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.

INDRA.

No child of man, Ereenia, in the Bowers
Of Bliss may sojourn, till he hath put off
His mortal part; for on mortality
Time and Infirmity and Death attend,
Close followers they, and in their mournful train
Sorrow and Pain and Mutability.

Did these find entrance here, we should behold
Our joys, like earthly summers, pass away.
Those joys perchance may pass; a stronger hand
May wrest my sceptre, and unparadise
The Swerga;... but, Ereenia, if we fall,
Let it be Fate's own arm that casts us down,
We will not rashly hasten and provoke
The blow, nor bring ourselves the ruin on.

EREENIA.

Fear courts the blow, Fear brings the ruin on. Needs must the chariot-wheels of Destiny Crush him who throws himself before their track, Patient and prostrate.

INDRA.

All may yet be well.

Who knows but Veeshnoo will descend and save, Once more incarnate?

EREENIA.

Look not there for help,

Nor build on unsubstantial hope thy trust. Our Father Casyapa hath said he turns 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 thunder-bolt 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 succes 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 accurst 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.

KAILYAL.

Take me to earth, O gentle Deveta!

Take me again to earth! This is no place Of rest for me! ... my Father still must bear he shall not bear it all alone;

His curse..

Take me to earth, that I may follow him!... I do not fear the Almighty Man! the Gods Are feeble here; but there are higher Powers Who will not turn their eyes from wrongs like ours; Take me to earth, O gentle Deveta! ..

12.

Saying thus she knelt, and to his knees she clung
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!
I must be with my Father in his pain. . .
Take me to earth, O Deveta, again!

13.

Indra with admiration heard the Maid.
O Child of Earth, he cried,

Already in thy spirit thus divine,

Whatever weal or woe betide,

Be that high sense of duty still thy guide, And all good Powers will aid a soul like thine. Then turning to Ereenia, thus he said,

Take her where Ganges hath its second birth, Below our sphere, and yet above the earth; There may Ladurlad rest beyond the power Of the dread Rajah, till the fated hour.

Dost thou tremble, O Indra, O God of the Sky,
Why slumber those thunders of thine ?
Dost thou tremble on high,.

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!