Infinity may hide; for I can see There is it written, Maid, that thou and I, The Amreeta-drink divine Of immortality. Come, Maiden mine! Sit on the Swerga throne, his equal bride." 8. "Oh! never, never, Father!" Kailyal cried: Nature is never false; he wrongeth her! 9. At that reply, Kehama's darkening brow Bid her her stubborn will restrain, And tell her, while obedience is delayed, 10. "She needeth not my counsel," he replied; "And idly, Rajah, dost thou reason thus Of Destiny! for though all other things Were subject to the starry influencings, And bowed submissive to thy tyranny, The virtuous heart and resolute mind are free. Thus in their wisdom did the Gods decree, When they created man. Let come what will, This is our rock of strength: in every ill, Sorrow, oppression, pain, and agony, The spirit of the good is unsubdued, And, suffer as they may, they triumph still." 11. "Obstinate fools!" exclaimed the Mighty One, "Fate and my pleasure must be done, Take And ye resist in vain! your fit guerdon till we meet again!" So saying, his vindictive hand he flung Towards them, filled with curses; then on high Aloft he sprung, and vanished through the Sky. XIX. MOUNT CALASAY. 1. THE Rajah, scattering curses as he rose, Soared to the Swerga, and resumed his throne. Not for his own redoubled agony, Which now through heart and brain, Rushed to its seat, Ladurlad breathes that groan. Which, as the enemy vindictive fled, O'er all her frame with quick contagion spread. She, wondering at events so passing strange, And filled with hope and fear, And joy to see the Tyrant disappear, And glad expectance of her Glendoveer, Perceived not in herself the hideous change. His burning pain, she thought, had forced the groan Her father breathed; his agonies alone Were present to her mind: she clasped his knees, Wept for his Curse, and did not feel her own. 2. Nor, when she saw her plague, did her good heart, True to itself, even for a moment fail. "Ha, Rajah!" with disdainful smile she cries, "Mighty and wise and wicked as thou art, Still thy blind vengeance acts a friendly part. Shall I not thank thee for this scurf and scale Of dire deformity, whose loathsomeness, Surer than panoply of strongest mail, Arms me against all foes? Oh, better so, Better such foul disgrace, Than that this innocent face Should tempt thy wooing! That I need not dread: Nor ever impious foe Will offer outrage now, nor further woe Will beauty draw on my unhappy head; Safe through the unholy world may Kailyal go." 3. Her face, in virtuous pride, Was lifted to the skies, As him and his poor vengeance she defied; But earthward, when she ceased, she turned her eyes, As if she sought to hide The tear which in her own despite would rise. Did then the thought of her own Glendoveer Call forth that natural tear? Was it a woman's fear, A thought of earthly love, which troubled her? Like yon thin cloud amid the moonlight sky, That flits before the wind, And leaves no trace behind, The womanly pang passed over Kailyal's mind. "This is a loathsome sight to human eye!" Half shrinking at herself, the Maiden thought; "Will it be so to him? Oh, surely not! The immortal Powers, who see Through the poor wrappings of mortality, Behold the soul, the beautiful soul, within, Exempt from age and wasting maladies, And undeformed, while pure and free from sin. This is a loathsome sight to human eyes, But not to eyes divine; Ereenia, Son of Heaven, oh, not to thine!" 4. The wrongful thought of fear, the womanly pain, Had passed away; her heart was calm again. She raised her head, expecting now to see The Glendoveer appear: "Where hath he fled," quoth she, "That he should tarry now?" Oh! had she known Whither the adventurous Son of Heaven was flown, Strong as her spirit was, it had not borne The appalling thought, nor dared to hope for his return. 5. For he in search of Siva's throne was gone, In search of Siva's own abode, |