All CASYAPA. power to Lim, whereof The disembodied spirit in its state EREENIA. Look! she drinks The gale of healing from the blessed Groves. Hath touch'd 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. The waters of the Holy Spring 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, 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 up-sparkling stream. 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 fix'd, opening again her eye Thinking her mortal pilgrimage was past, That she had reach'd her heavenly home of rest, And these were Gods before her, Or spirits of the blest. 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 Seeva's sight. 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. Then in the Ship of Heaven, Ereenia laid The waking, wondering Maid; The Ship of Heaven, instinct with thought, display'd 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 lagg'd along their course, Around the living Bark enamour'd play, Swell underneath the sail, and sing before its way. That Bark, in shape, was like the furrowed shell |