These form the Trimourtee, or Trinity, as it has been called, of the Bramins. The allegory is obvious, but has been made for the Trimourtee, not the Trimourtee for the allegory; and these Deities are regarded by the people as three distinct and personal Gods. The two latter have at this day their hostile sects of worshippers: that of Seeva is the most numerous; and, in this poem, Seeva is represented as supreme among the Gods. This is the same God whose name is variously written Seeb, Sieven, and Siva; Chiven by the French; Xiven by the Portuguese; and whom European writers sometimes denominate Eswara, Iswaren, Mahadeo, Mahadeva, Rutren, according to which of his thousand and eight names prevailed in the country where they obtained their information.

God of the Elements.

his Paradise,-- one of the Hindoo heavens.

Lord of Hell, and Judge of the Dead.
Hell,

under the Earth,

And, like the Earth, of an octagon shape: its eight gates are guarded by as many Gods.

His statues are placed in the highways, and sometimes in a small, lonely sanctuary, in the streets and in the fields.

the Father of the Immortals.

the Inferior Deities.

Good Spirits.

Evil Spirits, or Devils.

the most beautiful of the Good Spirits.

the Grindouvers of Sonnerat.

THE CURSE OF KEHAMA.

I.

THE FUNERAL.

1.

MIDNIGHT, and yet no eye

Through all the Imperial City closed in sleep! Behold her streets ablaze

With light that seems to kindle the red sky, Her myriads swarming through the crowded ways! Master and slave, old age and infancy, All, all, abroad to gaze:

House-top and balcony

Clustered with women, who throw back their veils,
With unimpeded and insatiate sight
To view the funeral pomp which passes by,

As if the mournful rite

Were but to them a scene of joyance and delight.

2.

Vainly, ye blessed twinklers of the night!
Your feeble beams ye shed,

Quenched in the unnatural light which might out

stare

Even the broad eye of day;
And thou from thy celestial way
Pourest, O Moon! an ineffectual ray:
For, lo! ten thousand torches flame and flare
Upon the midnight air,

Blotting the lights of heaven

With one portentous glare.

Behold, the fragrant smoke, in many a fold
Ascending, floats along the fiery sky,
And hangeth visible on high,

A dark and waving canopy!

3.

Hark! 'tis the funeral trumpet's breath!
'Tis the dirge of death!

At once ten thousand drums begin,
With one long thunder-peal the ear assailing:
Ten thousand voices then join in,
And with one deep and general din
Pour their wild wailing.
The song of praise is drowned

Amid the deafening sound:

You hear no more the trumpet's tone, You hear no more the mourner's moan, Though the trumpet's breath and the dirge of death Swell with commingled force the funeral yell. But, rising over all, in one acclaim

Is heard the echoed and re-echoed name

Ten times ten thousand voices in one shout
Call "Arvalan!" The overpowering sound,
From house to house repeated, rings about,
From tower to tower rolls round.

4.

The death-procession moves along :
Their bald heads shining to the torches' ray,
The Bramins lead the way,
Chanting the funeral song.
And now at once they shout,
"Arvalan! Arvalan!"
With quick rebound of sound,
All in accordant cry,
"Arvalan! Arvalan!"

The universal multitude reply.

In vain ye thunder on his ear the name:

Which o'er his cheek a reddening shade hath shed.

But the motion comes froin the bearers' tread,

As the body, borne aloft in state,

Sways with the impulse of its own dead weight.