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.

What, Arvalan! hast thou so soon forgot

The grasp

of Pollear? Wilt thou still defy Therighteous 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 etherial 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 pain, and o'er his wounds deplore; Worse punishment hath Arvalan deserv'd,

And righteous Fate hath heavier doom in store.

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

And gently there he laid

The astonished 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.

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 prov'd 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 honour thee, and Evening Lingers in heaven.

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 ceas'd their influences; the Hours Stopt on the eternal round; Motion and Breath,

Time, Change, and Life and Death,

In sudden trance opprest, 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.

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,