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Half from their beds of torture they uprise, And half uproot their chains.

Is there not fear in Heaven?

The souls that are in bliss suspend their joy;
The danger hath disturb'd
The calm of Deity,

And Brama fears, and Veeshnoo turns his face
In doubt toward Seeva's throne.

EREENIA.

I have seen Indra tremble at his prayers, And at his dreadful penances turn pale. They claim and wrest from Seeva power so vast, That even Seeva's self,

The Highest, cannot grant and be secure.

CASYAPA.

And darest thou, Ereenia, brave The Almighty Tyrant's power?

FREENIA.

I brave him, Father! I?

CASYAPA.

Darest thou brave his vengeance? - For, if not,
Take her again to earth,

Cast her before the Tiger in his path,
Or where the death-dew-dropping tree
May work Kehama's will.

EREENIA. Never!

CASYAPA.

Then meet his wrath! for He, even He, Hath set upon this worm his wanton foot.

EREENIA.

I knew her not, how wretched and how fair, When here I wafted her - poor Child of Earth,

Shall I forsake thee, seeing thee so fair,
So wretched? O my Father, let the Maid
Dwell in the Sacred Grove!

CASYAPA.

That must not be,

For Force and Evil then would enter here; Ganges, the holy stream which cleanseth sin, Would flow from hence polluted in its springs, And they who gasp upon its banks in death, Feel no salvation. Piety, and Peace,

And Wisdom, these are mine; but not the power

Kehama hath assign'd, until his days Of wandering shall be number'd.

EREENIA.

Look! she drinks

The gale of healing from the blessed Groves. She stirs, and lo! her hand

Hath touch'd the Holy River in its source, Who would have shrunk if aught impure were nigh.

CASYAPA.

The Maiden, of a truth, is pure from sin.

5.

The waters of the Holy Spring About the hand of Kailyal play; They rise, they sparkle, and they sing, Leaping where languidly she lay, As if with that rejoicing stir The Holy Spring would welcome her. The Tree of Life, which o'er her spread, Benignant bow'd its sacred head, And dropp'd its dews of healing; And her heart-blood, at every breath Recovering from the strife of death, Drew in new strength and feeling. Behold her beautiful in her repose, A life-bloom reddening now her dark-brown cheek;

And lo! her eyes unclose,

Dark as the depth of Ganges' spring profound, When night hangs over it;

Bright as the Moon's refulgent beam, That quivers on its clear up-sparkling stream.

6.

Soon she let fall her lids,

As one who, from a blissful dream
Waking to thoughts of pain,

Fain would return to sleep, and dream again.
Distrustful of the sight,

She moves not, fearing to disturb
The deep and full delight.

In wonder fix'd, opening again her eye
She gazes silently,

Thinking her mortal pilgrimage was past,

That she had reach'd her heavenly home of rest, And these were Gods before her,

Or spirits of the blest.

7.

Lo! at Ereenia's voice,

Which could protect her from the Almighty Man; A Ship of Heaven comes sailing down the skies.

Nor when the Spirit of dead Arvalan Should persecute her here to glut his rage,

To heap upon her yet more agony,

And ripen more damnation for himself.

EREENIA.

Dead Arvalan?

CASYAPA.

All power to him, whereof

The disimbodied spirit in its state Of weakness could be made participant,

Where wouldst thou bear her? cries

The ancient Sire of Gods.

Straight to the Swerga, to my bower of bliss, The Glendoveer replies,

To Indra's own abodes.

Foe of her foe, were it alone for this

Indra should guard her from his vengeance there; But if the God forbear,

Unwilling yet the perilous strife to try,

Or shrinking from the dreadful Rajah's might, Weak as I am, O Father, even I

Stand forth in Seeva's sight.

8.

Trust thou in him whate'er betide,

And stand forth fearlessly!

The Sire of Gods replied:

All that He wills is right; and doubt not thou, Howe'er our feeble scope of sight

May fail us now,

His righteous will in all things must be done. My blessing be upon thee, O my son!

VII.

THE SWERGA.

1.

THEN in the Ship of Heaven, Ereenia laid

The waking, wondering Maid;

The Ship of Heaven, instinct with thought, display'd

Its living sail, and glides along the sky
On either side, in wavy tide,

The clouds of morn along its path divide;
The Winds, who swept in wild career on high,
Before its presence check their charmed force;
The Winds, that loitering lagg'd along their course,

Around the living Bark enamor'd play, Swell underneath the sail, and sing before its way.

2.

That Bark, in shape, was like the furrow'd shell Wherein the Sea-Nymphs to their parent-King, On festal day, their duteous offerings bring. lts hue? - - Go watch the last green light Ere Evening yields the western sky to Night; Or fix upon the Sun thy strenuous sight Till thou hast reach'd its orb of chrysolite. The sail, from end to end display'd, Bent, like a rainbow, o'er the Maid. An Angel's head, with visual eye, Through trackless space, directs its chosen way; Nor aid of wing, nor foot, nor fin, Requires to voyage o'er the obedient sky. Smooth as the swan, when not a breeze at even Disturbs the surface of the silver stream, Through air and sunshine sails the Ship of Heaven.

3.

Recumbent there the Maiden glides along
On her aerial way.

How swift she feels not, though the swiftest wind

Had flagg'd in flight behind.
Motionless as a sleeping babe she lay,
And all serene in mind,

Feeling no fear; for that ethereal air
With such new life and joyance fill'd her heart,
Fear could not enter there;

For sure she deem'd her mortal part was o'er, And she was sailing to the heavenly shore; And that angelic form, who moved beside, Was some good Spirit sent to be her guide.

4.

Daughter of Earth! therein thou deem'st aright; And never yet did form more beautiful,

In dreams of night descending from on high, Bless the religious Virgin's gifted sight,

Nor, like a vision of delight,

Rise on the raptured Poet's inward eye.
Of human form divine was he,

The immortal Youth of Heaven who floated by,
Even such as that divinest form shall be
In those blest stages of our onward race,
When no infirmity,

Low thought, nor base desire, nor wasting care,
Deface the semblance of our heavenly sire.

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Come, plead thyself to Indra! Words like thine

Like diamond drops, ethereal waters fell From every leaf of all its ample bower. Rolling adown the steep

From that aerial height,

Through the deep shade of aromatic trees, Half seen, the cataracts shoot their gleams of light, And pour upon the breeze

Their thousand voices; far away the roar, In medulations of delightful sound, Half heard and ever varying, floats around. Below, an ample Lake expanded lies, Blue as the o'er-arching skies; Forth issuing from that lovely Lake A thousand rivers water Paradise. Full to the brink, yet never overflowing, They cool the amorous gales, which, ever blowing, O'er their melodious surface love to stray;

Then, winging back their way,

Their vapors to the parent Tree repay; And ending thus where they began, And feeding thus the source from whence they

came,

The eternal rivers of the Swerga ran, Forever renovate, yet still the same.

10.

On that ethereal lake, whose waters lie
Blue and transpicuous, like another sky,
The Elements had rear'd their King's abode.
A strong, controlling power their strife suspended,
And there their hostile essences they blended,
To form a Palace worthy of the God.
Built on the Lake, the waters were its floor;
And here its walls were water arch'd with fire;
And here were fire with water vaulted o'er;

And spires and pinnacles of fire
Round watery cupolas aspire,

And domes of rainbow rest on fiery towers,
And roofs of flame are turreted around
With cloud, and shafts of cloud with flame are
bound.

Here, too, the Elements forever veer, Ranging around with endless interchanging; Pursued in love, and so in love pursuing, In endless revolutions here they roll; Forever their mysterious work renewing; The parts all shifting, still unchanged the whole. Even we on earth at intervals descry Gleams of the glory, streaks of flowing light,

May win their purpose, rouse his slumbering Openings of heaven, and streams that flash at

heart,

And make him yet put forth his arm to wield The thunder, while the thunder is his own.

9.

Then to the Garden of the Deity
Ereenia led the Maid.

In the mid garden tower'd a giant Tree;
Rock-rooted on a mountain-top, it grew,
Rear'd its unrivall'd head on high,
And stretch'd a thousand branches o'er the sky,
Drinking with all its leaves celestial dew.
Lo! where from thence, as from a living well,
A thousand torrents flow!
For still in one perpetual shower,

night,

In fitful splendor, through the northern sky.

11.

Impatient of delay, Ereenia caught
The Maid aloft, and spread his wings abroad,
And bore her to the presence of the God.
There Indra sat upon his throne reclined,
Where Devetas adore him;

The lute of Nared, warbling on the wind,
All tones of magic harmony combined
To soothe his troubled mind,
While the dark-eyed Apsaras danced before him.
In vain the God-musician play'd,
In vain the dark-eyed Nymphs of Heaven essay'd

To charm him with their beauties in the dance; And when he saw the mortal Maid appear,

Led by the heroic Glendoveer, A deeper trouble fill'd his countenance. What hast thou done, Ereenia, said the God, Bringing a mortal here?

And while he spake, his eye was on the Maid;
The look he gave was solemn, not severe;
No hope to Kailyal it convey'd,

And yet it struck no fear;
There was a sad displeasure in his air,
But pity too was there.

EREENIA.

Hear me, O Indra! On the lower earth I found this child of man, by what mishap I know not, lying in the lap of death. Aloft I bore her to our Father's grove, Not having other thought, than when the gales Of bliss had heal'd her, upon earth again To leave its lovely daughter. Other thoughts Arose, when Casyapa declared her fate; For she is one who groans beneath the power

Of the dread Rajah, terrible alike To men and Gods. His son, dead Arvalan, Arm'd with a portion, Indra, of thy power, Already wrested from thee, persecutes The Maid, the helpless one, the innocent. What, then, behoved me but to waft her here To my own Bower of Bliss? what other choice? The spirit of foul Arvalan not yet Hath power to enter here; here thou art yet Supreme, and yet the Swerga is thine own.

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His doubtful eye to Seeva, even as thou Dost look to him for aid. But thine own strength Should for thine own salvation be put forth; Then might the higher Powers approving see And bless the brave resolve.—Oh that my arm Could wield yon lightnings which play idly there, In inoffensive radiance, round thy head! The Swerga should not need a champion now, Nor Earth implore deliverance still in vain!

INDRA.

Thinkest thou I want the will? rash Son of Heaven,
What if my arm be feeble as thine own
Against the dread Kehama? He went on
Conquering in irresistible career,
Till his triumphant car had measured o'er
The insufficient earth, and all the Kings
Of men received his yoke; then had he won
His will, to ride upon their necks elate,
And crown his conquests with the sacrifice
That should, to men and gods, proclaim him Lord
And Sovereign Master of the vassal World,
Sole Rajah, the Omnipotent below.
The steam of that portentous sacrifice
Arose to Heaven. Then was the hour to strike;
Then, in the consummation of his pride,
His height of glory, then the thunderbolt
Should have gone forth, and hurl'd him from his
throne

Down to the fiery floor of Padalon,

To everlasting burnings, agony

Eternal, and remorse which knows no end. That hour went by: grown impious in success, By prayer and penances he wrested now Such power from Fate, that soon, if Seeva turn not His eyes on earth, and no Avatar save, Soon will he seize the Swerga for his own, Roll on through Padalon his chariot wheels, Tear up the adamantine bolts which lock The accurs'd Asuras to its burning floor, And force the drink of Immortality From Yamen's charge. Vain were it now to strive; My thunder cannot pierce the sphere of power Wherewith, as with a girdle, he is bound.

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Who knows but Veesnnoo will descend and save, Saying thus, she knelt, and to his knees she clung,

Once more incarnate?

EREENIA.

Look not there for help,

Nor build on unsubstantial hope thy trust. Our Father Casyapa hath said he turns

And bow'd her head, in tears and silence praying.
Rising anon, around his neck she flung
Her arms, and there with folded hands she hung,
And fixing on the guardian Glendoveer
Her eyes, more eloquent than Angel's tongue,
Again she cried, There is no comfort here!

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Wilt thou tamely the Swerga resign,
Art thou smitten, O Indra, with dread?

Or seest thou not, seest thou not, Monarch divine,
How many a day to Seeva's shrine

Kehama his victim hath led?
Nine and ninety days are fled,
Nine and ninety steeds have bled;
One more, the rite will be complete —
One victim more, and this the dreadful day.
Then will the impious Rajah seize thy seat,
And wrest the thunder-sceptre from thy sway.
Along the mead the hallow'd Steed
Yet bends at liberty his way;

At noon his consummating blood will flow.
O day of woe! above, below,

That blood confirms the Almighty Tyrant's reign!
Thou tremblest, O Indra, O God of the Sky,
Thy thunder is vain;

Thou tremblest on high for thy power!
But where is Veeshnoo at this hour?

But where is Seeva's eye?

Is the Destroyer blind?

Is the Preserver careless for mankind?

2.

Along the mead the hallow'd Steed Still wanders whereso'er he will, O'er hill, or dale, or plain; No human hand hath trick'd that mane From which he shakes the morning dew; His mouth has never felt the rein; His lips have never froth'd the chain; For pure of blemish and of stain, His neck unbroke to mortal yoke, Like Nature free the Steed must be, Fit offering for the Immortals he. A year and day the Steed must stray Wherever chance may guide his way, Before he fall at Seeva's shrine;

The year Nor touch of man hath marr'd the rite divine And now at noon the Steed must bleed, The perfect rite to-day must force the meed Which Fate reluctant shudders to bestow; Then must the Swerga-God

and day have pass'd away,

Yield to the Tyrant of the World below; Then must the Devetas obey

The Rajah's rod, and groan beneath his hateful

sway.

3.

The Sun rides high; the hour is nigh;
The multitude, who long
Lest aught should mar the rite,
In circle wide on every side,
Have kept the Steed in sight,

Contract their circle now, and drive him on. Drawn in long files before the Temple-court, The Rajah's archers flank an ample space; Here, moving onward still, they drive him near, Then, opening, give him way to enter here.

4.

Behold him; how he starts and flings his head! On either side in glittering order spread, The archers ranged in narrowing lines appear; The multitude behind close up the rear With moon-like bend, and silently await The awful end,

The rite that shall from Indra wrest his power. In front, with far-stretched walls, and many a tower,

Turret, and dome, and pinnacle elate,
The huge Pagoda seems to load the land:
And there before the gate
The Bramin band expectant stand;
The axe is ready for Kehama's hand.

5.

Hark! at the Golden Palaces
The Bramin strikes the time!

One, two, three, four, a thrice-told chime,
And then again, one, two.

The bowl that in its vessel floats, anew Must fill and sink again;

Then will the final stroke be due. The Sun rides high, the noon is nigh, And silently, as if spell-bound, The multitude expect the sound.

6.

Lo! how the Steed, with sudden start, Turns his quick head to every part! Long files of men on every side appear. The sight might well his heart affright; And yet the silence that is here

Inspires a stranger fear; For not a murmur, not a sound Of breath or motion rises round; No stir is heard in all that mighty crowd; He neighs, and from the temple-wall The voice reechoes loud,

Loud and distinct, as from a hill Across a lonely vale, when all is still.

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