Joyfully springing there

He seiz'd the weapon, and with eager stroke Hew'd at the chain; the force was dealt in vain, For not as if through yielding air Past the descending scymitar,

Its deaden'd way the heavy water broke; Yet it bit deep. Again, with both his hands, He wields the blade, and dealt a surer blow. The baser metal yields

To that fine edge, and lo! the Glendoveer Rises and snaps the half-sever'd links, and stands Freed from his broken bands.

XVII.

BALY.

THIS is the appointed night,
The night of joy and consecrated mirth,
When, from his judgment-seat in Padalon,
By Yamen's throne,

Baly goes forth, that he may walk the Earth
Unseen, and hear his name

Still hymn'd and honour'd by the grateful voice
Of humankind, and in his fame rejoice.
Therefore from door to door, and street to street,
With willing feet,

Shaking their firebrands, the glad children run; Baly! great Baly! they acclaim, Where'er they run they bear the mighty name, Where'er they meet,

Baly! great Baly! still their choral tongues repeat. Therefore at every door the votive flame Through pendant lanterns sheds its painted light, And rockets hissing upward through the sky, Fall like a shower of stars

From Heaven's black canopy. Therefore, on yonder mountain's templed height, The brazen cauldron blazes through the night. Huge as a Ship that travels the main sea Is that capacious brass; its wick as tall As is the mast of some great admiral. Ten thousand votaries bring

Camphor and ghee to feed the sacred flame; And while, through regions round, the nations see Its fiery pillar curling high in heaven, Baly! great Baly! they exclaim, For ever hallowed be his blessed name! Honour and praise to him for ever more be given!

Why art not thou among the festive throng,
Baly, O Mighty One! to hear thy fame?
Still, as of yore, with pageantry and song,
The glowing streets along,
They celebrate thy name;
Baly! great Baly! still

The grateful habitants of Earth acclaim,
Baly! great Baly! still

The ringing walls and echoing towers proclaim.
From yonder mountain the portentous flame

Still blazes to the nations as before; All things appear to human eyes the same, As perfect as of yore;

To human eyes,-but how unlike to thine! Thine which were wont to see

He turns away from that ungrateful sight,
Hallowed not now by visitants divine,
And there he bends his melancholy way
Where in yon full-orbed Moon's refulgent light,
The Golden Towers of his old City shine
Above the silver sea. The mighty Chief
There bent his way in grief,

As if sad thoughts indulged would work their own relief.

There he beholds upon the sand

A lovely Maiden in the moonlight stand.
The land-breeze lifts her locks of jet,
The waves around her polish'd ancles play,
Her bosom with the salt sea-spray is wet;
Her arms are crost, unconsciously, to fold
That bosom from the cold,
While statue-like she seems her watch to keep,
Gazing intently on the restless deep.

Seven miserable days had Kailyal there,
From earliest dawn till evening, watch'd the deep;
Six nights within the chamber of the rock,
Had laid her down, and found in prayer
That comfort which she sought in vain from sleep.
But when the seventh night came,
Never should she behold her father more,
The wretched Maiden said in her despair;
Yet would not quit the shore,

Nor turn her eyes one moment from the sea:
Never before

Had Kailyal watch'd it so impatiently,

Never so eagerly had hoped before, As now when she believed, and said, all hope was o'er.

Beholding her, how beautiful she stood, In that wild solitude,

Baly from his invisibility

Had issued then, to know her cause of woe;
But that in the air beside her, he espied
Two Powers of Evil for her hurt allied,
Foul Arvalan and dreadful Lorrinite,
The Mighty One they could not see,
And marking with what demon-like delight
They kept their innocent prey in sight,
He waits, expecting what the end may be.

She starts; for lo! where floating many a rood, A Monster, hugest of the Ocean brood, Weltering and lifeless, drifts toward the shore. Backward she starts in fear before the flood,

And, when the waves retreat, They leave their hideous burthen at her feet.

She ventures to approach with timid tread,
She starts, and half draws back in fear,
Then stops, and stretches on her head,
To see if that huge Beast indeed be dead.
Now growing bold, the Maid advances near,
Even to the margin of the ocean-flood.
Rightly she reads her Father's victory,
And lifts her joyous hands, exultingly,
To Heaven in gratitude.

Then spreading them toward the Sea,
While pious tears bedim her streaming eyes,
Come! come! my Father, come to me,
Ereenia, come! she cries.

Lo! from the opening deep they rise, And to Ladurlad's arms the happy Kailyal flies.

She turn'd from him, to meet, with beating heart,
The Glendoveer's embrace.

Now turn to me, for mine thou art!
Foul Arvalan exclaim'd; his loathsome face
Came forth, and from the air,

In fleshly form, he burst.
Always in horror and despair,

Had Kailyal seen that form and face accurst,
But yet so sharp a pang had ne'er

Shot with a thrill like death through all her frame,
As now when on her hour of joy the Spectre came.

Vain is resistance now,

The fiendish laugh of Lorrinite is heard;
And, at her dreadful word,

The Asuras once again appear,

And seize Ladurlad and the Glendoveer.
Hold your accursed hands!

A voice exclaim'd, whose dread commands Were fear'd through all the vaults of Padalon; And there among them, in the midnight air, The presence of the mighty Baly shone.

He, making manifest his mightiness,
Put forth on every side an hundred arms,
And seiz'd the Sorceress; maugre all her charms,
Her and her fiendish ministers he caught
With force as uncontrollable as fate;
And that unhappy Soul, to whom
The Almighty Rajah's power availeth not
Living to avert, nor dead to mitigate
His righteous doom.

Help, help, Kehama! Father, help! he cried,
But Baly tarried not to abide
That mightier One; with irresistible feet
He stampt and cleft the Earth; it opened wide,
And gave him way to his own judgment-seat.
Down, like a plummet, to the World below
He sunk, and bore his prey

To righteous punishment, and endless woe.

XVIII.

KEHAMA'S DESCENT.

THE Earth, by Baly's feet divided, Clos'd o'er his way as to the judgement-seat

He plunged and bore his prey. Scarce had the shock subsided,

When, darting from the Swerga's heavenly heights, Kehama, like a thunderbolt, alights.

In wrath he came, a bickering flame Flash'd from his eyes which made the moonlight dim; And passion forcing way from every limb, Like furnace-smoke, with terrors wrapt him round. Furious he smote the ground;

Earth trembled underneath the dreadful stroke,
Again in sunder riven;

He hurl'd in rage his whirling weapon down.
But lo! the fiery sheckra77 to his feet
Return'd, as if by equal force re-driven,
And from the abyss the voice of Baly came:
Not
yet,
O Rajah, hast thou won
The realms of Padalon!

Earth and the Swerga are thine own,
But, till Kehama shall subdue the throne
Of Hell, in torments Yamen holds his son.

Fool that he is!-in torments let him lie!
Kehama, wrathful at his son, replied.
But what am I,

That thou shouldst brave me?-kindling in his pride
The dreadful Rajah cried.

Ho! Yamen! hear me. God of Padalon,
Prepare thy throne,

And let the Amreeta cup

Be ready for my lips, when I anon Triumphantly shall take my seat thereon, And plant upon thy neck my royal feet. In voice like thunder thus the Rajah cried, Impending o'er the abyss, with menacing hand Put forth, as in the action of command, And eyes that darted their red anger down. Then drawing back he let the earth subside, And, as his wrath relax'd, survey'd, Thoughtful and silently, the mortal Maid. Her the while was on the farthest sky, eye Where up the ethereal height Breenia rose and past away from sight. Never had she so joyfully Beheld the coming of the Glendoveer, Dear as he was and he deserv'd to be, As now she saw him rise and disappear.

Come now what will, within her heart, said she, For thou art safe, and what have I to fear?

Meantime the Almighty Rajah, late

In power and majesty and wrath array'd, Had laid his terrors by, And gazed upon the Maid. Pride could not quit his eye, Nor that remorseless nature from his front Depart; yet whoso had beheld him then Had felt some admiration mix'd with dread, And might have said,

That sure he seem'd to be the King of Men; Less than the greatest that he could not be, Who carried in his port such might and majesty.

In fear no longer for the Glendoveer, Now toward the Rajah Kailyal turn'd her eyes As if to ask what doom awaited her. But then surprise,

Even as with fascination held them there, So strange a thing it seem'd to see the change Of purport in that all-commanding brow, That thoughtfully was bent upon her now. Wondering she gazed, the while her Father's eye Was fix'd upon Kehama haughtily; It spake defiance to him, high disdain, Stern patience, unsubduable by pain, And pride triumphant over agony.

Ladurlad, said the Rajah, thou and I Alike have done the work of Destiny, Unknowing each to what the impulse tended; But now that over Earth and Heaven my reign Is stablish'd, and the ways of Fate are plain Before me, here our enmity is ended.

I take away thy Curse-As thus he said,
The fire which in Ladurlad's heart and brain
Was burning, fled, and left him free from pain.
So rapidly his torments were departed,
That at the sudden ease he started,
As with a shock, and to his head
His hands upfled,

As if he felt through every failing limb
The power and sense of life forsaking him.
Then turning to the Maid, the Rajah cried,
O Virgin, above all of mortal birth
Favour'd alike in beauty and in worth,
And in the glories of thy destiny,
Now let thy happy heart exult with pride,
For Fate hath chosen thee
To be Kehama's bride,

To be the Queen of Heaven and Earth,
And of whatever Worlds beside
Infinity may hide-For I can see
The writing which at thy nativity,
All-knowing Nature wrought upon thy brain,78
In branching veins, which to the gifted eye
Map out the mazes of futurity.
There is it written, Maid, that thou and I,
Alone of human kind a deathless pair,
Are doom'd to share

The Amreeta-drink divine
Of immortality. Come, Maiden mine!
High fated One, ascend the subject sky,
And by Kehama's side

Sit on the Swerga throne, his equal bride.
Oh never, never-Father! Kailyal cried;
It is not as he saith,-it cannot be!
I-I his bride!
Nature is never false; he wrongeth her!
My heart belies such lines of destiny,
There is no other true interpreter!

At that reply Kehama's darkening brow
Bewray'd the anger which he yet suppress'd.'
Counsel thy daughter; tell her thou art now
Free from thy Curse, he said, and bid her bow
In thankfulness to Fate's benign behest.
Bid her her stubborn will restrain,
For Destiny at last must be obey'd,
And tell her, while obedience is delay'd,
Thy Curse will burn again.

She needeth not my counsel, he replied,
And idly, Rajah, dost thou reason thus

Of Destiny! for though all other things Were subject to the starry influencings, And bow'd submissive to thy tyranny, The virtuous heart, and resolute will are free. Thus in their wisdom did the Gods decree When they created man. Let come what will, This is our rock of strength; in every ill, Sorrow, oppression, pain, and agony, The spirit of the good is unsubdued, And, suffer as they may, they triumph still. Obstinate fools! exclaim'd the Mighty One, Fate and my pleasure must be done, And ye resist in vain!

Take your fit guerdon till we meet again! So saying, his vindictive hand he flung Towards them, fill'd with curses; then on high Aloft he sprung, and vanish'd through the Sky.

XIX.

MOUNT CALASAY.

THE Rajah, scattering curses as he rose, Soar'd to the Swerga, and resumed his throne. Not for his own redoubled agony, Which now through heart and brain, With renovated pain,

groan,

Rush'd to its seat, Ladurlad breathes that
That groan is for his child; he groan'd to see
The lovely one defiled with leprosy,
Which, as the enemy vindictive fled,
O'er all her frame with quick contagion spread.
She, wondering at events so passing strange,
And fill'd with hope and fear,

And joy to see the Tyrant disappear,
And glad expectance of her Glendoveer,
Perceived not in herself the hideous change.
His burning pain, she thought, had forced the groan
Her father breathed; his agonies alone
Were present to her mind; she clasp'd his knees,
Wept for his Curse, and did not feel her own.

Nor when she saw her plague, did her good heart, True to itself, even for a moment fail. Ha, Rajah! with disdainful smile she cries, Mighty and wise and wicked as thou art, Still thy blind vengeance acts a friendly part, Shall I not thank thee for this scurf and scale Of dire deformity, whose loathsomeness, Surer than panoply of strongest mail, Arms me against all foes! Oh, better so, › Better such foul disgrace, Than that this innocent face Should tempt thy wooing! That I need not dread; Nor ever impious foe

Will offer outrage now, nor farther woe Will beauty draw on my unhappy head, Safe through the unholy world may Kailyal go. Her face in virtuous pride

Was lifted to the skies,

As him and his poor vengeance she defied; But earthward, when she ceased, she turn'd her eyes, As if she sought to hide

The tear which in her own despite would rise.

Did then the thought of her own Glendoveer Call forth that natural tear?

Was it a woman's fear,

A thought of earthly love which troubled her? Like yon thin cloud amid the moonlight sky That flits before the wind

And leaves no trace behind, The womanly pang pass'd over Kailyal's mind. This is a loathsome sight to human eye, Half-shrinking at herself, the Maiden thought, Will it be so to him? Oh surely not!

The immortal Powers, who see Through the poor wrappings of mortality, Behold the soul, the beautiful soul, within,

Exempt from age and wasting malady,

And undeform'd, while pure and free from sin. This is a loathsome sight to human eye, But not to eyes divine,

Ereenia, Son of Heaven, oh not to thine!

The wrongful thought of fear, the womanly pain Had pass'd away, her heart was calm again. She raised her head, expecting now to see The Glendoveer appear; Where hath he fled, quoth she, That he should tarry now? Oh had she known Whither the adventurous Son of Heaven was flown, Strong as her spirit was, it had not borne

The awful thought, nor dared to hope for his return.

For he in search of Seeva's throne was gone,
To tell his tale of wrong;

In search of Seeva's own abode
The daring one began his heavenly road.
O wild emprise! above the farthest skies
He hoped to rise!

Him who is throned beyond the reach of thought,
The Alone, the Inaccessible, he sought.
O wild emprize! for when in days of yore,
For proud pre-eminence of power,

Brama and Veeshnoo, wild with rage, contended,
And Seeva, in his might,
Their dread contention ended;

Before their sight

In form a fiery column did he tower,

Whose head above the highest height extended,
Whose base below the deepest depth descended.
Downward, its depth to sound,
Veeshnoo a thousand years explored
The fathomless profound,

And yet no base he found:
Upward, to reach its head,

Ten myriad years the aspiring Brama soar'd,
And still, as up he fled,

Above him still the Immeasurable spread.
The rivals own'd their Lord,

And trembled and adored.
How shall the Glendoveer attain

What Brama and what Veeshno sought in vain?

Ne'er did such thought of lofty daring enter Celestial Spirit's mind. O wild adventure That throne to find, for he must leave behind This World, that in the centre, Within its salt-sea girdle, lies confined; Yea, the Seven Earths,79 that, each with its own ocean,

Ring clasping ring, compose the mighty round.
What power of motion,

In less than endless years, shall bear him there,
Along the limitless extent,

To the utmost bound of the remotest spheres?
What strength of wing

Suffice to pierce the Golden Firmament
That closes all within?

Yet he hath pass'd the measureless extent,

And pierced the Golden Firmament; For Faith hath given him power, and Space and Time Vanish before that energy sublime. Nor doth eternal Night,

And outer Darkness, check his resolute flight; By strong desire through all he makes his way, Till Seeva's seat appears,-behold Mount Calasay!

Behold the Silver Mountain! round about Seven ladders stand, so high, the aching eye, Seeking their tops in vain amid the sky, Might deem they led from earth to highest heaven. Ages would pass away,

And Worlds with age decay,

Ere one whose patient feet, from ring to ring
Must win their upward way,

Could reach the summit of Mount Calasay,80
But that strong power that nerv'd his wing,
That all-surmounting will,

Intensity of faith and holiest love,
Sustain'd Ereenia still,

And he hath gain'd the plain, the sanctuary above.

Lo, there the Silver Bell,

That, self-sustain'd, hangs buoyant in the air!
Lo! the broad Table there, too bright
For mortal sight,

From whose four sides the bordering gems unite
Their harmonizing rays,

In one mid fount of many-colour'd light.
The stream of splendour, flashing as it flows,
Plays round, and feeds the stem of yon celestial Rose!
Where is the Sage whose wisdom can declare
The hidden things of that mysterious flower,
That flower which serves all mysteries to bear?
The sacred Triangle is there,

Holding the Emblem which no tongue may tell. Is this the Heaven of Heavens, where Seeva's self doth dwell?

Here first the Glendoveer

Felt his wing flag, and paused upon his flight.
Was it that fear came over him, when here
He saw the imagin'd throne appear?
Not so, for his immortal sight
Endur'd the Table's light;

Distinctly he beheld all things around, And doubt and wonder rose within his mind That this was all he found.

Howbeit he lifted up his voice and spake. There is oppression in the World below: groans beneath the yoke; yea, in her woe, She asks if the Avenger's eye is blind?

Earth

Awake, O Lord, awake!

Too long thy vengeance sleepeth. Holy One! Put thou thy terrors on for mercy's sake, And strike the blow, in justice to mankind!

So as he prayed, intenser faith he felt,
His spirit seem'd to melt
With ardent yearnings of increasing love;
Upward he turned his eyes

As if there should be something yet above;
Let me not, Seeva! seek in vain! he cries;
Thou art not here,-for how should these contain thee'
Thou art not here, for how should I sustain thee?
But thou, where'er thou art,
Canst hear the voice of prayer,
Canst hear the humble heart.
Thy dwelling who can tell,

Or who, O Lord, hath seen thy secret throne?
But thou art not alone,
Not unapproachable!
O all-embracing Mind,
Thou who art every where,81
Whom all who seek shall find,

So saying, up he sprung,

And struck the Bell, which self-suspended hung Before the mystic Rose.

From side to side the silver tongue Melodious swung, and far and wide Soul-thrilling tones of heavenly music rung. Abash'd, confounded,

It left the Glendoveer-yea all astounded
In overpowering fear and deep dismay;
For when that Bell had sounded,

The Rose, with all the mysteries it surrounded,
The Bell, the Table, and Mount Calasay,

The holy Hill itself, with all thereon,
Even as a morning dream before the day
Dissolves away, they faded and were gone.

And, sloping down the sky

Toward the spot from whence he sprung on high,
There on the shore he landed.
Kailyal advanced to meet him,
Not moving now as she was wont to greet him,
Joy in her eye and in her eager pace;
With a calm smile of melancholy pride
She met him now, and, turning half aside,
Her warning hand repell'd the dear embrace.
Strange things, Ereenia, have befall'n us here,
The Virgin said; the Almighty Man hath read
The lines which, traced by Nature on my brain,
There to the gifted eye

Make all my fortunes plain,
Mapping the mazes of futurity.
He sued for peace, for it is written there
That I with him the Amreeta cup must share;
Wherefore he bade me come, and by his side
Sit on the Swerga-throne, his equal bride.
I need not tell thee what reply was given;
My heart, the sure interpreter of leaven,
His impious words belied.

Thou seest his poor revenge! So having said, One look she glanced upon her leprous stain Indignantly, and shook

Her head in calm disdain.

Of Fate; almighty as he is, that maze Hath mock'd his fallible sight. Said he the Amreeta-cup? So far aright The Evil One may see; for Fate displays Her hidden things in part, and part conceals, Baffling the wicked eye

Alike with what she hides, and what reveals,
When with unholy purpose it would pry
Into the secrets of futurity.

So may it be permitted him to see
Dimly the inscrutable decree;
For to the World below,

Where Yamen guards the Amreeta, we must go;
Thus Seeva hath exprest his will, even he
The Holiest hath ordained it; there, he saith,
All wrongs shall be redrest

By Yamen, by the righteous Power of Death.

Forthwith the Father and the fated Maid, And that heroic Spirit, who for them

Such flight had late essay'd,

The will of Heaven obey'd.
They went their way along the road
That leads to Yamen's dread abode.

Many a day hath past away Since they began their arduous way, Their way of toil and pain; And now their weary feet attain The Earth's remotest bound, Where outer Ocean girds it round. But not like other Oceans this, Rather it seem'd a drear abyss, Upon whose brink they stood.