wearied lids + Of Bhoja's child and Kripa. Then these Lords-- + To princely life and silken couches used-- + Sought on the bare earth slumber, spent and sad, + As houseless outcasts lodge. + + "But, Oh, my King! + There came no sleep to Drona's angry son, + Great Aswatthaman. As a snake lies coiled + And hisses, breathing, so his panting breath + Hissed rage and hatred round him, while he lay, + Chin uppermost, arm-pillowed, with fierce eyes + Roving the wood, and seeing sightlessly. + Thus chanced it that his wandering glances turned + Into the fig-tree's shadows, where there perched + A thousand crows, thick-roosting, on its limbs; + Some nested, some on branchlets, deep asleep, + Heads under wings--all fearless; nor, O Prince! + Had Aswatthaman more than marked the birds, + When, lo! there fell out of the velvet night, + Silent and terrible, an eagle-owl, + With wide, soft, deadly, dusky wings, and eyes + Flame-coloured, and long claws, and dreadful beak; + Like a winged sprite, or great Garood himself; + Offspring of Bharata! it lighted there + Upon the banian's bough; hooted, but low, + The fury smothering in its throat;--then fell + With murderous beak and claws upon those crows, + Rending the wings from this, the legs from that, + From some the heads, of some ripping the crops; + Till, tens and scores, the fowl rained down to earth + Bloody and plucked, and all the ground waxed black + With piled crow-carcases; whilst the great owl + Hooted for joy of vengeance, and again + Spread the wide, deadly, dusky wings. + + "Up sprang + The son of Drona: 'Lo! this owl,' quoth he, + 'Teacheth me wisdom; lo! one slayeth so + Insolent foes asleep. The Pandu Lords + Are all too strong in arms by day to kill; + They triumph, being many. Yet I swore + Before the King, my Father, I would "kill" + And "kill"--even as a foolish fly should swear + To quench a flame. It scorched, and I shall die + If I dare open battle; but by art + Men vanquish fortune and the mightiest odds. + If there be two ways to a wise man's wish, + Yet only one way sure, he taketh this; + And if it be an evil way, condemned + For Brahmans, yet the Kshattriya may do + What vengeance bids against his foes. Our foes, + The Pandavas, are furious, treacherous, base, + Halting at nothing; and how say the wise + In holy Shastras?--"Wounded, wearied, fed, + Or fasting; sleeping, waking, setting forth, + Or new arriving; slay thine enemies;" + And so again, "At midnight when they sleep, + Dawn when they watch not; noon if leaders fall; + Eve, should they scatter; all the times and hours + Are times and hours fitted for killing foes."' + + "So did the son of Drona steel his soul + To break upon the sleeping Pandu chiefs + And slay them in the darkness. Being set + On this unlordly deed, and clear in scheme, + He from their slumbers roused the warriors twain, + Kripa and Kritavarman." + + + + +_THE MORNING PRAYER._ + + + Our Lord the Prophet (peace to him!) doth write-- + Surah the Seventeenth, intituled "Night"-- + "Pray at the noon; pray at the sinking sun; + In night-time pray; but most when night is done; + For daybreak's prayer is surely borne on high + By angels, changing guard within the sky;" + And in another place:--"Dawn's prayer is more + Than the wide world, with all its treasured store." + + Therefore the Faithful, when the growing light + Gives to discern a black hair from a white, + Haste to the mosque, and, bending Mecca-way, + Recite _Al-Fatihah_ while 'tis scarce yet day: + "_Praise be to Allah--Lord of all that live: + Merciful King and Judge! To Thee we give + Worship and honour! Succour us, and guide + Where those have walked who rest Thy throne beside: + The way of Peace; the way of truthful speech; + The way of Righteousness. So we beseech._" + He that saith this, before the East is red, + A hundred prayers of Azan hath he said. + + Hear now a story of it--told, I ween, + For your souls' comfort by Jelal-ud-din, + In the great pages of the Mesnevi; + For therein, plain and certain, shall ye see + How precious is the prayer at break of day + In Allah's ears, and in his sight alway + How sweet are reverence and gentleness + Shown to his creatures. Ali (whom I bless!) + The son of Abu Talib--he surnamed + "Lion of God," in many battles famed, + The cousin of our Lord the Prophet (grace + Be his!)--uprose betimes one morn, to pace-- + As he was wont--unto the mosque, wherein + Our Lord (bliss live with him!) watched to begin + _Al-Fatihah_. Darkling was the sky, and strait + The lane between the city and mosque-gate, + By rough stones broken and deep pools of rain; + And there through toilfully, with steps of pain, + Leaning upon his staff an old Jew went + To synagogue, on pious errand bent: + For those be "People of the Book,"--and some + Are chosen of Allah's will, who have not come + Unto full light of wisdom. Therefore he + Ali--the Caliph of proud days to be-- + Knowing this good old man, and why he stirred + Thus early, e'er the morning mills were heard, + Out of his nobleness and grace of soul + Would not thrust past, though the Jew blocked the whole + Breadth of the lane, slow-hobbling. So they went, + That ancient first; and in soft discontent, + After him Ali--noting how the sun + Flared nigh, and fearing prayer might be begun; + Yet no command upraising, no harsh cry + To stand aside;--because the dignity + Of silver hairs is much, and morning praise + Was precious to the Jew, too. Thus their ways + Wended the pair; Great Ali, sad and slow, + Following the greybeard, while the East, a-glow, + Blazed with bright spears of gold athwart the blue, + And the Muezzin's call came "_Illahu! + Allah-il-Allah!_" + + In the mosque, our Lord + (On whom be peace!) stood by the Mehrab-board + In act to bow, and _Fatihah_ forth to say. + But as his lips moved, some strong hand did lay + Over his mouth a palm invisible, + So that no voice on the Assembly fell. + "_Ya! Rabbi 'lalamina_" thrice he tried + To read, and thrice the sound of reading died, + Stayed by this unseen touch. Thereat amazed + Our Lord Muhammed turned, arose, and gazed; + And saw--alone of those within the shrine-- + A splendid Presence, with large eyes divine + Beaming, and golden pinions folded down, + Their speed still tokened by the fluttered gown. + GABRIEL he knew, the spirit who doth stand + Chief of the Sons of Heav'n, at God's right hand: + "Gabriel! why stayest thou me?" the Prophet said, + "Since at this hour the _Fatihah_ should be read." + + But the bright Presence, smiling, pointed where + Ali towards the outer gate drew near, + Upon the threshold shaking off his shoes + And giving "alms of entry," as men use. + "Yea!" spake th' Archangel, "sacred is the sound + Of morning-praise, and worth the world's wide round, + Though earth were pearl and silver; therefore I + Stayed thee, Muhammed, in the act to cry, + Lest Ali, tarrying in the lane, should miss, + For his good deed, its blessing and its bliss." + + Thereat th' Archangel vanished:--and our Lord + Read _Fatihah_ forth beneath the Mehrab-board. + + + + +_PROVERBIAL WISDOM_ + +FROM THE + +_SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA_. + + +DEDICATION + +(_TO FIRST EDITION_) + + + _To you, dear Wife--to whom beside so well?-- + True Counsellor and tried, at every shift, + I bring my "Book of Counsels:" let it tell + Largeness of love by littleness of gift;_ + + _And take this growth of foreign skies from me, + (A scholar's thanks for gentle help in toil,) + Whose leaf, "though dark," like Milton's Hoemony, + "Bears a bright golden flower, if not in this soil."_ + +_April 9, 1861._ + + +PREFACE + +_TO THE "BOOK OF GOOD COUNSELS."_ + + +The _Hitopadesa_ is a work of high antiquity and extended popularity. +The prose is doubtless as old as our own era; but the intercalated +verses and proverbs compose a selection from writings of an age +extremely remote. The _Mahabharata_ and the textual _Veds_ are of +those quoted; to the first of which Professor M. Williams (in his +admirable edition of the _Nala_, 1860) assigns the modest date of 350 +B.C., while he claims for the _Rig-Veda_ an antiquity as high as 1300 +B.C. The _Hitopadesa_ may thus be fairly styled "The Father of all +Fables;" for from its numerous translations have probably come Esop +and Pilpay, and in latter days _Reineke Fuchs_. Originally compiled in +Sanskrit, it was rendered, by order of Nushirvan, in the sixth century +A.D., into Persic. From the Persic it passed, A.D. 850, into the +Arabic, and thence into Hebrew and Greek. In its own land it obtained +as wide a circulation. The Emperor Akbar, impressed with the wisdom of +its maxims and the ingenuity of its apologues, commended the work of +translating it to his own Vizier, Abdul Fazel. That Minister +accordingly put the book into a familiar style, and published it with +explanations, under the title of the _Criterion of Wisdom_. The +Emperor had also suggested the abridgment of the long series of +shlokes which here and there interrupt the narrative, and the Vizier +found this advice sound, and followed it, like the present Translator. +To this day, in India, the _Hitopadesa_, under its own or other names +(as the _Anvari Suhaili_), retains the delighted attention of young +and old, and has some representative in all the Indian vernaculars. A +selection from the metrical Sanskrit proverbs and maxims is here +given. + + +_PROVERBIAL WISDOM_ + +FROM THE + +_SHLOKAS OF THE HITOPADESA._ + + + _This Book of Counsel read, and you shall see, + Fair speech and Sanskrit lore, and Policy._ + + "Wise men, holding wisdom highest, scorn delights, more false than + fair; + Daily live as if Death's fingers twined already in thy hair! + + "Truly, richer than all riches, better than the best of gain, + Wisdom is; unbought, secure--once won, none loseth her again. + + "Bringing dark things into daylight, solving doubts that vex the mind, + Like an open eye is Wisdom--he that hath her not is blind." + + * * * * * + + "Childless art thou? dead thy children? leaving thee to want and doole? + Less thy misery than his is, who lives father to a fool." + + "One wise son makes glad his father, forty fools avail him not: + One moon silvers all that darkness which the silly stars did dot." + + "Ease and health, obeisant children, wisdom, and a fair-voiced wife-- + Thus, great King! are counted up the five felicities of life." + + "For the son the sire is honoured; though the bow-cane bendeth true, + Let the strained string crack in using, and what service shall it do?" + + "That which will not be, will not be--and what is to be, will be: + Why not drink this easy physic, antidote of misery?" + + "Nay! but faint not, idly sighing, 'Destiny is mightiest,' + Sesamum holds oil in plenty, but it yieldeth none unpressed." + + "Ah! it is the Coward's babble, 'Fortune taketh, Fortune gave;' + Fortune! rate her like a master, and she serves thee like a slave." + + "Two-fold is the life we live in--Fate and Will together run: + Two wheels bear life's chariot onward--Will it move on only one?" + + "Look! the clay dries into iron, but the potter moulds the clay: + Destiny to-day is master--Man was master yesterday." + + "Worthy ends come not by wishing. Wouldst thou? Up, and win it, then! + While the hungry lion slumbers, not a deer comes to his den." + + * * * * * + + "Silly glass, in splendid settings, something of the gold may gain; + And in company of wise ones, fools to wisdom may attain." + + "Labours spent on the unworthy, of reward the labourer balk; + Like the parrot, teach the heron twenty words, he will not talk." + + * * * * * + + "Ah! a thousand thoughts of sorrow, and a hundred things of dread, + By the fools unheeded, enter day by day the wise man's head." + + "Of the day's impending dangers, Sickness, Death, and Misery, + One will be; the wise man, waking, ponders which that one will be." + + "Good things come not out of bad things; wisely leave a longed-for ill. + Nectar being mixed with poison serves no purpose but to kill." + + * * * * * + + "Give to poor men, son of Kunti--on the wealthy waste not wealth; + Good are simples for the sick man, good for nought to him in health." + + * * * * * + + "Be his Scripture-learning wondrous, yet the cheat will be a cheat; + Be her pasture ne'er so bitter, yet the cow's milk will taste sweet." + + "Trust not water, trust not weapons; trust not clawed nor horned + things; + Neither give thy soul to women, nor thy life to Sons of Kings." + + * * * * * + + "Look! the Moon, the silver roamer, from whose splendour darkness + flies, + With his starry cohorts marching, like a crowned king, through the + skies: + All his grandeur, all his glory, vanish in the Dragon's jaw; + What is written on the forehead, that will be, and nothing more." + + * * * * * + + "Counsel in danger; of it + Unwarned, be nothing begun; + But nobody asks a Prophet, + Shall the risk of a dinner be run?" + + * * * * * + + "Avarice begetteth anger; blind desires from her begin; + A right fruitful mother is she of a countless spawn of sin." + + * * * * * + + "Be second and not first!--the share's the same + If all go well. If not, the Head's to blame." + + * * * * * + + "Passion will be Slave or Mistress: follow her, she brings to woe; + Lead her, 'tis the way to Fortune. Choose the path that thou wilt go." + + "When the time of trouble cometh, friends may ofttimes irk us most: + For the calf at milking-hour the mother's leg is tying-post." + + * * * * * + + "In good-fortune not elated, in ill-fortune not dismayed, + Ever eloquent in council, never in the fight affrayed, + Proudly emulous of honour, steadfastly on wisdom set; + These six virtues in the nature of a noble soul are met. + Whoso hath them, gem and glory of the three wide worlds is he; + Happy mother she that bore him, she who nursed him on her knee." + + * * * * * + + "Small things wax exceeding mighty, being cunningly combined; + Furious elephants are fastened with a rope of grass-blades twined." + + "Let the household hold together, though the house be ne'er so small; + Strip the rice-husk from the rice-grain, and it groweth not at all." + + "Sickness, anguish, bonds, and woe + Spring from wrongs wrought long ago." + + * * * * * + + "Keep wealth for want, but spend it for thy wife, + And wife, and wealth, and all, to guard thy life." + + * * * * * + + "Death, that must come, comes nobly when we give + Our wealth, and life, and all, to make men live." + + * * * * * + + "Floating on his fearless pinions, lost amid the noonday skies, + Even thence the Eagle's vision kens the carcass where it lies; + But the hour that comes to all things comes unto the Lord of Air, + And he rushes, madly blinded, to die helpless in the snare." + + * * * * * + + Bar thy door not to the stranger, be he friend or be he foe, + For the tree will shade the woodman while his axe doth lay it low. + + Greeting fair, and room to rest in; fire, and water from the well-- + Simple gifts--are given freely in the house where good men dwell;-- + + Young, or bent with many winters; rich, or poor whate'er thy guest, + Honour him for thine own honour--better is he than the best. + + "Pity them that crave thy pity: who art thou to stint thy hoard, + When the holy moon shines equal on the leper and the lord?" + + When thy gate is roughly fastened, and the asker turns away, + Thence he bears thy good deeds with him, and his sins on thee doth lay. + + In the house the husband ruleth; men the Brahman "master" call; + Agni is the Twice-born's Master--but the guest is lord of all. + + "He who does and thinks no wrong-- + He who suffers, being strong-- + He whose harmlessness men know-- + Unto Swarga such doth go." + + * * * * * + + "In the land where no wise men are, men of little wit are lords; + And the castor-oil's a tree, where no tree else its shade affords." + + * * * * * + + "Foe is friend, and friend is foe, + As our actions make them so." + + * * * * * + + "That friend only is the true friend who abides when trouble comes; + That man only is the brave man who can bear the battle-drums; + Words are wind; deed proveth promise: he who helps at need is kin; + And the leal wife is loving though the husband lose or win." + + "Friend and kinsman--more their meaning than the idle-hearted mind; + Many a friend can prove unfriendly, many a kinsman less than kind: + He who shares his comrade's portion, be he beggar, be he lord, + Comes as truly, comes as duly, to the battle as the board-- + Stands before the king to succour, follows to the pile to sigh-- + He is friend, and he is kinsman; less would make the name a lie." + + * * * * * + + "Stars gleam, lamps flicker, friends foretell of fate; + The fated sees, knows, hears them--all too late." + + * * * * * + + "Absent, flatterers' tongues are daggers--present, softer than the + silk; + Shun them! 'tis a draught of poison hidden under harmless milk; + Shun them when they promise little! Shun them when they promise much! + For enkindled, charcoal burneth--cold, it doth defile the touch." + + * * * * * + + "In years, or moons, or half-moons three, + Or in three days--suddenly, + Knaves are shent--true men go free." + + * * * * * + + "Anger comes to noble natures, but leaves there no strife or storm: + Plunge a lighted torch beneath it, and the ocean grows not warm." + + "Noble hearts are golden vases--close the bond true metals make; + Easily the smith may weld them, harder far it is to break. + Evil hearts are earthen vessels--at a touch they crack a-twain, + And what craftsman's ready cunning can unite the shards again?" + + "Good men's friendships may be broken, yet abide they friends at heart; + Snap the stem of Luxmee's lotus, but its fibres will not part." + + * * * * * + + "One foot goes, and one foot stands, + When the wise man leaves his lands." + + * * * * * + + "Over-love of home were weakness; wheresoe'er the hero come, + Stalwart arm and steadfast spirit find or make for him a home. + Little recks the awless lion where his hunting jungles lie-- + When he enters them be certain that a royal prey shall die." + + * * * * * + + "Very feeble folk are poor folk; money lost takes wit away: + All their doings fail like runnels, wasting through the summer day." + + "Wealth is friends, home, father, brother--title to respect and fame; + Yea, and wealth is held for wisdom--that it should be so is shame." + + "Home is empty to the childless; hearts to those who friends deplore: + Earth unto the idle-minded; and the three worlds to the poor." + + "Say the sages, nine things name not: Age, domestic joys and woes, + Counsel, sickness, shame, alms, penance; neither Poverty disclose. + Better for the proud of spirit, death, than life with losses told; + Fire consents to be extinguished, but submits riot to be cold." + + "As Age doth banish beauty, + As moonlight dies in gloom, + As Slavery's menial duty + Is Honour's certain tomb; + + As Hari's name and Hara's + Spoken, charm sin away, + So Poverty can surely + A hundred virtues slay." + + "Half-known knowledge, present pleasure purchased with a future woe, + And to taste the salt of service--greater griefs no man can know." + + "All existence is not equal, and all living is not life; + Sick men live; and he who, banished, pines for children, home, and + wife; + And the craven-hearted eater of another's leavings lives, + And the wretched captive, waiting for the word of doom, survives; + But they bear an anguished body, and they draw a deadly breath; + And life cometh to them only on the happy day of death." + + "Golden gift, serene Contentment! have thou that, and all is had; + Thrust thy slipper on, and think thee that the earth is leather-clad." + + "All is known, digested, tested; nothing new is left to learn + When the soul, serene, reliant, Hope's delusive dreams can spurn." + + "Hast thou never watched, awaiting till the great man's door unbarred? + Didst thou never linger parting, saying many a sad last word? + Spak'st thou never word of folly, one light thing thou would'st recall? + Rare and noble hath thy life been! fair thy fortune did befall!" + + * * * * * + + "True Religion!--'tis not blindly prating what the gurus prate, + But to love, as God hath loved them, all things, be they small or + great; + And true bliss is when a sane mind doth a healthy body fill; + And true knowledge is the knowing what is good and what is ill." + + * * * * * + + "Poisonous though the tree of life be, two fair blossoms grow thereon: + One, the company of good men; and sweet songs of Poets, one." + + * * * * * + + "Give, and it shall swell thy getting; give, and thou shalt safer keep: + Pierce the tank-wall; or it yieldeth, when the water waxeth deep." + + "When the miser hides his treasure in the earth, he doeth well; + For he opens up a passage that his soul may sink to hell." + + "He whose coins are kept for counting, not to barter nor to give, + Breathe he like a blacksmith's bellows, yet in truth he doth not live." + + "Gifts, bestowed with words of kindness, making giving doubly dear: + Wisdom, deep, complete, benignant, of all arrogancy clear; + Valour, never yet forgetful of sweet Mercy's pleading prayer; + Wealth, and scorn of wealth to spend it--oh! but these be virtues + rare!" + + * * * * * + + "Sentences of studied wisdom, nought avail they unapplied; + Though the blind man hold a lantern, yet his footsteps stray aside." + + * * * * * + + "Would'st thou, know whose happy dwelling Fortune entereth unknown? + His, who careless of her favour, standeth fearless in his own; + His, who for the vague to-morrow barters not the sure to-day-- + Master of himself, and sternly steadfast to the rightful way: + Very mindful of past service, valiant, faithful, true of heart-- + Unto such comes Lakshmi smiling--comes, and will not lightly part." + + * * * * * + + "Be not haughty, being wealthy; droop not, having lost thine all; + Fate doth play with mortal fortunes as a girl doth toss her ball." + + "Worldly friendships, fair but fleeting; shadows of the clouds at noon; + Women, youth, new corn, and riches; these be pleasures passing soon." + + * * * * * + + "For thy bread be not o'er thoughtful--Heav'n for all hath taken + thought: + When the babe is born, the sweet milk to the mother's breast is + brought. + + "He who gave the swan her silver, and the hawk her plumes of pride, + And his purples to the peacock--He will verily provide." + + "Though for good ends, waste not on wealth a minute; + Mud may be wiped, but wise men plunge not in it." + + * * * * * + + "Brunettes, and the Banyan's shadow, + Well-springs, and a brick-built wall, + Are all alike cool in the summer, + And warm in the winter--all." + + * * * * * + + "Ah! the gleaming, glancing arrows of a lovely woman's eye! + Feathered with her jetty lashes, perilous they pass thee by: + Loosed at venture from the black bows of her arching brow, they part, + All too penetrant and deadly for an undefended heart." + + * * * * * + + "Beautiful the Koil seemeth for the sweetness of his song, + Beautiful the world esteemeth pious souls for patience strong; + Homely features lack not favour when true wisdom they reveal, + And a wife is fair and honoured while her heart is firm and leal." + + * * * * * + + "Friend! gracious word!--the heart to tell is ill able + Whence came to men this jewel of a syllable." + + * * * * * + + "Whoso for greater quits small gain, + Shall have his labour for his pain; + The things unwon unwon remain, + And what was won is lost again." + + * * * * * + + "Looking down on lives below them, men of little store are great; + Looking up to higher fortunes, hard to each man seems his fate." + + "As a bride, unwisely wedded, shuns the cold caress of eld, + So, from coward souls and slothful, Lakshmi's favours turn repelled." + + "Ease, ill-health, home-keeping, sleeping, woman-service, and content-- + In the path that leads to greatness these be six obstructions sent." + + "Seeing how the soorma wasteth, seeing how the ant-hill grows, + Little adding unto little--live, give, learn, as life-time, goes." + + "Drops of water falling, falling, falling, brim the chatty o'er; + Wisdom comes in little lessons--little gains make largest store." + + "Men their cunning schemes may spin-- + God knows who shall lose or win." + + * * * * * + + "Shoot a hundred shafts, the quarry lives and flies--not due to death; + When his hour is come, a grass-blade hath a point to stop his breath." + + "Robes were none, nor oil of unction, when the King of Beasts was + crowned: + 'Twas his own fierce roar proclaimed him, rolling all the kingdom + round." + + * * * * * + + "What but for their vassals, + Elephant and man-- + Swing of golden tassels, + Wave of silken fan-- + But for regal manner + That the 'Chattra' brings, + Horse, and foot, and banner-- + What would come of kings?" + + * * * * * + + "At the work-time, asking wages--is it like a faithful herd? + When the work's done, grudging wages--is _that_ acting like a lord?" + + "Serve the Sun with sweat of body; starve thy maw to feed the flame; + Stead thy lord with all thy service; to thy death go, quit of blame." + + "Many prayers for him are uttered whereon many a life relies; + 'Tis but one poor fool the fewer when the greedy jack-daw dies." + + * * * * * + + "Give thy Dog the merest mouthful, and he crouches at thy feet, + Wags his tail, and fawns, and grovels, in his eagerness to eat; + Bid the Elephant be feeding, and the best of fodder bring; + Gravely--after much entreaty--condescends that mighty king." + + * * * * * + + "By their own deeds men go downward, by them men mount upward all, + Like the diggers of a well, and like the builders of a wall." + + * * * * * + + "Rushes down the hill the crag, which upward 'twas so hard to roll: + So to virtue slowly rises--so to vice quick sinks the soul." + + "Who speaks unasked, or comes unbid, + Or counts on service--will be chid." + + * * * * * + + "Wise, modest, constant, ever close at hand, + Not weighing but obeying all command, + Such servant by a Monarch's throne may stand." + + * * * * * + + "Pitiful, who fearing failure, therefore no beginning makes, + Why forswear a daily dinner for the chance of stomach-aches?" + + * * * * * + + "Nearest to the King is dearest, be thy merit low or high; + Women, creeping plants, and princes, twine round that which groweth + nigh." + + * * * * * + + "Pearls are dull in leaden settings, but the setter is to blame; + Glass will glitter like the ruby, dulled with dust--are they the same?" + + "And a fool may tread on jewels, setting in his turban glass; + Yet, at selling, gems are gems, and fardels but for fardels pass." + + * * * * * + + "Horse and weapon, lute and volume, man and woman, gift of speech, + Have their uselessness or uses in the one who owneth each." + + * * * * * + + "Not disparagement nor slander kills the spirit of the brave; + Fling a torch down, upward ever burns the brilliant flame it gave." + + * * * * * + + "Wisdom from the mouth of children be it overpast of none; + What man scorns to walk by lamplight in the absence of the sun?" + + * * * * * + + "Strength serves Reason. Saith the Mahout, when he beats the brazen + drum, + 'Ho! ye elephants, to this work must your mightinesses come.'" + + "Mighty natures war with mighty: when the raging tempests blow, + O'er the green rice harmless pass they, but they lay the palm-trees + low." + + "Narrow-necked to let out little, big of belly to keep much, + As a flagon is--the Vizier of a Sultan should be such." + + * * * * * + + "He who thinks a minute little, like a fool misuses more; + He who counts a cowry nothing, being wealthy, will be poor." + + * * * * * + + "Brahmans, soldiers, these and kinsmen--of the three set none in + charge: + For the Brahman, though you rack him, yields no treasure small or + large; + And the soldier, being trusted, writes his quittance with his sword, + And the kinsman cheats his kindred by the charter of the word; + But a servant old in service, worse than any one is thought, + Who, by long-tried license fearless, knows his master's anger nought." + + * * * * * + + "Never tires the fire of burning, never wearies Death of slaying, + Nor the sea of drinking rivers, nor the bright-eyed of betraying." + + * * * * * + + "From false friends that breed thee strife, + From a house with serpents rife, + Saucy slaves and brawling wife-- + Get thee forth, to save thy life." + + * * * * * + + "Teeth grown loose, and wicked-hearted ministers, and poison trees, + Pluck them by the roots together; 'tis the thing that giveth ease." + + "Long-tried friends are friends to cleave to--never leave thou these + i' the lurch: + What man shuns the fire as sinful for that once it burned a church?" + + "Raise an evil soul to honour, and his evil bents remain; + Bind a cur's tail ne'er so straightly, yet it curleth up again." + + "How, in sooth, should Trust and Honour change the evil nature's root? + Though one watered them with nectar, poison-trees bear deadly fruit." + + "Safe within the husk of silence guard the seed of counsel so + That it break not--being broken, then the seedling will not grow." + + * * * * * + + "Even as one who grasps a serpent, drowning in the bitter sea, + Death to hold and death to loosen--such is life's perplexity." + + * * * * * + + "Woman's love rewards the worthless--kings of knaves exalters be; + Wealth attends the selfish niggard, and the cloud rains on the sea." + + "Many a knave wins fair opinions standing in fair company, + As the sooty soorma pleases, lighted by a brilliant eye." + + "Where the azure lotus blossoms, there the alligators hide; + In the sandal-tree are serpents. Pain and pleasure live allied." + + "Rich the sandal--yet no part is but a vile thing habits there; + Snake and wasp haunt root and blossom; on the boughs sit ape and bear." + + * * * * * + + "As a bracelet of crystal, once broke, is not mended + So the favour of princes, once altered, is ended." + + * * * * * + + "Wrath of kings, and rage of lightning--both be very full of dread; + But one falls on one man only--one strikes many victims dead." + + "All men scorn the soulless coward who his manhood doth forget: + On a lifeless heap of ashes fearlessly the foot is set." + + * * * * * + + "Simple milk, when serpents drink it, straightway into venom turns; + And a fool who heareth counsel all the wisdom of it spurns." + + * * * * * + + "A modest manner fits a maid, + And Patience is a man's adorning; + But brides may kiss, nor do amiss, + And men may draw, at scathe and scorning." + + * * * * * + + "Serving narrow-minded masters dwarfs high natures to their size: + Seen before a convex mirror, elephants do show as mice." + + * * * * * + + "Elephants destroy by touching, snakes with point of tooth beguile; + Kings by favour kill, and traitors murder with a fatal smile." + + "Of the wife the lord is jewel, though no gems upon her beam; + Lacking him, she lacks adornment, howsoe'er her jewels gleam!" + + "Hairs three-lakhs, and half-a-lakh hairs, on a man so many grow-- + And so many years to Swarga shall the true wife surely go!" + + "When the faithful wife, embracing tenderly her husband dead, + Mounts the blazing pyre beside him, as it were a bridal-bed; + Though his sins were twenty thousand, twenty thousand times o'er-told, + She shall bring his soul to splendour, for her love so large and bold." + + * * * * * + + "Counsel unto six ears spoken, unto all is notified + When a King holds consultation, let it be with one beside." + + "Sick men are for skilful leeches--prodigals for poisoning-- + Fools for teachers--and the man who keeps a secret, for a King." + + * * * * * + + "With gift, craft, promise, cause thy foe to yield; + When these have failed thee, challenge him afield." + + * * * * * + + "The subtle wash of waves do smoothly pass, + But lay the tree as lowly as the grass." + + * * * * * + + "Ten true bowmen on a rampart fifty's onset may sustain; + Fortalices keep a country more than armies in the plain." + + "Build it strong, and build it spacious, with an entry and retreat; + Store it well with wood and water, fill its garners full with wheat." + + * * * * * + + "Gems will no man's life sustain; + Best of gold is golden grain." + + "Hard it is to conquer nature: if a dog were made a King, + 'Mid the coronation trumpets he would gnaw his sandal-string." + + * * * * * + + "'Tis no Council where no Sage is--'tis no Sage that fears not Law; + 'Tis no Law which Truth confirms not--'tis no Truth which Fear can + awe." + + * * * * * + + "Though base be the Herald, nor hinder nor let, + For the mouth of a king is he; + The sword may be whet, and the battle set, + But the word of his message goes free." + + "Better few and chosen fighters than of shaven-crowns a host, + For in headlong flight confounded, with the base the brave are lost." + + "Kind is kin, howe'er a stranger--kin unkind is stranger shown; + Sores hurt, though the body breeds them--drugs relieve, though + desert-grown." + + "Betel-nut is bitter, hot, sweet, spicy, binding, alkaline-- + A demulcent--an astringent--foe to evils intestine; + Giving to the breath a fragrance--to the lips a crimson red; + A detergent, and a kindler of Love's flame that lieth dead. + Praise the Gods for the good betel!--these be thirteen virtues given, + Hard to meet in one thing blended, even in their happy heaven." + + * * * * * + + "He is brave whose tongue is silent of the trophies of his sword; + He is great whose quiet bearing marks his greatness well assured." + + "When the Priest, the Leech, the Vizier of a King his flatterers be, + Very soon the King will part with health, and wealth and piety." + + "Merciless, or money-loving, deaf to counsel, false of faith, + Thoughtless, spiritless, or careless, changing course with every + breath, + Or the man who scorns his rival--if a prince should choose a foe, + Ripe for meeting and defeating, certes he would choose him so." + + "By the valorous and unskilful great achievements are not wrought; + Courage, led by careful Prudence, unto highest ends is brought." + + "Grief kills gladness, winter summer, midnight-gloom the light of day, + Kindnesses ingratitude, and pleasant friends drive pain away; + Each ends each, but none of other surer conquerors can be + Than Impolicy of Fortune--of Misfortune Policy." + + "Wisdom answers all who ask her, but a fool she cannot aid; + Blind men in the faithful mirror see not their reflection made." + + * * * * * + + "Where the Gods are, or thy Guru--in the face of Pain and Age, + Cattle, Brahmans, Kings, and Children--reverently curb thy rage." + + "Oh, my Prince! on eight occasions prodigality is none-- + In the solemn sacrificing, at the wedding of a son, + When the glittering treasure given makes the proud invader bleed, + Or its lustre bringeth comfort to the people in their need, + Or when kinsmen are to succour, or a worthy work to end, + Or to do a loved one honour, or to welcome back a friend." + + "Truth, munificence, and valour, are the virtues of a King; + Royalty, devoid of either, sinks to a rejected thing." + + * * * * * + + "Hold thy vantage!--alligators on the land make none afraid; + And the lion's but a jackal who hath left his forest-shade." + + * * * * * + + "The people are the lotus-leaves, their monarch is the sun-- + When he doth sink beneath the waves they vanish every one. + When he doth rise they rise again with bud and blossom rife, + To bask awhile in his warm smile, who is their lord and life." + + "All the cows bring forth are cattle--only now and then is born + An authentic lord of pastures, with his shoulder-scratching horn." + + "When the soldier in the battle lays his life down for his king, + Unto Swarga's perfect glory such a deed his soul shall bring." + + * * * * * + + "'Tis the fool who, meeting trouble, straightway Destiny reviles, + Knowing not his own misdoing brought his own mischance the whiles." + + "'Time-not-come' and 'Quick-at-Peril,' these two fishes 'scaped the + net; + 'What-will-be-will-be,' he perished, by the fishermen beset." + + * * * * * + + "Sex, that tires of being true, + Base and new is brave to you! + Like the jungle-cows ye range, + Changing food for sake of change." + + * * * * * + + "That which will not be will not be, and what is to be will be: + Why not drink this easy physic, antidote of misery?" + + "Whoso trusts, for service rendered, or fair words, an enemy, + Wakes from folly like one falling in his slumber from a tree." + + * * * * * + + "Fellow be with kindly foemen, rather than with friends unkind; + Friend and foeman are distinguished not by title but by mind." + + * * * * * + + "Whoso setting duty highest, speaks at need unwelcome things, + Disregarding fear and favour, such an one may succour kings." + + * * * * * + + "Brahmans for their lore have honour; Kshattriyas for their bravery; + Vaisyas for their hard-earned treasure; Sudras for humility." + + "Seven foemen of all foemen, very hard to vanquish be: + The Truth-teller, the Just-dweller, and the man from passion free. + + "Subtle, self-sustained, and counting frequent well-won victories, + And the man of many kinsmen--keep the peace with such as these." + + "For the man with many kinsmen answers by them all attacks; + As the bambu, in the bambus safely sheltered, scorns the axe." + + * * * * * + + "Whoso hath the gift of giving wisely, equitably, well; + Whoso, learning all men's secrets, unto none his own will tell: + Whoso, ever cold and courtly, utters nothing that offends, + Such an one may rule his fellows unto Earth's extremest ends." + + * * * * * + + "Cheating them that truly trust you, 'tis a clumsy villany! + Any knave may slay the child who climbs and slumbers on his knee." + + "Hunger hears not, cares not, spares not; no boon of the starving beg; + When the snake is pinched with craving, verily she eats her egg." + + * * * * * + + "Of the Tree of State the root + Kings are--feed what brings the fruit." + + * * * * * + + "Courtesy may cover malice; on their _heads_ the woodmen bring, + Meaning all the while to burn them, logs and faggots--oh, my King! + And the strong and subtle river, rippling at the cedar's foot, + While it seems to lave and kiss it, undermines the hanging root." + + * * * * * + + "Weep not! Life the hired nurse is, holding us a little space; + Death, the mother who doth take us back into our proper place." + + "Gone, with all their gauds and glories: gone, like peasants, are the + Kings, + Whereunto this earth was witness, whereof all her record rings." + + "For the body, daily wasting, is not seen to waste away, + Until wasted; as in water set a jar of unbaked clay." + + "And day after day man goeth near and nearer to his fate, + As step after step the victim thither where its slayers wait." + + "Like as a plank of drift-wood + Tossed on the watery main, + Another plank encountered, + Meets,--touches,--parts again; + So tossed, and drifting ever, + On life's unresting sea, + Men meet, and greet, and sever, + Parting eternally." + + "Halt, traveller! rest i' the shade: then up and leave it! + Stay, Soul! take fill of love; nor losing, grieve it!" + + "Each beloved object born + Sets within the heart a thorn, + Bleeding, when they be uptorn." + + "If thine own house, this rotting frame, doth wither, + Thinking another's lasting--goest thou thither?" + + "Meeting makes a parting sure, + Life is nothing but death's door." + + "As the downward-running rivers never turn and never stay, + So the days and nights stream deathward, bearing human lives away." + + "Bethinking him of darkness grim, and death's unshunned pain, + A man strong-souled relaxes hold, like leather soaked in rain." + + "From the day, the hour, the minute. + Each life quickens in the womb; + Thence its march, no falter in it, + Goes straight forward to the tomb." + + "An 'twere not so, would sorrow cease with years? + Wisdom sees right what want of knowledge fears." + + "Seek not the wild, sad heart! thy passions haunt it; + Play hermit in thy house with heart undaunted; + A governed heart, thinking no thought but good, + Makes crowded houses holy solitude." + + "Away with those that preach to us the washing off of sin-- + Thine own self is the stream for thee to make ablutions in: + In self-restraint it rises pure--flows clear in tide of truth, + By widening banks of wisdom, in waves of peace and truth." + + "Bathe there, thou son of Pandu! with reverence and rite, + For never yet was water wet could wash the spirit white." + + * * * * * + + "Thunder for nothing, like December's cloud, + Passes unmarked: strike hard, but speak not loud." + + * * * * * + + "Minds deceived by evil natures, from the good their faith withhold; + When hot conjee once has burned them, children blow upon the cold." + + +THE END. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Indian Poetry, by Edwin Arnold + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INDIAN POETRY *** + +***** This file should be named 25965.txt or 25965.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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