7.

Within the temple, on his golden throne

Reclined, Kehama lies,
Watching with steady eyes
The perfumed light that, burning bright,
Metes out the passing hours.
On either hand his eunuchs stand,
Freshening with fans of peacock-plumes the air,
Which, redolent of all rich gums and flowers,
Seems, overcharged with sweets, to stagnate there.
Lo the time-taper's flame, ascending slow,
Creeps up its coil toward the fated line;
Kehama rises and goes forth,

And from the altar, ready where it lies,
He takes the axe of sacrifice.

8.

And cried aloud, Yes, Rajah! it is I! And wilt thou kill me now? The countenance of the Almighty Man Fell when he knew Ladurlad, and his brow Was clouded with despite, as one ashamed. That wretch again! indignant he exclaim'd, And smote his forehead, and stood silently Awhile in wrath: then, with ferocious smile, And eyes which seem'd to darken his dark cheek, Let him go free! he cried; he hath his Curse, And vengeance upon him can wreak no worse — But ye who did not stop him-tremble ye!

11.

He bade the archers pile their weapons there: No manly courage fill'd the slavish band, No sweetening vengeance roused a brave despair.

meet

Will he, who knows no mercy, now require? The obsequious guards around, with blood-hound eye,

Look for the word, in slow-consuming fire, By piecemeal death, to make the wretch expire, Or hoist his living carcass, hook'd on high, To feed the fowls and insects of the sky; Or if aught worse inventive cruelty To that remorseless heart of royalty Might prompt, accursed instruments they stand To work the wicked will with wicked hand. Far other thoughts were in the multitude; Pity, and human feelings, held them still; And stifled sighs and groans suppress'd were there, And many a secret curse and inward prayer Call'd on the insulted Gods to save mankind. Expecting some new crime, in fear they stood, Some horror which would make the natural blood Start, with cold shudderings thrill the sinking heart, Whiten the lip, and make the abhorrent eye Roll back and close, press'd in for agony.

Spread o'er the tainted sky.
Vultures, for whom the Rajah's tyranny
So oft had furnish'd food, from far and nigh
Sped to the lure: aloft, with joyful cry,
Wheeling around, they hover'd overhead;
Or, on the temple perch'd with greedy eye,
Impatient watch'd the dead.

Far off the Tigers, in the inmost wood, Heard the death shriek, and snuff'd the scent of blood;

They rose, and through the covert went their way, Couch'd at the forest edge, and waited for their prey.

2.

He who had sought for death went wandering on;
The hope which had inspired his heart was gone;
Yet a wild joyance still inflamed his face,
A smile of vengeance, a triumphant glow.
Where goes he?- Whither should Ladurlad go!
Unwittingly the wretch's footsteps trace
Their wonted path toward his dwelling-place;
And wandering on, unknowing where,
He starts like one surprised at finding he is there.

3.

Behold his lowly home,

By yonder broad-bough'd plane o'ershaded :

There Marriataly's Image stands, And there the garland twined by Kailyal's hands Around its brow hath faded.

The peacocks, at their master's sight, Quick from the leafy thatch alight, And hurry round, and search the ground, And veer their glancing necks from side to side, Expecting from his hand

Their daily dole which erst the Maid supplied, Now all too long denied.

4.

But, as he gazed around,

How strange did all accustom'd sights appear! How differently did each familiar sound Assail his alter'd ear!

Here stood the marriage bower,

Rear'd in that happy hour

When he, with festal joy and youthful pride, Had brought Yedillian home, his beauteous bride. Leaves not its own, and many a borrow'd flower, Had then bedeck'd it, withering ere the night; But he who look'd from that auspicious day For years of long delight,

And would not see the marriage bower decay, There planted and nurs'd up, with daily care, The sweetest herbs that scent the ambient air, And train'd them round to live and flourish there. Nor when dread Yamen's will Had call'd Yedillian from his arms away, Ceased he to tend the marriage-bower, but still, Sorrowing, had dress'd it like a pious rite Due to the monument of past delight.

The market-flag, which, hoisted high,
From far and nigh,

Above yon cocoa grove is seen,
Hangs motionless amid the sultry sky.
Loud sounds the village drum; a happy crowd
Is there; Ladurlad hears their distant voices,
But with their joy no more his heart rejoices;
And how their old companion now may fare
Little they know, and less they care;
The torment he is doom'd to bear
Was but to them the wonder of a day,
A burden of sad thoughts soon put away.

7.

As if they wrong'd him with their merriment. Resentfully he turn'd away his eyes,

Yet turn'd them but to find

Sights that enraged his mind

With envious grief more wild and overpowering.
The tank which fed his fields was there, and there
The large-leaved lotus on the waters flowering.
There, from the intolerable heat
The buffaloes retreat;

Only their nostrils raised to meet the air, Amid the sheltering element they rest. Impatient of the sight, he closed his eyes, And bow'd his burning head, and in despair Calling on Indra, — Thunder-God! he said, Thou owest to me alone this day thy throne; Be grateful, and in mercy strike me dead.

8.

Despair had roused him to that hopeless prayer; Yet thinking on the heavenly Powers, his mind Drew comfort; and he rose and gather'd flowers, And twined a crown for Marriataly's brow; And taking then her wither'd garland down, Replaced it with the blooming coronal. Not for myself, the unhappy Father cried, Not for myself, O Mighty One! I pray, Accursed as I am beyond thy aid! But, oh! be gracious still to that dear Maid Who crown'd thee with these garlands day by day, And danced before thee aye at even-tide In beauty and in pride.

O Marriataly, whereso'er she stray Forlorn and wretched, still be thou her guide!

9.

A loud and fiendish laugh replied, Scoffing his prayer. Aloft, as from the air, The sound of insult came: he look'd, and there

The visage of dead Arvalan came forth,
Only his face amid the clear blue sky,
With long-drawn lips of insolent mockery,
And eyes whose lurid glare
Was like a sulphur fire,

Mingling with darkness ere its flames expire.

10.

Ladurlad knew him well: enraged to see
The cause of all his misery,

He stoop'd and lifted from the ground
A stake, whose fatal point was black with blood;
The same wherewith his hand had dealt the wound,
When Arvalan, in hour with evil fraught,
For violation seized the shrieking Maid.
Thus arm'd, in act again to strike he stood,
And twice with inefficient wrath essay'd

To smite the impassive shade.
The lips of scorn their mockery-laugh renew'd,
And Arvalan put forth a hand, and caught
The sunbeam, and condensing there its light,
Upon Ladurlad turn'd the burning stream.
Vain cruelty the stake

Fell in white ashes from his hold, but he
Endured no added pain; his agony
Was full, and at the height;

him;

A fire was in his heart and brain, And from all other flame Kehama s Curse had charm'd him.

11.

Anon the Spirit waved a second hand; Down rush'd the obedient whirlwind from the sky, Scoop'd up the sand like smoke, and from on high

Shed the hot shower upon Ladurlad's head. Where'er he turns, the accursed Hand is there; East, West, and North, and South, on every side The hand accursed waves in air to guide The dizzying storm; ears, nostrils, eyes, and mouth It fills and chokes, and clogging every pore, Taught him new torments might be yet in store. Where shall he turn to fly? behold his house In flames! uprooted lies the marriage-bower, The Goddess buried by the sandy shower. Blindly, with staggering step, he reels about, And still the accursed Hand pursued, And still the lips of scorn their mockery-laugh renew'd.

12.

What, Arvalan! hast thou so soon forgot The grasp of Pollear? Wilt thou still defy The righteous Powers of heaven? or know'st thou

not

That there are yet superior Powers on high, Son of the Wicked? - Lo, in rapid flight, Ereenia hastens from the ethereal height; Bright is the sword celestial in his hand; Like lightning in its path athwart the sky, He comes and drives, with angel-arm, the blow. Oft have the Asuras, in the wars of Heaven, Felt that keen sword by arm angelic driven, And fled before it from the fields of light. Thrice through the vulnerable shade The Glendoveer impels the griding blade; The wicked Shade flies howling from his foe. So let that Spirit foul

Fly, and, for impotence of anger, howl, Writhing with anguish, and his wounds deplore; Worse punishment hath Arvalan deserved, And righteous Fate hath heavier doom in store.

13.

Not now the Glendoveer pursues his flight; He bade the Ship of Heaven alight,

And gently there he laid

The astonish'd Father by the happy Maid, The Maid now shedding tears of deep delight. Beholding all things with incredulous eyes, Still dizzy with the sand-storm, there he lay, While, sailing up the skies, the living Bark Through air and sunshine held its heavenly way.

X.

MOUNT MERU.

1.

SWIFT through the sky the vessel of the Suras Sails up the fields of ether like an Angel.

Rich is the freight, O Vessel, that thou bearest! Beauty and Virtue,

Fatherly cares and filial veneration, Hearts which are proved and strengthen'd by affliction,

Manly resentment, fortitude, and action,
Womanly goodness;

All with which Nature halloweth her daughters,
Tenderness, truth, and purity, and meekness,
Piety, patience, faith, and resignation,
Love and devotement.

Ship of the Gods, how richly art thou laden! Proud of the charge, thou voyagest rejoicing; Clouds float around to honor thee, and Evening Lingers in heaven.

2.

A Stream descends on Meru Mountain;
None hath seen its secret fountain;
It had its birth, so Sages say,
Upon the memorable day
When Parvati presumed to lay,
In wanton play,

Her hands, too venturous Goddess, in her mirth,
On Seeva's eyes, the light and life of Earth.
Thereat the heart of the Universe stood still;
The Elements ceased their influences; the Hours
Stopp'd on the eternal round; Motion, and Breath,
Time, Change, and Life, and Death,

In sudden trance oppress'd, forgot their powers.
A moment and the dread eclipse was ended;
But, at the thought of Nature thus suspended,
The sweat on Seeva's forehead stood,
And Ganges thence upon the world descended,
The Holy River, the Redeeming Flood.

3.

None hath seen its secret fountain; But on the top of Meru Mountain, Which rises o'er the hills of earth, In light and clouds, it hath its mortal birth. Earth seems that pinnacle to rear Sublime above this worldly sphere, Its cradle, and its altar, and its throne; And there the new-born River lies Outspread beneath its native skies, As if it there would love to dwell Alone and unapproachable. Soon flowing forward, and resign'd To the will of the Creating Mind, It springs at once, with sudden leap, Down from the immeasurable steep. From rock to rock, with shivering force rebounding, The mighty cataract rushes; Heaven around, Like thunder, with the incessant roar resounding, And Meru's summit shaking with the sound. Wide spreads the snowy foam, the sparkling

spray

Dances aloft; and ever there, at morning, The earliest sunbeams haste to wing their way, With rainbow wreaths the holy stream adorning; And d ly the adoring Moon at night Sheds her white glory there, And in the watery air

Suspends her halo-crowns of silver light.

O happy Sire, and happy Daughter!
Ye on the banks of that celestial water
Your resting-place and sanctuary have found.
What! hath not then their mortal taint defiled
The sacred, solitary ground?

Vain thought! the Holy Valley smiled,
Receiving such a Sire and Child;
Ganges, who seem'd asleep to lie,
Beheld them with benignant eye,
And rippled round melodiously,
And roll'd her little waves, to meet
And welcome their beloved feet.
The gales of Swerga thither fled,
And heavenly odors there were shed

About, below, and overhead;
And Earth, rejoicing in their tread,
Hath built them up a blooming Bower,
Where every amaranthine flower
Its deathless blossom interweaves
With bright and undecaying leaves.

Framed of the elements of Heaven; Pure dwelling-place for perfect mind. She stood and gazed on Sire and Child; Her tongue not yet had power to speak; The tears were streaming down her cheek; And when those tears her sight beguiled, And still her faltering accents fail'd,

The Spirit, mute and motionless,
Spread out her arms for the caress,
Made still and silent with excess
Of love and painful happiness.

9.

The Maid that lovely form survey'd; Wistful she gazed, and knew her not, But Nature to her heart convey'd A sudden thrill, a startling thought, A feeling many a year forgot, Now like a dream anew recurring, As if again in every vein Her mother's milk was stirring. With straining neck and earnest eye She stretch'd her hands imploringly, As if she fain would have her nigh, Yet fear'd to meet the wish'd embrace, At once with love and awe oppress'd. Not so Ladurlad; he could trace, Though brighten'd with angelic grace, His own Yedillian's earthly face; He ran and held her to his breast' Oh joy above all joys of Heaven, By Death alone to others given, This moment hath to him restored The early-lost, the long-deplored.

10.

They sin who tell us Love can die. With life all other passions fly, All others are but vanity. In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell, Nor Avarice in the vaults of Hell; Earthly these passions of the Earth, They perish where they have their birth; But Love is indestructible.

Its holy flame forever burneth; From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth; Too oft on Earth a troubled guest, At times deceived, at times oppress'd, It here is tried and purified, Then hath in Heaven its perfect rest: It soweth here with toil and care, But the harvest-time of Love is there.

11.

Oh! when a Mother meets on high The Babe she lost in infancy, Hath she not then, for pains and fears, The day of woe, the watchful night,

For all her sorrow, all her tears,
An over-payment of delight?

12.

A blessed family is this,

Assembled in the Bower of Bliss! Strange woe, Ladurlad, hath been thine,

And pangs beyond all human measure,
And thy reward is now divine,
A foretaste of eternal pleasure.
He knew indeed there was a day
When all these joys would pass away,
And he must quit this blest abode,

And, taking up again the spell,
Groan underneath the baleful load,
And wander o'er the world again,
Most wretched of the sons of men:
Yet was this brief repose, as when
A traveller in the Arabian sands,
Half fainting on his sultry road,
Hath reach'd the water-place at last;
And resting there beside the well,
Thinks of the perils he has past,
And gazes o'er the unbounded plain,
The plain which must be traversed still,
And drinks, yet cannot drink his fill;
Then girds his patient loins again.

So to Ladurlad now was given New strength, and confidence in Heaven, And hope, and faith invincible.

13.

For often would Ereenia tell
Of what in elder days befell,
When other Tyrants, in their might,
Usurp'd dominion o'er the earth;
And Veeshnoo took a human birth,

Deliverer of the Sons of men,
And slew the huge Ermaccasen,
And piecemeal rent, with lion force,

Errenen's accursed corse,

And humbled Baly in his pride;
And when the Giant Ravanen
Had borne triumphant from his side
Sita, the earth-born God's beloved bride,
Then from his island-kingdom, laugh'd to scorn
The insulted husband, and his power defied;
How, to revenge the wrong, in wrath he hied,
Bridging the sea before his dreadful way,
And met the hundred-headed foe,
And dealt him the unerring blow;

By Brama's hand the righteous lance was given,
And by that arm immortal driven,
It laid the mighty Tyrant low;

And Earth, and Ocean, and high Heaven,
Rejoiced to see his overthrow.
Oh! doubt not thou, Yedillian cried,
Such fate Kehama will betide;
For there are Gods who look below,—
Seeva, the Avenger, is not blind,
Nor Veeshnoo careless for mankind.

14.

Thus was Ladurlad's soul imbued With hope and holy fortitude; And Child and Sire, with pious mind,

Alike resolved, alike resign'd, Look'd onward to the evil day: Faith was their comfort, Faith their stay; They trusted Woe would pass away, And Tyranny would sink subdued, And Evil yield to Good.

15.

Lovely wert thou, O Flower of Earth' Above all flowers of mortal birth; But foster'd in this Blissful Bower, From day to day, and hour to hour, Lovelier grew the lovely flower. O blessed, blessed company! When men and heavenly spirits greet, And they whom Death had sever'd meet, And hold again communion sweet; — O blessed, blessed company!

16.

The Sun, careering round the sky, Beheld them with rejoicing eye, And bade his willing Charioteer Relax his speed as they drew near; Arounin check'd the rainbow reins, The seven green coursers shook their manes, And brighter rays around them threw; The Car of Glory in their view More radiant, more resplendent grew; And Surya, through his veil of light, Beheld the Bower, and blest the sight.

17.

The Lord of Night, as he sail'd by,

Stay'd his pearly boat on high; And while around the Blissful Bower, He bade the softest moonlight flow, Linger'd to see that earthly flower,

Forgetful of his Dragon foe, Who, mindful of their ancient feud, With open jaws of rage pursued.

18.

There all good Spirits of the air, Suras and Devetas, repair; Aloft they love to hover there, And view the flower of mortal birth, Here for her innocence and worth, Transplanted from the fields of earth; And him, who, on the dreadful day When Heaven was fill'd with consternation, And Indra trembled with dismay, And for the sounds of joy and mirth, Woe was heard and lamentation, Defied the Rajah in his pride, Though all in Heaven and Earth beside Stood mute in dolorous expectation; And, rushing forward in that hour, Saved the Swerga from his power. Grateful for this they hover nigh, And bless that blessed Company.

19.

One God alone, with wanton eye, Beheld them in their Bower; ye, he cried, who have defied The Rajah, will ye mock my power? 'Twas Camdeo riding on his lory, 'Twas the immortal Youth of Love; If men below and Gods above, Subject alike, quoth he, have felt these darts, Shall ye alone, of all in story,