Of weakness could be made participant,
Kehama hath assigned, until his days
Of wandering shall be numbered.

EREENIA.

Look! she drinks

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

Hath touched 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 bowed its sacred head, And dropped 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 upsparkling 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 fixed, opening again her eye
She gazes silently,

Thinking her mortal pilgrimage was past, That she had reached her heavenly home of rest, And these were Gods before her, Or spirits of the blest.

7.

Lo! at Ereenia's voice,

A Ship of Heaven comes sailing down the skies. "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 Siva'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, displayed
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 lagged along their course, Around the living Bark enamoured play, Swell underneath the sail, and sing before its way.

2.

That Bark, in shape, was like the furrowed shell Wherein the Sea-Nymphs to their parent-King, On festal day, their duteous offerings bring.

Its 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 reached its orb of chrysolite. The sail, from end to end displayed, 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 flagged 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 filled her heart, Fear could not enter there:

For sure she deemed 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.

5.

The wings of Eagle or of Cherubim
Had seemed unworthy him;

Angelic power and dignity and grace Were in his glorious pennons; from the neck Down to the ancle reached their swelling web, Richer than robes of Tyrian dye, that deck Imperial Majesty;