1556. Robert Southey to Walter Savage Landor, 14 December 1808*

The Curse of Kehama

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May 28th 1806

Midnight, & not an eyeThro all the Imperial City closed in sleep,Her multitudes abroad, her streets ablaze!In vain, ye stars of Heaven Ye shed your feeble beamsQuenched in the unnatural light, more broad than day –And thou, O Queen of NightThine ineffectual ray.Ten thousand torches flame & flareUpon the midnight gloomBlotting the lights of HeavenThe fragrant smoke in many a surging foldUpward & still upward rolldAscendeth thro the yellow skyAnd hangeth visible on highA dark & waving canopy.

Hark! tis the funeral trumpets tone!Hark! tis the dirge of deathAt once ten thousand drumsSet up their thunder peal;At once ten thousand voices in one cryPour their wild wailing. In the deafening soundThe ring of praise is drownd;You hear no more the trumpets toneYou hear no more the mourners moan,Tho the trumpets breath & the song of deathMingle & swell the funeral yell.But rising over all in one acclaimIs heard the echoing nameArvalan! Arvalan!It rings distinctly thro the dizzy dinArvalan! Arvalan!It peals from house to house from tower to tower

The death procession moves alongTheir bare heads shining to the torches rayThe Bramins lead the wayChaunting the funeral song.And now at once they shoutArvalan! Arvalan!With quick rebound of soundIn one accordant cryArvalan! Arvalan!The universal multitude reply.

In vain ye thunder on his carThe ineffectual name,Would ye awake the dead?Borne upright in his palanquinLo! Arvalan is seen!A glow is on his face a lifelike red; –It is the crimson canopyWhich oer his cheek the reddening shade hath shedHe moves, he nods his head,It is the bearers treadThe body borne in stateSwaying obedient to its own dead weight.

Close following his dead son Kehama cameNor joining in the funeral songNor calling the dear name,Silent he only of that countless throng.King of the world, his slavesUnenvying now behold their wretched lord;With self-consoling joy they seeThat Nature in his pride hath smitten himThat now the Master of MankindIs made to feel that he himself is man.

Woe..woe! the wives of Arvalan!Young Azla, young Nealline!Their widow robes of whiteWith gold & jewels brightAs on a bridal day,Woe, woe! around their palanquinWith symphony & dance & songTheir kindred & their friends come onThe funeral song, the dance of sacrificeAnd next the victim slaves in long arrayRichly bedight to grace the fatal day;Move onward to their death.The trumpets stirring breathLifts their thin robes in every flowing foldAnd swells the woven goldTremulous & glittering to the torches flame.

A man & maid of aspect wan & wildThen side by side, by bowyers guarded, cameOh wretched father! oh unhappy child!Then were all eyes of all the throng exploringIs this the daring manWho raised his vengeful hand at Arvalan?Is this the wretched man condemned to feelKehama’s dreadful wrath?Then were all hearts of all the throng deploring;For not in that innumerable throngWas one who loved the dead; for who could knowWhat aggravated wrongProvoked the desperate blow.Far.. far behind, beyond all reach of sightIn ordered files the torches flow alongOne ever-lengthening line of moving light.Far.. far behind, tambour & trump & hornRoll on their undistinguishable sounds,Incessant as the dinOf mountain cataracts,And louder than the wrathful elementsWhen the winds rage over the wavesAnd Ocean roars to the storm.

And now upon the rivers brink they pauseThe funeral place is hereThere hath the trench been delvedAnd here with myrrh & auberginesThe sandal-pile bestrewn.Gently they rest the bier They wet the face of Arvalan.No sign of life the sprinkled drops excite;They feel his breast, no motion there,They feel his lips, no breath,For not with feeble nor with erring handHad that avenger driven the blow of death.Then with a doubled peal & deeper blastThe tambours & the trumpets sound on high,And with a last & loudest cryThey call on Arvalan –

Woe.. woe.. for Azla takes her seatUpon the funeral pile!Calmly she takes her seatAnd calmly on her lapShe lets the head of Arvalan be laidWoe.. woe.. Nealline!The young Nealline!They strip her ornaments away,Bracelet & anklet, ring & chain & zone;Around her neck they leaveThe marriage knot alone,That marriage band that whenYon waning moon was young,Around her virgin neckWith bridal joy was hung.Then with white flowers, the coronal of deathHer jetty looks they crown.Oh, sight of misery!You cannot hear her criesIn that mild dissonance; –But in her face you seeThe supplication & the agony, –The ineffectual prayer, the frantic shriek, –You see her straining armsAnd in her swelling throat the desperate strengthThat with vain effort struggles yet for lifeThey force her on,.. they bind her to the dead.

Then all drew back; aroundThe circling Bramins standEach lifting in his hand the ready torch.Alone the Father of the Dead advancedAnd lit the funeral pile

At once on every sideThe circling torches fallAt once on every sideThe fragrant oil is pouredAt once on every sideThe torrent flames rush up.Then hand in hand the victim slavesRoll in the dance around the funeral fire,Their garments flying foldsFloat inward to the flame.In drunken whirl they wheel aroundOne drops,.. another plunges now, –And still overwhelming dinThe tambours & the trumpets sound,..And still with shout & clap of handThe admiring multitude applaudAnd round & round intoxicateThe victims reel till all are fallen

That moment all was stillThe drums & clarions ceasedThe multitude were hush’d,Only the roaring of the flame was heard

2

Alone towards the Table of the DeadKehama moved; there on the altar stoneHoney & rice he spread,There with effort of collected voiceCalld the dead Arvalan.Lo! Arvalan appears.Only Kehama’s powerful eye beheldThe thin etherial form,Only the Rajah’s earReceived his feeble voice.And is this all my father nought but thisFor thy dear Arvalan!..This unavailing pomp,These empty rates of death!

In bitterness the Rajah heard,And groand, & bowed his head, & oer his face.Cowled the white mourning robe.‘Art thou not powerful,.. even like a God?And must I thro my years of wanderingShivering & naked to the Elements,In wretchedness awaitThe hour of Yamens wrath?I thought thou wouldst embody me anew,Undying as I am,Yea re create me!.. Father is this all,.And thou all mighty!That upbraiding toneAroused Kehama’s soul,Reproach not me! he cried,As grief half yielded to his rising wrath,Had I not spell secured thee from disease,Fire sword, all common accidents of man,..And thou! fool! fool! & by a stakeAnd by a peasants arm. –Even now when from reluctant heavenForcing new gifts & mightier attributes,So soon I should have quelld the Death Gods power!

Waste not thy rage on me, quoth Arvalan,I am in misery, Father! other souls,Predoomd to Indras Heaven, enjoy the dawnOf bliss; to them the tempered ElementsMinister joy; genial delight the SunSheds on their happy being, & the StarsEffuse on them benignant influences.And thus oer earth & air they roam at willAnd when the number of their days is fullGo fearlessly before the aweful throneBut I… all naked feeling & raw life …What worse than this hath Yamen’s Hell in store!If ever thou didst love me, mercy Father!Save me, – for thou canst save! the ElementsKnow & obey thy voiceKehamaThe ElementsShall torture thee no more;.. even while I speakAlready dost thou feel their power is gone.Fear not! I cannot call again the past.Fate hath made that its own, but Fate shall yieldTo me the future, & thy doom be fixedBy mine, not Yamen’s will. Meantime all powerWhereof thy feeble spirit can be madeParticipant, I give. Is there aught elseTo mitigate thy lot?ArvalanOnly the sight of vengeance;.. give me that!Vengeance, full worthy vengeance! not the strokeOf sudden punishment,.. no agonyThat spends itself & leaves the wretch at restBut lasting long revengeKehamaWhat boy? is that cup sweet? Then take thy fill

So as he spake, a glow of dreadful prideInflamed his cheek; with quick & angry strideHe moved toward the pile,And raisd his hand to hush the crowd, & criedBring forth the Murderer! at the Rajahs voiceCalmly & like a man whom fear had stunn’dLadurlad came, obedient to the call.But Kalyal started at the soundAnd shrieking with a womans fear turnd backAnd roll’d her eyes around,As if she lookd for aid, yet knewNo aid could there be found

It chanced that near her on the river-brinkThe sculptured form of Mariatale stood;It was an Idol roughly hewn in woodArtless & poor & rudeThe Goddess of the Poor was sheNone else regarded her with piety.But when that holy Image Kalyal view’dTo that she sprung, to that she clung,On her own Goddess with close-clasping armsFor life the Maiden hung.They seized the Maid with unrelenting graspThen bruised her tender limbs.She nothing yielding, to that only hopeClings with the strength of frenzy & despair;She screams not now, she breathes not nowShe sends not up one vow.She forms not in her soul one silent prayerAll thought, all feeling & all powers of lifeIn that one effort centered. Wrathful theyWith tug & strain would force the Maid away;Didst thou, O Mariatale, see their strife,In pity didst thou see the suffering Maid?Or was thine anger kindled that rude handsAssailed thy holy Image,.. for beholdThe holy Image shakes!Irreverently bold they deem the MaidRelaxed her stubborn hold.And now with force redoubled drag their preyAnd now the rooted Idol to their swayBends,.. yields, & now it falls. But now they screamFor lo! they feel the crumbling bank give wayAnd all together plunge into the stream.

She hath escaped my power Kehama criedShe hath escaped but thou art hereThe worser criminal!And on Ladurlad full he fixdThe terrors of his frown.The strong reflection of the flameLit his dark lineaments.Lit the protruded brow, the gathered frontThe steady eye of wrath.But while the dreadful silence yet enduredLadurlad summoned up his soul:Ere yet the voice of destinyThat trembled on the Rajahs lips was loos’dEager he interposedAs if despair had wakened him to hope;Mercy! oh mercy!.. only in defence,Only instinctively..Only to save my child I smote the Prince!King of the World be merciful,Crush me,.. but torture not!

The Man almighty deigned him no reply;Still he was silent;.. in no human moodOf mercy, in no hesitating thoughtsOf right or justice. At the length his browRelax’d, his lips unclosedAnd uttered from his heart.With the whole feeling of his soul enforcedThe gathered vengeance came.I charm thy lifeFrom the weapons of strifeFrom stone & from woodFrom fire & from floodFrom sickness I charm theeAnd Time shall not harm theeBut this Earth which is mineIts fruits shall deny theeAnd Water shall hear meAnd know thee & fly theeAnd the Winds shall not touch theeWhen they pass by thee And the Dews shall not cool theeWhen they fall nigh thee;And thou shall seek DeathTo release thee in vainAnd live in thy painWhile Kehama shall reign.With a fire in thy heartAnd a fire in thy brainAnd Sleep shall obey meAnd visit thee neverAnd the curse shall be on theeFor ever & ever –

There where the curse had stricken himThere stood the miserable manThere stood Ladurlad with loose hanging armsAnd eyes of idiot wandering.Was it a dream? alas, He heard the river flow;He heard the crumbling of the pile.He heard the wind which showeredThe thin white ashes round.

There motionless he stoodAs if he hoped it were a dreamAnd feared to move lest he should knowThe actual misery,And still at times he met Kehama’s eyeKehama’s eye that fastened on him still

3

The rites proceed againThe Rajah turns toward the pileAnew the murmurs of the crowd arise.Ladurlad starts,.. he looks around.What see’st thou wretched man?Ministrant Bramins, the long soldier train,The empty palanquinsThe dimly fading fire!And where is now his childHis best beloved Kalyal;.. where is sheThe solace & the joyOf years of widowhood?Hath she too perish’d? is he left aloneSo utterly alone to bear his curse!He staggers from the placeThe throng give way before himThey shun him as a manSmitten with pestilenceHe wanders on, he feels,A comfort in the change of circumstance And speeds with quickened step along the shore.By this the day had dawndLo! what is yonder in the streamDown the slow river floating slowIn distance indistinct?The eye of the childless is thereFollowing its motion thoughtlessly he gazed,Unknowing why gazed heNor conscious that he watched its way.Belike it is a treeUprooted by some sudden tempests swayOr from the hollow bankBy undermining currents swept away.But when he saw beside it swelling outA womans robe he startedAs one who in his graveHad heard an Angel’s call.Yea Mariatale! thou hast deigned to save,Yea, it is Kalyal, clinging senselessly To the good Image & upborneBy her preser<v>ing power.

Headlong in hope & in joyLadurlad dashed in the river.The Water knew Kehama’s curseThe Water shrunk before him.Blind to the miracleHe rushes to his daughter,And treads the river-depthsAnd now he clasps his child.

A shore of sand beyondSloped gently from the stream.Thither Ladurlad bore her clasping stillThe saving Goddess, there upon the sandHe laid the senseless maidAnd clasped her chilly breast.Soon did his touch perceive, –Perceive or fancy there,The first faint motion of returning life.He chafes her feet, he bares them to the sun;And now again upon her breastLays his hot hand & feels the stronger throb.And her lips tremble now,The breath comes palpably;Her quivering lids uncloseFeebly, & feebly fall.

So in her fathers armsLanguid & motionlessEven as the dead she lay;And painfully & slowly writhed at fitsAt fits to short convulsive starts was stung.Till when the struggle & strong agonyHad left her, quietly she layHer eyes now resting on Ladurlads face,Relapsing now, & now again unclosed.The look she fixed upon her fathers faceHad neither thought nor feeling,Senselessly composed she liesLike one who sleeps with open eyes.

Long he leant over herIn silence & in fear.Kalyal! at length he cried,Kalyal! in such a voiceAs a poor mother ventures fearfullyBeside her child’s sick bed,Half hoping that the sufferer still may sleep.My father! cried the MaidAwakening then to life,Thou here my father? the past recurredWhich dimly like a dream till nowConfused her troubled brain.But hope revived her. Hath he spared us then?Half rising she exclaimedHath the Almighty Man been merciful,That yet thou livest?.. Then Ladurlad groaned; –Oh! he hath laid a Curse upon my life,Hath sent a fire into my heart & brain,A burning & consuming fire!Air must not cool me, Water must not touch meEarth must withhold its fruitsSleep never visit me, nor DeathRelease me from his power.

This is a dream! quoth she,.. but with a fearWhich in her larger eye was visible..A dream!.. she rose & laid her handUpon her fathers brow.He could not bear the pressure there,.. he shrunkHe warded off her arm;As tho it were an enemy’s blow, he smoteHis daughters arm away.Her eye glanced down, she caught his robeOh misery! cried the Maiden, all is true!He bore me from the river-depths & yetHis garment is not wet.

4

Under a Cocoas feathery shadeReclined Ladurlad lies.And Kalyal on his lap her head hath laidTo hide her streaming eyes.The boatman sailing on his easy wayWith envious eye beheld them where they lay,For every herb & flowerWas fresh & fragrant with the morning dewSweet sung the birds in that delicious hour.And the cool gale of mornRuffling the silver waters as it blewSwept oer the moistened sand & raised no shower.Telling their tale of love he thought they layAt that lone hour, & who so blest as they!

But now the Sun in heaven is high,The little songsters of the skySit silently in the sultry hour,They pant & palpitate with pain;Their bills are open languidlyTo catch the passing airThey hear it not, they feel it notThe boatman as he sails alongAdmires what man so mad to linger thereFor yonder Cocoas shade behind them fallsA single spot upon the burning sand.

There all the morning hours Ladurlad laySilent & motionless;There motionless upon her fathers kneesThe silent Maid reclined.The man was still, pondering in steady thoughtAs tho it were anothers curseHis own mysterious doom;As tho it were a last nights tale,Before the cottage door –By some old beldam sung.While young & old assembled roundListened, as if by witchery bound,In fearful pleasure to her wonderous tongue.All seemed a dream at lengthA monstrous dream of things which could not beThat throbbing forehead,.. was it not full noon?And he was lying thereAll bare to the broad sun!What if he felt no wind?Why all the winds were hushd.Yonder tall rows of rice Erect & silent stood;The shadow of the Cocoas lightest plumeWas steady on the sandHe rose, he ran impatient to the bank,He stopt to break the visionary spell,He plunged his hand amid the stream.Kalyal with fearful eye pursued;She saw the start & shudder,She heard the half-uttered groan,..For the Water knew Kehama’s curse,The Water shrunk before him;His dry hand moved unmoistened thro the stream;As easily might that dry handHave clenched the winds of heaven.He is almighty then!The desperate wretch exclaimed.Air knows him,.. Water knows him,.. Sleep & DeathWill do his dreadful will;And Veeshnoo has no power to saveNor Seeva to destroy!

Oh! wrong not them! quoth KalyalOur hope is all in them!For lighter wrongs than oursAnd lighter crimes than hisHave drawn the Incarnate down.Already on their mercyThe Immortals have beheld us!..And then she clasped the IdolAnd calld on Mariatale,..Twas Thou, exclaimed the MaidenTwas my own Goddess saved me.Here there my fatherRaise the Preserver!The Mighty of the EarthDespise her holy rites,..She loves the poor who serve her.Set up her Image hereFor jealously would she resentNeglect & thanklessness, -So saying on her knees the MaidBegan the pious toil.Soon their joint labour scoops the easy soil,They raise the Image up with reverent handAnd heap around its rooted base the sand.O Mariatale! cried the Maid,My Goddess, pardon thouThe unwilling wrong that I no more Can do thy daily service as of yore.The flowers which last I wreathed around thy brow,Are withering there, & never nowShall I at eve adore thee,And swimming round with arms outspreadPoise the full pitcher on my headIn dextrous dance before thee;While underneath the reedy shed at restMy father sate the evening rites to viewAnd blest thy name & blestHis daughter too!

Then heaving from her heart a heavy sigh,O Goddess from that happy home, cried sheThe Almighty Man hath forced us,And homeward with the thought unconsciouslyShe turned her dizzy eye, but there on highWith many a dome & pinnacle & spireThe summits of the Golden PalacesBlazed in the dark blue sky aloft, like fire.Father away! she cried, away!Why linger we so near?For not to him hath nature givenThe thousand eyes of Deity,Always & every where with open sightTo persecute our flight.Away.. Away! she saidAnd seized her fathers hand, & like a childHe followed where she led

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Evening comes on; arising from the streamHomeward the tall flamingo wings his flight,And where he sails athwart the setting beamHis scarlet plumage glows with deeper light –The watchman at the wished approach of nightGladly forsakes the field, where he all dayTo scare the winged plunderers from their prey With shout & sling, on yonder clay built heightHath borne the sultry ray.Hark! at the Golden PalacesThe Bramin strikes the hour.For leagues & leagues around the brazen soundRolls thro the stillness of departing dayLike thunder, far away.

The Moon is up, still paleAmid the lingering light.One little cloud ascending in the EastSails slowly on & spreads & darkens round.No hospitable house no travellers homeInvites the wanderers; weary with long toilThe wretched father & the wretched childLie down amid the wild.And there beneath the woodland shadeOn Kalyals lap his head Ladurlad laid,And never word he spakeNor heaved he one complaining sighNor groaned he with his misery,But silently for her dear sakeEndured the raging painAnd now the Moon was hid on highNo stars were glimmering in the sky,She could not see her fathers eyeHow red with burning agony;She did not feel his throbbing brains..Perhaps it may be cooler now She hoped,.. & longd to touch his browWith gentle hand, yet did not dareTo lay the painful pressure there.Now forward from the tree she bent,And anxiously her head she leantAnd listened to his breath;Ladurlads breath was short & quickNot regular it came –And like the slumber of the sickIn pantings still the same.Oh! if he sleeps!.. her lips uncloseIntently listening to the sound,That equal sound so like repose.Still quietly the sufferer lies.He neither moves, nor groans, nor sighs,Doth satiate cruelty bestowThis little respite to his woeOr are there Gods who look below?

Perchance thought Kalyal, willingly deceivedThe dreadful Rajah hath relaxed his wrathOr Mariatale’s power divineAssuaged the anguish agony.That was a hope which filled her gushing eyeAnd made her heart in silent thanks & prayerYearn to the Goddess. In that joyful thoughtAgainst the tree her weary head reclining She to her fathers breathStill hearkened, at first with an effortSoon in forgetful fitsWith starts of sudden remembrance.Worn with long watching at lengthShe closed her heavy eyes & fell asleep.

Vain was her hope,.. he did not rest from painThe Curse was burning in his brain.She thought he slept.. alasSleep did not visit himSleep knew Kehama’s curse.The dews of night fell round;They never bathed Ladurlads browThey knew Kehamas curse.The night breeze is abroadAloft it moves among the stirring leaves;He only heard the windIt never fann’d his cheekIt knew Kehamas curse.

He lay & listened if his daughter sleptFor wherefore should that dear one see & shareHis hopeless misery? why should he endureReflected wretchedness?Better alone to suffer,.. he could bearBetter the burthen of his curse alone;So happy too might she as one deemed deadEscape the Rajahs wrathGently he lifts his head,.. she does not move;Gently he rises up,.. she slumbers still;Gently he steals on silent feet away:But then she started, thenShe felt him gone; she calledAnd heard no answer save his step in flight.A moment doubtful of the soundShe listened till the step was heard no moreThen with a thrilling shriek she rushes on,..The darkness & the mood impede her way,..She lifts he voice againLadurlad! & againStraining its tone to hoarseness,.. far awaySelfish in miseryHe heard the call & faster sped his flight.

She leans against the tree whose jutting boughSmote her so rudely. Her poor heartHow audibly it pants!Her breath how short xxx <&> painful!Hark! all is still around herAnd the night so utterly dark!She opened her eyes & she closed themAnd the blackness & blank were the same.

The howl of the tyger wakened herFrom that strange & deathy dreariness, –She starts & her head instinctively Turnd to the dreadful sound.Far off the tyger howld,A nearer horror met the maidens view;There stood before her a dim form,A human form, amid the darkness shaped,Dim-lighted like the hazeThat sweeps athwart the skyWhen the red moon looks ominous in heaven.

That spectre form had fixdHis eyes upon her fullThe light which shone in themWas like a light from HellAnd it grew deeper, kindling as they gazed.She could not turn her looksFrom that infernal gaze;It fixed & fastened them,It palsied every power,Sense, memory, thought were gone.She heard not now the tygers louder howl,She thought not on her father now,Her cold hearts-blood ran back;Her hand lay senseless on the bough it claspdHer feet were motionless,Her fascinated eyesLike the stone eyeballs of a statue fixd,Yet conscious of the sight that blasted them.

The wind is abroad,It scatters the clouds,The darkness is driven before it,The stars shine out in their beautyAnd the moon is bright & full.Distinct & darkening in her beamsThat spectre form appears.The moonlight gives to view his form & faceThe living face of Arvalan!His hands are spread to clasp her.As if a lightning strokeHad burst the spell of fearAll franticly she fled.By the way-side there stood an open faneOf Pollear, gentle God, the travellers friend;With elephantine headThere stood his Image, such as when he seized The rebel Giant, & with mighty trunkWreathed round his impotent bulk, & on his tusksImpaled, upheld him between earth & heaven.Thither she sped her flight,And now upon the holy ground,Yea.. even before the altar,Hath Arvalan with arm of fleshSeized her. That instant the insulted GodCaught him aloft, & from his sinuous graspAs if from some tort catapult let looseOver the forest hurled with shattering fall.She tarried not to see what power had saved;Breathless & faint she flies;She stumbles at the rootOf yonder manchineel,And falls beneath the tree whose shade is death.

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6

Her face upon the groundHer arms at length extended,Pale as the dead & senseless as the dead,There Kalyal lies beneath the machineel.What if the prowling tyger now should snuffThe scent of human flesh?Alas Death needs not now his ministry,..The balefull boughs hang over her,The poison dews descend.

It was a night so beautifulIt might have calmed the gay to thoughtlessness And given the wretched a delight in tears.One of the Glendoveers The loveliest race of all the tribes of heavenWas floating in the moonlight sky.He saw the Maid where like a corpse she lay,And stoopt his flight, descendingTo lift her from the earth.Her cheeks are pale & livid,Her heavy lids half-closed,Down hang her loose arms lifelessly.

With timely pity touchd for one so young,The gentle GlendoveerClose holds her to his breast,And bounds aloft & flies his sinewy wings.He bears her there where HernakootThe Holy Mountain rising from mid earthShines like the throne of Evening in mid heaven.He bears her to the blessed groveWhere dwells old Casyapa, the sire of Gods

The Father of the Immortals sateWhere underneath his Tree of LifeThe fountain of the Sacred River roseThe Father of the Immortals smiledBenignant on his son.Knowest thou Ereenia whom thou bringest hereA Mortal to thex blessed Grove?EreeniaI found her in the groves of earthBeneath a poison-treeThus lifeless as thou seest herIn pity have I brought her to these bowers,Not erring, Father, by that smile!By that benignant eye!Casyapa.What if the Maid be sinful? if her waysWere ways of darkness, & her death predoomdTo that black hour of midnight when the MoonHath turnd her face away:Unwilling to beholdThe unhappy end of guilt?Ereenia.Then what a lie my Sire, were written hereIn these fair characters! but she had died Now in the moonlight, in the eye of heaven,If I had left so fair a flower to fade.But thou, All-knowing as thou art,Why asketh thou of me?Casyapa.Knowest thou Kehama?Ereena.The Almighty Man!Who knows him & his tremendous powerThe Tyrant of the Earth:The Enemy of Heaven!Casyapa.Fearest thou the Rajah?Ereena.He is terrible.Casyapa.Yea he is terrible! such power hath heThat Hope hath entered HellThe Asuras & the Spirits of the Damn’dAcclaim their Hero. Yamen with the mightOf Godhead scarce can quellThe rebel race accurst.Half from their beds of torture they uprise And half uproot their chains:Is there not fear in Heaven?The Souls that are in bliss suspend their joy.The danger hath disturbdThe calm of Deity.And Brama fears, & Veeshnoo turns his faceIn doubt to Seeva’s throneEreenia.I have seen Indra a tremble at his prayersAnd dreadful penances,Which claim & wrest from Seeva power so vastEven Seeva cannot grant & be secureCasyapa.And darest thou Ereenia, braveThe Almighty Tyrants power?EreeniaI.. Father?Casyapa.Take her else again to Earth!Cast her in the tygers path;Or where the death-dew dropping TreeMay work Kehama’s will.Ereenia.Never!Casyapa.Then meet his wrath! for he, even heHath set his wanton foot upon this worm!Ereenia.I knew her not how wretched or how fair,When here I wafted her; poor Child of EarthShall I forsake thee, seeing thee so fair,So wretched? O my father, let the MaidDwell in the sacred grove!CasyapaThat must not beFor Force & Evil then would enter hereGanges the holy stream which cleanses sinWould flow from hence polluted in its springsAnd they who gasp upon its banks in deathFeel no salvation… Pity & peaceAnd wisdom these are mine; but not the powerWhich could protect her from the Almighty Man,Nor when the spirit of dead Arvalan,Should persecute her here to glut his rage,To heap upon her yet more agony,And ripen more damnation for himselfEreenia.Dead Arvalan?Casyapa.He hath his fathers powerTo rule the Elements, until his daysOf wandering shall be numbered.Ereenia.Look! she drinksThe gale of healing from the blessed groves!She stirs! & lo! her handHath touched the Holy River in its sourceWho would have shrunk if aught impure were nighCasyapa.The Maiden of a truth, is pure from sin.

The Waters of the Holy SpringRound the hand of Kalyal rise.The Tree of Life hangs oer herDropping dews of healing;She breathes the unpolluted galeThat never yet hath swept the earth,And her hearts-blood at every breathFreer flows & purer.A life-bloom reddens now her dark-brown cheekAnd lo! her eyes unclose,Dark as the depths of Ganges spring profoundWhen night hangs over it.Bright as the moon beams where they fall.And quiver on its clear up-sparkling wave.

Soon she let fall her lidsAs one who waking from a dream of joyWould fain return to sleep & dream again She moves not,.. fearful to disturbThe deep & full delight.The feeling & the flow of life & healthThat lived in every limbAnon in wonder fixedShe gazes silentlyThinking her mortal pilgrimage was pastAnd these were Gods before herOr Spirits of the blest.

Behold at Ereenia’s commandA bark of the Swans comes down.Where wouldst thou bear her? quoth the Sire of GodsEreenia.To Indras ParadiseTo my own bower of bliss.Foe of her foe the Sorgon KingWill shield her in his realm.Should Indra fail thro fear,Weak as I am even I Stand forth in Seevas sight!Casyapa.Trust thou in him, & stand thou fearless forthMy blessing be upon thee. O my son.

7.

Then in the Ship of Heaven Ereenia laidThe waking wonderous Maid.The Ship of Heaven instinct with thought displaydIt’s living sail & glides along the sky.On either side in wavy tideThe clouds of morn along its path divide,The winds who swept in wild career on highBefore its presence check their charmed force;The winds that loitering laggd along their courseAround the living Bark enamourd play,Swell underneath the sail & sing before its way.

That Bark in shape was like the furrowed shellWherein the Sea Nymphs to their parent-KingOn festal day, their duteous offerings bring.Its hue? – go watch the last green lightEre Evening yields the western sky to Night,Or fix upon the Sun thy strenuous sightTill thou hast reach’d its orb of chrysolite.The sail from end to end display’dBent like a rainbow oer the Maid.An Angels head with visual eyeThro trackless space directs its chosen way,Nor aid of wing, nor feet, nor finRequires to voyage oer the obedient sky.Smooth as the swan when not a breeze at evenDisturbs the surface of the silver stream.Thro air & sunshine sails the Ship of Heaven.Recumbent there the Maiden glides along,How swift she feels not, tho the swiftest windHad flaggd in flight behind.She felt no fear, for that etherial airWith such new life & joyaunce filld her heartFear could not enter there;For sure she deemd her mortal part was oer,And she was sailing to his heavenly shore,And that angelic form who moved beside,Was some good Spirit come <sent> to be her guide

Eye hath not seen, nor Painters hand pourtraydForm so divine as floats beside the Maid.His wings were plumeless, from the neck displaydDown to the ankle spread their long expanse.Their colour like the winters moonless skyWhen all the stars of midnights canopyShine forth, or like the azure deep of mornReflecting back to heaven a brighter blue.Thro the broad-membrane branchd a pliant bone,Whose veins like interwoven silver shone,Or like shells of lovelier pearly hueNow with strong stroke he smites the buoyant air,Now on still wing expanded shoots along,Careering on his rapid waySwift as the chariot wheels of Day.

Thro air & sunshine sails the Ship of HeavenFar far beneath them liesThe gross & heavy atmosphere of Earth.Kalyal inhales the Swerga galesAnd every breath infuses new delightAnd now toward its port the Ship of HeavenSwift as a falling meteor slopes its flight,Yet gently on the dews of night that gemAnd do not bend the hair-bells slenderest stem:Daughter of Earth, Ereenia cried, alight!Lo this thy place of restLo here my Bower of Bliss!

He furld his azure wingsThe happy Kalyal knew not where to gaze.Her eyes around in wondering pleasure roamNow turnd upon the lovely Glendoveer,Now on his heavenly homeHere rest in peace, Ereenia cried,And I will guard thee feeble as I am,I trust the Rajah shall not harm thee here.KalyalAlas thou fearest him!Immortal as thou art, thou fearest him!I thought that Death had saved me from his powerNot even the dead are safe!EreeniaLong years of life & happiness O Maiden, yet be thine!From death I saved thee, from all enemiesWill save thee, while the Swerga is secureKalyalNot me alone O gentle Deveta!I have a father suffering upon EarthA persecuted, wretched, poor, good man,For whose strange miseryThere is no human helpAnd none but I dare comfort himBeneath Kehamas curseO gentle Deveta protect him too!EreeniaDidst thou not say beneath Kehamas curse?Come plead thyself to Indra! words like thineMay win their way, reinvigorate his heart,And make him yet put forth his arm & wieldThe thunder, while the thunder is his own.

Then to the Garden of the Deity Ereenia led the Maid.In the mid garden towered a giant tree,Rock-rooted on a mountain there it grew,Reard its unrivalled head on highAnd stretched a thousand branches on the sky,Drinking with all its leaves celestial dew.Adown the mountain sidesA thousand torrents pour their glittering tidesAnd form an ample <spacious> lake which spread below.That great Tree it was the living WellFrom whence the torrents flow.For still in one perpetual shower,From every leaf of all its ample bowerLike diamond drops etherial waters fellForth winding from the Lake belowA thousand rivers watered Paradise.Full to the trunk yet never overflowing They coold the amorous gales which ever blowingOer their melodious surface loved to stray,Then winging back their wayTheir load of vapour to the Tree convey,And ending thus where they began,And feeding thus the source from whence they came,The eternal rivers of the Swerga ranFor ever renovate, yet still the same.

On that etherial Lake whose waters lieBlue & transpicuous, like another sky,The Elements had reard their Kings abode.A strong controlling power their strife suspendedAnd there their hostile essences they blendedTo form a Palace worthy of the God,Built on the Lake the waters were its floor,And here its walls were water archd with fire,And here were fire with water vaulted oer.And here were lucid cloud with both embraced,And here of rainbow interlacedWith water, cloud & flame.And towers & pinnacles of fireRound watery cupolas aspire,And fiery domes on towers of rainbow rest,And roofs of cloud are turretted aroundWith flame, & shafts of cloud with flame are boundAnd domes of water here with cloud are crowndAnd flamey tongues on spires of water quiver.Here too the Elements for ever change.Fire climbs the watry cupolas & roundThe courts of cloud meanders like a river,The watry cupolas descendTo bear on liquid wells the cope of fire,And clouds roll down the flaming halls to floorAnd water rises up the rainbow tower.Pursued in love & thus in love pursuingIn endless revolutions here they roll,For ever thus their wonderous work renewingThe parts all shifting, still unchanged the wholeEven we on earth at intervals descryGleams of the glory, streaks of glowing lightOpening of heaven, & streams that flash at nightAlong the northern sky.

Impatient of delay Ereenia caughtThe Maid aloft, & spread his wings abroad,And bore her to the presence of the GodThere Indra sate upon his throne reclindWhere Devetas adore him,The lute of Nared warbling in the windAll tones of magic harmony combindTo settle his troubled mind,While the dark eyed Asparas danced beforeIn vain the God Musician playd,In vain the dark-eyed Nymphs of HeavenTo charm him with their beauties in the danceAnd when he saw the mortal Maid appearLed by the heroic Glendoveer,A deeper trouble filld his countenance.What hast thou done Ereenia said the God,Bringing a mortal here! –And while he spake his eye was on the MaidNo hope to Kalyal it convey’dAnd yet it struck no fear,There was a sad displeasure in the air,But pity too was there.

Ereenia.Hear me O Indra! On the lower earthI found this child of man, by which mishapI know not, lying in the lap of death.Aloft I bore her to our Fathers grove,Not having other thought than when the galeOf bliss had heald her, upon earth againTo leave its lovely daughter. Other thoughts Rose when from Casyapa I learnt her doomFor she is one who groans beneath the powerOf the dread Rajah, terrible alikeTo men & Gods. His son dead Arvalan,Armd with that portion Indra of thy powerAlready wrested from thee, persecutesThe Maid, the helpless one – the innocent.What then behoved me but to waft her hereTo my own Bower of Bliss? what other choice?The accursed spirit of dead ArvalanWho rules the lower elements, not yetHath power to enter here, – here thou art yetSupreme, & yet the Swerga is thine own.IndraNo child of man, Ereenia, in the BowerOf Bliss may sojourn, till he hath put offHis mortal part, for on mortalityTime & Infirmity & Death attendClose followers they, & in their mournful trainSorrow & Pain & Mutability.Did they find entrance here, we should beholdOur joys, like earthly summers, pass awayThose joys perchance may pass, another handMay seize my sceptre, & unparadise The Swerga, – but Ereenia if we fallLet it be irresistible DestinyThat lays us prostrate; let us not inviteThe blow, nor bring ourselves the ruin on.EreeniaFear courts the blow, Fear brings the ruin on.Needs must the chariot-wheels of DestinyCrush him who lays him down before their trackPatient & prostrate.IndraAll may yet be well.Who knows but Veeshnoo will descend & save,Once more incarnate?Ereenia.Hope not thou for thatOur father Casyapa has said he looksIn doubt to Seeva, even as thou toward him.Strive for thyself & thou mayst rightly lookTo higher Powers for aid. Oh that mine armCould wield yon lightnings which play idly there,In inoffensive radiance oer thy head:The Swerga should not need a champion now,Nor Earth implore deliverance still in vain.Indra.Thinkest thou I want the will? rash son of HeavenWhat if my arm be feeble as thy ownAgainst the dread Kehama? – He went onTriumphant in his wide career of war,Till his victorious car had measured earthIn its career, & all the Kings of menBowd to his yoke. No worse ambition yetPossessd him, then to ride upon their necks,And crown his conquests with the sacrificeWhich should proclaim him Master of the WorldSole Rajah, the Omnipresent below.The steam of that portentous sacrifice Arose to Heaven, then was to strike,Then in the consummation of his pride,His height of glory, then the thunder boltShould have gone forth & hurld him from his throneDown to the fiery floor of PadalonTo everlasting burnings, agonyEternal, & remorse that knows no endThe hour went by, grown impious with successBy prayer & penances he wrested nowSuch power from Fate, that soon if Seeva turn not His eyes on earth, & no Avatar save,Soon will he seize the Swerga for his own,Roll on thro Padalon his chariot wheels,Tear up the adamantine bolts which locksThe accurst Asuras to its burning floor.And force the drink of ImmortalityFrom Yamens charge. Vain were it now to strive,My thunder cannot pierce the sphere of powerWherewith as with a girdle, he is bound.Kalyal.Take me to Earth, O gentle Deveta!Take me again to Earth! – there is no hopeIn Heaven for me! – my father still must bearHis curse, he shall not bear it all alone.Take me to earth that I may follow him –I do not fear the Almighty Man! – the GodsAre feeble here, – but there are other PowersWho will not turn their eyes from wrongs like oursTake me to Earth O gentle Deveta!

Saying thus she knelt & to his knees she clung,And bowd her head, in tears & silence praying.Rising anon around his neck she flungHer arms, & there with folded hands she hung,And fixing on the guardian GlendoveerHer eyes, more eloquent than Angels tongue,Again she cried there is no comfort here!I must be with my father in his pain –Take me to earth O Deveta again!

Indra with admiration heard the MaidO Child of Earth, he cried,Already in thy spirit thus divineWhatever weal or woe betide Be that high sense of duty still thy guideAnd all Good Powers will aid a soul like thineThen turning to Ereenia thus he said,Take her where Ganges hath its second birthBelow our sphere & yet above the earthThere may Ladurlad rest beyond the powerOf the dread Rajah, till the fated hour.

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8.

Dost thou tremble O Indra – O God of the SkyDost thou tremble on high for thy throne?Many a day to Seevas shrineHis daily victim hath Kehama led.Nine & ninety days are fledNine & ninety steeds have bled,One more the rite will be compleat.This victim more, the dreadful day.Then will the impious Rajah seize thy seat.And wrest thy thunder-sceptre from thy sway.Along the mead the hallowed steedYet bends at liberty his way, –Noon shall see the victim bleed,His consummating blood at noon will flowO day of woe! above, below,That blood confirms the Almighty Tyrants power.Thou tremblest O Indra, O God of the Sky,Thou, tremblest on high for thy throne!But where is xx Veeshnoo at this hour,But where is Seeva’s eye?Is then the Destroyer blind,Is the Preserver careless for mankind!

Along the meed the hallowed steedStill wanders wheresoever it willOer hill or dale or plain; –No human hand hath trickd that maneFrom which he shakes the morning dew,His mouth has never felt the rein,His lips have never frothd the chain,For pure of blemish & of stain,His neck unbroken to mortal yokeLike Nature free the steed must beFit offering for the Immortals he.A year & day the steed must strayWherever chance may guide his wayBefore he bleed at Seevas shrine; –The year & day hath past awayNor touch of man hath marrd the rite divine.And now at noon the steed must bleedThe perfect rite to day must force the meedWhich Fate reluctant shudders to bestow –Then must the Swerga GodYield to the Tyrant of the world belowThen must the Devetas obeyThe Rajahs rod & groan beneath his hateful sway.

The Sun rides high, the hour is nighThe multitude who long,Lest night should mar the rite,In circle wide on every sideHave kept the steed in sight,Contract the circle now & draw him on,Drawn in long files before the temple courtThe Rajahs arches flank an ample space,Here moving him onward still they drive him near,Then opening give him way to enter here.Behold him how he starts & flings his head!On either side in glittering order spreadThe archers ranged in narrowing lines appear.The multitude behind close-in the rearWith moonlike bend, & silently awaitThe rite that shall from Indra wrest his power.In front with far-stretched walls, & many a towerTurret & dome & pinnacle elate,The huge Pagoda seems to load the land;And there before the gateThe Bramin band expectant stand,The axe is ready for Kehama’s hand Hark! from the Golden PalacesThe Bramin strikes the hour.One – two – three – four – thrice told he struckOne – two – again, – one moreIs wanting yet, twill soon be due;The Sun rides high, the moon is nigh,And silently as if spell-boundThe multitude expect await the sound.

Lo how the steed with sudden startTurns his quick head to every part, –Long files of men on every side appearA sight might well his heart affright,And yet the silence that is hereInspires a stronger fear, –For not a murmur, not a soundOf voice, or motion, rises round,No stir is heard in all that mighty crowd.He neighs & from the temple wallThe neigh reechoes loud,Loud & distinct as from a hillAcross a lonely vale when all is still.

Within the temple on his golden throneReclined Kehama lies,Watching with steady eyesThe perfumd light which burns before his sightAnd measures out the hours.On either hand his eunuchs stand,Freshening with fans of peacock-plumes the airWhich redolent of all rich gums & flowers,Seems overcharged with sweets to stagnate thereLo the time-tapers flame ascending slowCreeps up its coil toward the fated line,Kehama rises & goes forth,And from the altar ready where it liesHe takes the axe of sacrifice.

That instant from the crowd a man sprang outTo lay upon the steed his hand profane.A thousand archers draw at him their bowsAnd with their shower of arrows fill the skyIn vain they fall upon him fast as rain,He bears a charmed life which may defyAll weapons, & the darts which round him fly,As from an adamantine panoplyRepelled & blunted, fall & strew the groundKehama claspd his hands in agony,And saw him grasp the hallowed coursers maneSpring up with sudden bound,And with a frantic cryAnd madmans gesture gallop round & roundThey seize, they drag him to the Rajahs feet.What doom will now be his? what vengeance meetWill he who knows no mercy now require?The obsequious guards around with blood-hound eyeLook for the word, in slow-consuming fireBy piece-meal death to make the wretch expire,Or hoist his living carcase, hookd on high,To feed the fowls & insects of the sky;Or if aught worse inventive crueltyTo the remorseless heart of royaltyMight prompt, accursed instruments they standTo work the wicked will with wicked hand.Far other thoughts were in the multitude,Pity & human feelings held them still;And stiffled sighs & groans supprest were there,And many a secret curse & inward prayerCalld on the insulted Gods to save mankind.Expecting some new crime in fear they stood,Some horror which would make the natural bloodStart, with cold shudderings thrill the shrinking heart,Whiten the lips, & make the abhorrent eyeRoll back & close, prest in for agony.How then fared he for whom the mighty crowdSuffered in spirit thus? how then fared he?A ghastly smile was on his lip, his eyeGlard with a ghastly hope as he drew nighAnd cried aloud – yes Rajah it is I!And wilt thou kill me now? –The countenance of the Almighty Man Fell when he knew Ladurlad, & his browWas clouded with despite, as one asham’d.That wretch again! indignant he exclaim’d,And smote his forehead, & stood silentlyAwhile in wrath. Then with a savage smile –Let him go free, he cried – he hath his CurseAnd vengeance upon him can wreck no worse, –But ye who let him smite, – tremble ye!

He bade the archers pile their weapons there,No manly courage filld the slavish band,No sweetening vengeance rous’d a brave despair.He calld his horsemen then & gave commandTo hem the offenders in & hew them down.Ten thousand scymetars at once uprear’dFlash up, like waters glowing to the sun.A second time the fatal brands appeardLifted aloft, they glittered then no more,Their light was gone, their splendour quenchd in gore,At noon the massacre begunAnd night closed in before the work of death was done

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9

The steam of slaughter from that place of bloodSpread oer the xxx tainted sky.Vultures for whom the Rajahs tyrannySo oft had furnished food, from far & nighSped to the lure, aloft with joyful cryWheeling around they hovered over head,Or on the temple perchd with greedy eyeImpatient watchd the dead.Far off the tygers in the inmost inmost woodHeard the death shriek, & snuffd the scent of bloodThey rose & thro the covert went their way,Couchd round the forest edge & waited for their prey.

He who had sought for death went wandering on,The hope which had inspird his heart was gone,Yet a wild joyaunce still inflamd his face,A smile of vengeance, a triumphant glowWhere goes he? – whither should Ladurlad go?Unwittingly the wretches footsteps trace Their wonted path toward his dwelling-place,And wandering on unknowing whereHe starts at finding he is there.Behold his lowly home,By yonder broad-boughd plane oershaded.There Mariatales image stands,And there the garland twind by Kalyals handsAround its brow hath faded.The peacocks at their masters sightQuick from the leafy thatch alight,And hurry round & search the ground,And veer their glancing necks from side to sideExpecting from his handTheir daily dole which erst the Maid supplied,Now all too long denied.But as he gazed aroundHow strange did all accustomed sights appear,How differently did each familiar soundCome to his altered ear.Here stood the marriage bowerReard in that happy hourWhen he with festal joy & youthful prideHad brought Yedillian home, his beauteous brideLeaves not its own & many a borrowed flowerHad then bedeckd it, withering ere the nightBut he who lookd from that auspicious dayFor years of long delight,And would not see the marriage bower decay,There planted & nurst up with daily careThe sweetest herbs that scent the ambient air,And traind them round to live & flourish thereNor when dread Yemens willHad calld Yedillian from his arms away.Ceasd he to tend the marriage bower, but stillSorrowing had drest it, like a pious riteDue to the monument of past delight.

He took his wonted seat before the door,All here was as yore,Here were the flowers which Kalyal wont to rearFor Mariatales browDrooping their heads overblown, untended now.This was the plane his noontide seat oerbowering,Yonder the tank, & there The large-leaved lotus on the waters flowering.There from the intolerable heatThe buffaloes retreat,Only their nostrils rais’d to meet the air,Amid the sheltering element they rest.Impatient of the sight he closed his eyes,And bowd his burning head, & in despairCalling on Indra, – Thunder-God, he cries,Thou owest to me alone, this day thy throne,Be grateful, & in mercy strike me dead.

Despair had rousd him to that hopeless prayer,Yet thinking on the heavenly Powers, his mindDrew comfort; & he rose & gathered flowers,And twind a crown for Mariatales brow,And taking then her withered garland downReplaced it with the blooming coronalNot for my self, the unhappy father cried,Not for my self, O mighty one, I prayAccursed as I am beyond thy aid.But oh be gracious to that dear MaidWho crownd thee with these garlands day by day,And danced before thee aye at eventide,In beauty & in pride,O Mariatale, wheresoeer she strayAlone & wretched, still be thou her guide

A loud & fiendish laugh repliedScoffing his prayer. Aloft as from the airThe sound of insult came, – he looked & thereThe visage of dead Arvalan was seen.Only his face amid the clear blue sky,With long-drawn lips of insolent mockery,And eyes whose lurid glareWas like a sulphur fireMingling with darkness ere its flames expire.

Ladurlad knew the face, enraged to seeThe cause of all his misery,He stopt & lifted from the groundA stake, whose fatal point was black with blood,The same wherewith his hand had dealt the woundWhen Arvalan in hour with evil fraughtFor violation seized the shrieking Maid.Thus armd in act to strike again he stoodAnd twice with inefficient rage essaydTo smite the impassive shade.The lips of scorn their mockery laugh renewd,And Arvalan put forth a hand, & caughtThe sunbeam, & condensing there its lightUpon Ladurlad turnd the burning stream.Vain cruelty! the stakeFell in white ashes from his hold, – but heEndurd no added pain, his agonyWas full & at the height,The burning stream of radiance nothing harmd himA fire was in his heart & brain;And from all other painKehama’s curse had charmd him.

Anon the Spirit waved a second handDown rushd the obedient whirlwind from the sky,Scoopd up the sand like smoke, & from on highShed the hot shower upon Ladurlads head.Whereer he turns, the Hand accurst is there,East –West, & North & South, on every sideThe Hand accursed waves in air to guideThe dizzying storm, ears, nostrils, eyes & mouthIt fills & cloaks, & cloying every poreTaught him new torments might be yet in storeWhere shall he turn to fly? – behold his houseIn flames! uprooted lies the marriage tower,The Goddess buried by the sandy shower.Blindly with staggering step he reels about,And still the accursed Hand pursuedAnd still the lips of scorn their mockery laugh renewd.

What Arvalan! hast thou so soon forgotThe grasp of Pollear? wilt thou still defyThe righteous Powers of Heaven, or knowst thou notThat 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 athwart the sky,He comes & drives with angel arm the blow,Oft have the Asurias in the wars of Heaven,Felt that keen sword by arm angelic drivenAnd fled before it from the fields of lightTwice through the vulnerable shadeEreenia drives the griding blade.The wicked shade flies howling from his foe.So let him fly & howl for agony,And oer his wounds deploreFar worse hath Arvalan deservdAnd worse is yet in store.

Not now the Glendoveer pursued his flight,He bade the Ship of Heaven alight,And gently there he laidThe astonished Father by the happy MaidThe 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 BarkThro air & sunshine held its heavenly way.

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10

Swift thro the sky the Vessel of the SurasSails up the fields of ether like an Angel, –Rich is the freight O Vessel! that thou bearest, –Beauty & Virtue,

Fatherly Cares and Filial Veneration,Hearts which are prov’d & strengthened by affliction,Manly Resentment, Fortitude & Action,Womanly Goodness.

All with which Nature halloweth her daughters,Tenderness, Truth & Purity & Meekness,Pity, Patience, Faith & Resignation,Love & Devotement.

Ship of the Gods, how richly art thou laden!Proud of the charge thou voyagest rejoicing,Clouds float around to honour thee, & EveningLingers in heaven.

A stream descends on Meru mountain,None hath seen its secret fountain,It had its birth, so sages sayUpon the memorable dayWhen Parvati amid her play,Too venturous then in her mirth,Presumd her hands to layOn Seevas eyes, the light & life of EarthThereat the heart of the Universe stood still,The Elements ceasd their influences, the HoursStopt on the eternal round; Motion & BreathTime, Change & Life & DeathIn sudden trance opprest forgot their powers,A moment, & 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-mountainWhich rises oer the hills of earth,In light & clouds it hath its mortal birth,Earth seems that pinnacle to rearSublime above this worldly sphere,Its cradle, & its altar & its throne.And there the newborn River liesOutspread beneath its native skies,As if it there would love to dwellAlone & unapproachable.Soon flowing forward & resignedTo the will of the creating Mind,It springs at once with sudden leapDown from the immeasurable steepFrom rock to rock with shivering force aboundingThe mighty cataract rushes, Heaven aroundLike thunder with the incessant roar resounding,And Meru’s summit shaking with the soundWide spreads the snowy foam, the sparkling springRiver aloft, & ever there at morningThe earliest sunbeams haste to wing their way,With rainbow wreaths the holy flood adorning.And duly the adoring Moon at nightSheds her white glory thereAnd in the watry air,Suspends her halo-crowns of silver light.

A mountain valley in its blessed breastReceives the stream, which there delights to lieUntroubled <xxx> & at rest.Beneath the untainted sky.There is a lovely lake it seems to sleep,And thence thro many a channel dark & deepTheir secret way the holy waters wind,Till raising underneath the rootOf the Tree of Life on Himakoot,Majestic forth they flow to purify mankind.

Toward the Lake above the nether sphereThe Living Bark with Angel eyeDirects its course along the obedient sky.Kehama hath not yet dominion here,And till the dreaded hourWhen Indra by the Rajah shall be drivenDethrond from Heaven,Here may Ladurlad rest beyond his power.The Living Bark alights, the GlendoveerThen lays Ladurlad by the blessed Lake, –Oh happy sire & yet more happy daughter!The etherial gales his agony aslake,His daughters tears are on his cheekHis hand is in the water.The innocent man, the man opprestOh joy! hath found a place of restBeyond Kehama’s sway,His Curse extends not hereHis pains have past away.

O happy Sire & happy DaughterYe on the banks of that celestial-WaterYour resting place & sanctuary have foundWhat – hath not then their mortal taint defiledThis sacred solitary ground?Vain thought, the holy Valley smildReceiving such a sire & child,Ganges who seemd asleep to lieBeheld them with benignant eye,And rippled round melodiously,And rolld his little waves to meetAnd welcome their beloved feet.The gales of Swerga thither fled,And heavenly odours there were shedAbout, below, & overhead,And Earth, rejoicing in their tread,Hath built them up a blooming bowerWhere every amaranthine flowerIts deathless blossom interweavesWith bright & undecaying leaves.

Three happy beings are there here,The Sire, the Maid, the Glendoveer;A fourth approaches, – who is thisThat enters in the Bower of Bliss?No form so fair might painter findAmong the daughters of mankind,For Death her beauties hath refin’dAnd unto her a form hath givenFramd of the elements of heaven.Pure dwelling place for perfect mindShe stood & gazed on sire & childHer tongue had not yet power to speakThe tears were streaming down her cheek,And when those tears her sight beguild,And still her faltering accents faildThe Spirit mute & motionlessHeld out her arms for the caress,Made still & silent with excessOf joy <love> & painful happiness.The Maid that lovely form surveyd,Wistful she gazd & knew her not,But Nature to her heart conveydA sudden thrill, a startling thought,A feeling many a year forgot,Now like a dream anew recurring,As if again in every veinHer mothers milk was stirring.With straining neck & earnest eyeAnd She stretchd her arms imploringly,As if she fain would have her nighYet feard to meet the wishd embrace,As one with love & awe opprest.Not so Ladurlad, he could traceTho brightend with angelic graceHis own Yedillians human face,He ran & held her to his breast.Oh joy above all joys of Heaven,By Death alone to others given,This moment hath to him restor’dThe early lost, the long deplor’d.

They err who tell us Love can dieWith life all other passions fly,All others are but vanity.In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell,Nor Avarice in the vaults of Hell,Earthly these passions, as of earth.They perish where they have their birthBut Love is indestructibleThe holy flame for ever burnethFrom Heaven it came, to Heaven returnethFor oft on earth a troubled guest,At times deceivd at times opprest,It here is tried & purified,And hath in Heaven its perfect rest,It soweth here with toil of care,But the harvest time of Love is there.Oh when a Mother meets on highThe Babe she lost in infancy,Hath she not then for pains & fears,The day of woe, the watchful night,For all her sorrow, all her tears,An overpayment of delight!

A blessed family is thisAssembled in the Bower of Bliss.Strange woe Ladurlad hath been thineAnd pangs beyond all human measure,And thy reward is now divine,A foretaste of eternal pleasure.He knew indeed there was a dayWhen all these joys would pass away,And he must quit the blest abode.And taking up again the spell,Groan underneath its baleful load,And wander oer the world againMost wretched of the sons of man.Yet was this brief repose as whenA traveller in the Arabian sands,Half fainting on his sultry road,Hath reachd the water-place at last,And resting there beside the wellThinks of the perils he has past,And gazes oer the unbounded plain,The plain which must be traversd stillAnd drinks, yet cannot drink his fillThen girds his patient loins againSo to Ladurlad now was givenNew strength & confidence in HeavenAnd hope & faith invincible.For often would Ereenia tellOf what in elder days befell

When other tyrants in their mightUsurpd dominion oer the earth,And Veeshnoo took a human birthDeliverer of the sons of man;And slew the huge Ermacasen,And piece-meal rent with lion forceErrenens accursed corse,And humbled Bali in his pride,And when the Giant RavanenHad borne triumphant from his sideSeeda his beloved bride,And from afar his force defied.How to her rescue swift he hied,And met the hundred-headed foe,And dealt him the unerring blow –By Bramas hand the lance was given,And by that arm resistless drivenIt laid the mighty Tyrant low,And Earth & Ocean & high Heaven,Rejoiced to see his overthrow.Oh doubt not thou, Ereenia criedSuch fate Kehama will betide,For there are Gods who look below.Seeva the Avenger is not blind,Nor Veeshnoo careless for mankind.

Thus was Ladurlads soul imbuedWith strength & holy fortitude,And child & sire with pious mindAlike resolved, alike resigned,Lookd onward to the evil day;Faith was their comfort, Faith their stay,They trusted woe would pass away,And tyranny would sink subdued,And Evil yield at length to Good.

Lovely wert thou, O Flower of EarthAbove all flowers of mortal birth.But fosterd in this blissful Bower,From day to day & hour to hourLovelier grew the lovely flower.O blessed Mother from thy sphereOf heaven, permitted to defeatAnd strengthen thus thy offsprings heart!And thou O gentle GlendoveerHappy wert thou amid the grovesOf Swerga with these angel loves.But happier is Ereenia here,O blessed blessed company!When men & heavenly sports greet;And they whom Death has severed meetAnd hold again communion sweet –O blessed blessed company!The Sun careering round the skyBeheld them with rejoicing eyeAnd bade his willing charioteerRelax their speed as they drew near.Arounin checkd his rainbow reins,The seven green coursers shook their manesAnd brighter rays around them threw.The car of glory in their viewMore radiant, more resplendent grew,And Surya thro his veil of lightBeheld the Bower & blest the sight.The Lord of Night as he saild byStayd his pearly car on high,And while around the blessed BowerHe bade the softest moonlight flow,Lingerd to see that earthly FlowerForgetful of his dragon foe,Who mindful of their ancient feudWith open jaws of rage pursued.There all good Spirits of the air,Suras & Devetas, repair,Aloft they love to hover there,And view the Flower of mortal birthHere for her innocence & worthTransplanted from the fields of earth.And him who on the dreadful dayWhen Heaven was filld with consternationAnd Indra troubled with dismay,And for the sounds of joy & mirthWoe was heard & lamention,Defied the Rajah in his pride,Tho all in Heaven & Earth besideStood mute in dolorous expectation,And rushing forward in that hourSaved the Swerga from his power.Grateful for this they hover nighAnd bless the blessed Company.

One God alone with wanton eyeBeheld them in the blissful Bower.O ye, he cried, who have defiedThe Rajah, will ye mock my power?Twas Camdeo riding on his lory,Twas the immortal Youth of Love.Men below & Gods above,He pursued, have felt my darts,Shall ye alone of all in storyBoast impenetrable hearts?Hover here my gentle lory.Gently hover, while I seeTo whom hath Fate decreed the gloryTo the Glendoveer, or me.Then in the dewy evening skyThe Bird of gorgeous plumeryPoisd his wings & hovered nigh.It chanced that in that delightful hourKalyal sat before the Bower,On the green bank with amaranths sweetWhere Ganges murmured at her feet.Ereenia there before the MaidHad sails of ocean blue displayd.And oer the Lake in sportive flightGlided slowly in her sightNow glanced with rapid sweep along,Then rose & soard aloft again,And shook the waters off like rain,Now oer the silver surface hungAt him young Camdeo bent the bow,With living Bees the bow was strung,The fatal bow of sugar cane,And flowers which would inflame the heartWith their petals barbed the dart.The shaft unerringly addrestUnerring flew & struck his breast.Ah wanton! cried the Glendoveer,No power hast thou for mischief here!The love I bear that Maid divineSprings from a higher will than thine.A second shaft while thus Ereenia criedHad Camdeo aimed at Kalyals side.But lo the Bees which strung the bowBroke off, & suddenly took flight,By her attracted wing their way,Over her raven tresses play,And buzz around her with delight,As if they strove to pay their dutyTo mortal purity & beauty.Ah wanton! cried the Glendoveer.No power hast thou for mischief here.That heart devoted none to move,Already filld with deeper love!Go to thy Plains of Matra go,And string again thy broken Bow!

Rightly Ereenia spake, & ill had thoughtsOf earthly love beseemd the sanctuaryWhere Kalyal had been wafted that the SoulOf her dead Mother there might strengthen her,Feeding her with the milk of heavenly lore.And influxes of heaven imbue her heartWith hope & faith & holy fortitudeAgainst the evil day. Here rest awhileIn peace, O Father marked for miseryAbove all sons of men, O Daughter doomdFor sufferings & for trials above all elseOf women, yet both favourd; both belovdBy all good Powers, here rest while in peace

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When from the sword by arm angelic drivenFoul Arvalan fled howling, wild with pain,His thin essential spirit rent & rivenWith wounds, united soon & heald again.Backward the accursed turnd his eye in flightRemindful of revengeful thoughts even then,And saw where gliding thro the evening lightThe Ship of Heaven saild upward thro the sky,Then like a meteor vanished from his sight.Where he follow? vainly might he tryTo trace thro rapid <trackless> air its rapid course,Nor dared he that angelic arm defyStill sore & writhing from its dreaded force.Should he the lust of vengeance lay aside?Too long had Arvalan in ill been traind,His spirit nurst in tyranny & prideAnd wrong, the ignominious thought disdaind.Or to his mighty father should he go,Complaining of defeature twice sustaind,And ask new powers to meet the immortal foe?Repulse he feard not, but he feard rebukeAnd shamed to tell him of his overthrow.There dwelt an old a dread Enchantress in a nookObscure, old help mate she to him had been,Lending her aid in many a secret sin,And there for counsel now his way he took.

She was a Woman whose unlovely youth,Even like a cankered rose which none will cullHad withered on the stalk. Her heart was fullOf passions which had found no natural scope,Feelings which there had grown but ripened not.Desires unsatisfied, abortive hope.Repinings which provoked vindictive thought, –These restless elements for ever wroughtFermenting in her with perpetual stir,And thus her spirit to all evil mov’d,She hated men because they lovd not her,And hated women because they were lov’d.And thus in wrath & hatred & despairShe tempted Hell to tempt her, & resignedHer body to the Demons of the Air,Wicked & wanton fiends, who where they willWander abroad, still seeking to do ill,And take whatever vacant form they find,Carcase of man or beast that life hath left.Foul instrument for them of fouler mind,To these the witch her wretched body gave,So they would wreck her vengeance on makind,She thus at once their mistress & their slave,And they, to do such service nothing loth,Obeyd her bidding, slaves & masters both

So from such cursed intercourse she caughtContagious power of mischief, & was taughtSuch secrets as are damnable to guessBreathd she her silent spell upon a bride, –Vainly the Bramins that sad bridal blessHer breath was palsying, & the knot she tiedBlasted the marriage bed with barrennessIs there a child whose little lovely waysMight win all hearts, – on whom his parents gazeTill they shed tears of joy & tenderness, –Oh hide him from that Witches withering sight!Oh hide him from the eye of Lorrinite!Her look hath crippling in it, & her curseAll plagues which on mortality can light!Death is his doom if she behold, or worse,Diseases lothsome & incurableAnd inward sufferings that no tongue can tell,The wine which from the wounded palm on high,Fills yonder gourd as slowly it distils, –Grows sour at once if Lorrinite pass by.The deadliest worm from which all creatures fly,Fled from the deadlier venom of her eye;The babe unborn within its mothers wombStarted & trembled when the Witch came nigh,And in the silent chambers of the tombDeath shuddered her unholy tread to hear,And from the dry & mouldering bones did fearForce cold sweat when Lorrinite was near.

Power made her haughty; by ambition firdEre long to mightier mischiefs she aspird,The Calis who oer cities rule unseen,Each in her own domain a Demon Queen,And worshippd there with blood & human life,They knew her, & in their accurst employShe stirrd up neighbouring states to mortal strifeSani the dreadful God who rides abroadUpon the King of the Ravens, to destroyThe offending sons of man, when his four handsWere weary with their toil, would let her doHis work of vengeance upon guilty lands.And Lorrinite at his commandment knewWhen the ripe earthquake should be loosd, & whereTo point its course; & in the baneful airThe pregnant seeds of death he bade her strewAll deadly plagues & pestilence to brew;The Locusts were her army, & their bandsWhereer she turned her skinny finger flew,The floods in ruin rolld at her commands,And when in time of drought the husbandmenBeheld the gathered rain about to fall,Her breath would drive it to the dearest sands,While the rice-roots in the dusty marsh were driedAnd in lean groupes assembled by the sideOf the empty tank, the cattle dropt & died,And Famine at her bidding wasted wideThe wretched land, till in the market-placePromiscuous where the dead & dying layDogs fed on human bones in the open light of day.

Her secret cell the accursed ArvalanIn quest of vengeance sought, & thus began

Mother mighty, Mother wise,Revenge me on mine enemies.LorriniteCom’st thou son for aid to me?Tell me who have injurd thee,Where they are & who they be,Of the Earth, or of the Sea,Or of the aerial company?Earth nor Sea nor Air is freeFrom the powers who wait on meAnd my tremendous witchery,Woe to them who injure thee!Arvalan.She for whom so ill I spedWhom my Father deemeth dead,Lives, for Mariatales aidFrom the water saved the Maid.In hatred I desire her still,And in revenge would have my will.A Deveta with wings of blueAnd sword whose edge even now I rue,In a Ship of Heaven on highPilots her along the skyWhere they voyage thou canst tellMistress of the mighty spell.

At this the Witch thro shrivelled lips & thin,Sent forth a sound half whistle, & half hissTwo winged hands came inArmless & bodyless,Bearing a Globe of liquid crystal, setIn frame as diamond bright, yet black as jetA thousand eyes were quenchd in endless nightTo form the magic globe, for LorriniteHad from their sockets drawn the liquid sightAnd kneaded it with re-creating skillInto this organ of her mighty will.Look in yonder orb, she criedTell me what is there descried.

ArvalanA mountain top, in clouds of lightEnvelopd, rises on my sight.Thence a cataract rushes downHung with many a rainbow crownLight & clouds conceal its headBelow, a silver Lake is spread,Upon its shore a Bower I seeFit home for blessed company.See – they come forward, – one, two – threeThe last a maiden, – it is she!The foremost shakes his wings of blueTis he whose sword even yet I rueAnd in that other one I knowThe visage of my deadliest foeMother, let thy magic mightArm me for the mortal fight.Helm & shield & mail affordProof against his dreaded sword,Then will I invade their seat,Then shall vengeance be compleatLorriniteSpirits who obey my will,Hear him, & his wish fulfill.

So spake the Mighty One, nor farther spellNeeded, – anon a sound like smotherd thunderWas heard slow rolling under,The solid pavement of the cellQuakd, heard, & cleft assunderAnd at the feet of Arvalan displaydHelmet & mail & shield & scymetar were laid

The Asuras often put to flightAnd scatterd in the fields of lightBy their foes celestial mightForgd this armour for the fightMid fires intense did they annealIn Padalan the quivering steel,Till trembling thro each deepening hueIt settled in a midnight blue.Then they cast it to aslakeIn the penal icey Lake.Next with many a spell imbuedGave it to the Giant brood,And they with all their strength & charmsForged the impenetrable arms.Foul Arvalan with joy surveydThe crescent sabres cloudy blade,With deeper joy the impervious mail,The shield & helmet of avail,Soon did he himself array,And bade her speed him on his way.

Then she led him to the denWhere her chariot night & dayStood harnessd ready for the way.Two Dragons yoked in adamant conveyThe magic car, from either collar sprungAn adamantine rib, which met in airOer archd, & crost, & bent diverging there,And firmly in its arc upbore,Upon their brazen necks the seat of power.Arvalan mounts the car, & in his handReceives the magic reins from Lorrinite,The Dragons long obedient to commandTheir ample sails expand,Like steeds well-broken to fair Ladys handThey feel the reins of mightAnd up the northern sky begin their flight.Son of the Wicked, doth thy soul delightTo think its hour of vengeance now is nigh?Lo where the far off lightOf Indra’s Palace flashes on his sight,And Merus heavenly summit shines on highWith clouds of glory brightAmid the dark blue sky.Already in his hope doth he espy,Himself secure in mail of tenfold charms;Ereenia writhing from the magic blade,The father sent to bear his curse; the MaidResisting vainly in his impious arms.

Ah sinner, whose anticipating soulIncurs the guilt even when the crime is spard!Joyous toward Meru’s summit on he faredWhile the twin Dragons rising as he guidesWith steady flight steer northward for the poleAnon with irresistible controulForce mightier far than his arrests their course;It wrought as tho a power unseen had caughtTheir adamantine yokes to drag them on.Straight on they bend their way, & now in vainUpward doth Arvalan direct the rein,The rein of magic might avails not nowThat power unseen each moment mightier grewAnd now hath seized him too.With hands resisting, & down-pressing feetUpon their hold insisting,Scarce can he maintain his seat.In vain with doubled speed the Dragons fly,Caught in a current whence was no retreatStrong as they are behold them whirld alongHeadlong with useless pinions thro the sky.

What power was this which with resistless mightFoils the dread magic thus of Lorrinite?Twas all commanding Nature, they were hereWithin the sphere of the Adamantine RocksWhich guard Mount Meru round, as far belowThat heavenly height where Ganges hath its birthInvolved in clouds & light,So far above, its roots of ice & snow.On – on – they roll, drawn headlong in their flightThe lost canoe less rapidly than thisDown the resistless stream is rapt alongTo the brink of Niagaras dread abyss.On – on – they roll, & now with shivering shockAre dashd against the rock that girds the Pole.Down from his shatterd mail the unhappy SoulIs dropt, ten thousand fathoms down –Till in an ice-rift mid the eternal snowsFoul Arvalan is stopt. There let him howl,Groan there, & there with unavailing moanFor aid on his almighty father call.Amid those deserts of perpetual frostAll human sounds are lost.Of utterance & of motion soon bereftFrozen in the ice-rift behold him lieOnly the painful sense of being leftA Spirit who must feel & cannot die,Bleaching & bare beneath the polar sky.

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O ye who by the LakeOf heavenly source partakeThe joys which Heaven hath destind for the blest,Swift swift the moments fly,The silent hours go by,And ye must leave your dear abode of restO wretched man prepareAgain thy curse to bearPrepare O wretched Maid for farther woe!The fatal hour draw nearWhen Indra’s heavenly sphereMust own the Tyrant of the World below.To day the hundredth SteedAt Seevas shrine must bleed,The dreadful Sacrifice is full to day.Nor man, nor God, hath powerAt this momentous hourAgain to save the Swerga from his sway.Fresh woes O Maid divine,Fresh trials must be thine,And what must thou Ladurlad yet endure,But let your hearts be strong,And bear ye bravely on,The Gods are good, & Virtue is secure.

They – little deeming that the fatal dayWas come, beheld where thro the morning skyA Ship of Heaven drew nigh.Onward they watch it steer its steady flightTill wondering they espyOld Casyapa, the Sire of Gods, alightBut when Ereenia saw the Sire appear,At that unwonted & unwelcome sightHis heart received a sudden shock of fearThy presence doth its doleful tidings tell,O Father, cried the startled Glendoveer.The dreadful hour is nigh, – I know it well,Not for less import would the Sire of GodsForsake his ancient & august abodes

Even so, serene the immortal Sire replies,Soon like an earthquake, will ye feel the blowWhich consummates the mighty sacrifice,And this world, & its Heaven, & all thereinAre then Kehamas. To the second ringOf these Seven Spheres, the Swerga KingEven now prepares for flight,Beyond the circle of this inmost orb,Beyond the Rajahs might.Ocean that clasps this inmost of the spheres –And girds it round with everlasting roar,Set like a gem appearsWithin that bending shore.Thither fly all of heavenly race,I too forsake mine ancient dwelling-place.Now O Child & Father ye must go,Take up the burthen of your woe,And wander once again below.With patient heart hold onward to the end,Be true unto yourselves, & bear in mind,That every God is still the good mans friendAnd they who suffer bravely save mankind.Oh tell me cried Ereenia, for from theeNought can be hidden, when the end will be!

Seek not to know, old Casyapa repliedWhat pleaseth Heaven to hide.Dark is the abyss of Time,But light enough to guide your steps is given,Whatever weal or woe betideTurn never from the way of truth asideAnd leave the event in holy faith to HeavenThe moment is at hand, no more delay,Ascend the etherial Bark, & go your way,And ye of heavenly nature follow me!

The will of Heaven be done! Ladurlad criedNor more the man repliedBut placed his daughter in the Living Bark,Then took his seat besideThere was no word at parting, no adieuSwift as a meteor thro the air they flew –One groan Ladurlad breathd yet uttered notWhen to his heart & brainThe fiery curse again like lightning shotAnd now the sire & child on earth alightUp roard the Ship of Heaven, & saild away from sight

O Ye immortal BowersWhere hitherto the HoursHave led their dance of happiness for ayeWith what a sense of woeDo ye expect the blowAnd see your heavenly dwellers driven awayLo where the Aunnay-birds of graceful mienWhose milk-white forms were seen,Lovely as Nymphs, your ancient trees betweenAnd by your silent springs,With melancholy cryNow spread unwilling wings;Their stately necks reluctant they protendAnd thro the sullen skyTo other worlds their mournful progress bendThe affrighted gales to-dayOer their beloved streams no longer play,The streams of Paradise have ceasd to flowThe Fountain-Tree withholds its diamond showerIn the portentous hour,This dolorous hour, this universal woe.Where is the Palace whose far-flashing beamsWith streaks & streams of ever varying lightBrightend the polar nightEven to the frozen Norths extremest shoreGone like a morning rainbow, like a dreamA star that shoots & falls & then is seen no more.

Now – now – ! – Before the Golden PalacesThe Bramin strikes the hourThe fatal blow is givenThat over Earth & HeavenConfirms the Almighty Rajah in his powerAll Evil Spirits thenThat roam the world about,Or wander thro the sky,Set up a joyful shout.The Asuras & the Giants join the cry –The damnd in Padalon acclaimTheir hoped Deliverers name.Heaven trembles with the thunder-drowning sound,Back starts affrighted Ocean from the shore,And the adamantine vaults & brazen floorOf Hell are shaken with the roar.Up rose the Rajah thro the obedient SkyTo seize the Swerga for his proud abode –Myriads of Evil Dæmons round him fly,As royally on wings of winds he rodeAnd scald high Heaven triumphant like a God.

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Around her fathers neck the Maiden lockdHer arms when that portentous blow was given.Clinging to him she heard the dread uproarAnd felt the shuddering shock which ran thro Heaven.Earth underneath them rockd,Her strong foundations heaving in commotionSuch as wild winds upraise in raving ocean,As tho the solid base were rent asunder.And lo! where storming the astonishd SkyKehama & his Evil Host ascend!Before them rolls the thunder, –Ten thousand thousand lightnings round them fly,Upward the lengthening pageantries aspireLeaving from Earth to Heaven a widening wake of fire.

When the dread uproar was at length allay’dAnd Earth recovering from the shock was still,Thus to her father spake the imploring Maid.Oh – by the love which we so long have borneEach other, & we neer shall cease to bear –Oh – by the sufferings we have shard,And must not cease to share, –One boon I supplicate in this dread hour,One consolation in this hour of woe.Thou hast it in thy power, – refuse me notThe only comfort my poor heart can know.Thou dearest dear, my Kalyal, with a smileOf tenderness & sorrow, he replied,O best belovd, & to be lovd the bestBest worthy – set thy duteous heart at rest.I know thy wish, & let what will betideNeer will I leave thee wilfully againMy soul is strengthened now to bear its pain.Be thou in all my wanderings still my guide,Be thou in all my sufferings at my side.

The Maiden at these welcome words imprestAn earnest kiss upon her fathers cheek.They lookd around them then as if to seekWhere they should turn, – North, South or East or WestWherever to their vagrant feet seemd best.But turning from the view her mournful eyesOh whither shall we wander Kalyal cries,Or wherefore seek in vain a place of rest? –Have we not here the Earth beneath our treadHeaven overheadA brook that winds thro this sequestered gladeAnd yonder woods to yield us fruit & shadeThe little all our wants require is nighx.Hope we have none; – why travel on in fear?We cannot fly from Fate, & Fate will find us here

They built them up a Bower of jointed caneStrong for the needful use & light & longWas the slight framework reard with little painLittle creepers then the wicker-sides supplyAnd the tall jungle-grass fit roofing gaveBeneath that genial sky.And here did Kalyal each returning dayPour forth libations from the brook, to payThe Spirits of her Sires their grateful rite,In such libations found in open gladesBesides clear streams & solitary shades.The Spirits of the virtuous dead delightNor did the Maiden here neglect to weaveHer garlands still for Mariatales brow,And hang them in her name on bush or boughWhich overhung their hut; & aye at eveGraceful with gliding movement, to her praiseSwim in the dance alongAnd with an angels voice of songTo her the harmonious hymn of glory raise.

Thus ever in her Fathers doting sightThe Maid performed the customary rite,He patient of his burning pain the whileBeheld her with delight,And sometimes with a melancholy smileApproved her pious toil.He too by day & night & every hourPaid to a higher Power his sacrifice;An offering not of ghee, or fruit, or rice,Flower-crown, or blood, but of a heart subdued,A resolute, unconquered fortitude,An agony represt, a will resignd,To her who on her secret throne reclin’d;Amid the Milky Sea by Veeshnoos sideLooks with an eye of mercy on mankind.By the Preserver with his power endued,There Boomdavee beholds the lower clime,And marks the silent sufferings of the GoodTo recompense them in her own good time.

Hope we have none, said Kalyal to her sire:Said she aright, & had the mortal MaidNo thoughts of heavenly aid?No secret hopes her inmost heart to moveWith language of such deep & pure desireAs vestal maids, whose piety is love,Feel in their exstasies, when rapt above,Their souls unto their heavenly spouse aspire.Why else so often doth that searching eyeRoam thro the scope of the sky?Why if she sees a distant speck on highStarts there that quick suffusion to her cheek?Tis but the Eagle in his heavenly height, –Reluctant to believe she hears his cryAnd marks his circling flightThere languidly asserts her mournful sight.Why ever else at morn ‘that waking sigh’,Because the lovely form no more is nighWhich hath been present to her soul all night!And that injurious fearWhich ever as it riseth is represt,Yet riseth still within her troubled breastThat she no more shall see the Glendoveer?

Hath he forgotten me? the wrongful thoughtWould stir within her, & still repelldWith shame & self-reproaches, would recur.Days after days unvarying come & go,And neither friend nor foeApproaches them in their sequestered glade.Maid of strange destiny, but deem not thouThou art forgotten now,And hast no more cause for farther hope or fear, –High-fated Maid, thou dost knowWhat eyes watch over thee for weal & woe!The Glendoveer from his far sphereWith love that never sleeps beholds thee hereAnd in the hour of danger will be nearDark Lorrinite on thee hath fixd her sightAnd laid her wiles to aidFoul Arvalan when he shall next appear;For well she weend his Spirit would renewOld vengeance now with unremitting hate,The Enchantress, well his evil nature knew,The Accursed Spirit hath his prey in viewAnd thus while all their seperate hopes puruseAll work unconsciously to the will of Fate.

Fate workd its own the while; a bandOf Fakeers as they searchd the landSeeking a spouse for Jagrenaut their GodStrayd to this solitary gladeAnd reachd the bower wherein the Maid abodeWondering at form so fair, they deemd the PowerDivine, had led them to his chosen BrideAnd seizd & bore her from her Fathers side.

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Joy in the city of great Jagrenaut!Joy in the seven-headed Idols shrine!A virgin bride his ministers have broughtA mortal maid in form & face divine.Peerless among all daughters of mankindSearchd they the world again from East to WestIn endless questSeeking the fairest & the best,No Maid so lovely might they hope to findFor she hath breathd celestial air,And heavenly food hath been her fareAnd heavenly thoughts & feelings given her faceThat heavenly grace.Joy in the city of great Jagrenaut!Joy in the seven headed Idols shrine!The fairest Maid his Fakeers sought,A fairer than fairest had they broughtA maid of charms surpassing human thoughtA maid divine

Now bring ye forth the Chariot of the GodBring him abroad,That thro the swarming city he may rideAnd by his sidePlace ye the Maid of more than mortal graceThe Maid of perfect form & heavenly faceSet her aloft in triumph like a brideUpon the bridal car,And spread the joyful tidings wide & farSpread it with trump & voiceThat all may hear, & all who hear rejoiceThe Mighty one hath found his mate!Will ride abroad!To night he will go forth from his abode, –Ye myriads who adore himPrepare his way before him!

Upreard on twenty wheels elateHuge as a ship the bridal car appeard,Loud creak the ponderous wheels as thro the gateA thousand Bramins drag the enormous load.Throned aloft in stateThe Image of the seven-headed GodCame forth from his abode, & at his sideSate Kalyal like a bride.A bridal statue rather might she seem,For she regarded all things like a dream,Having no thought, nor fear, nor will, nor aughtSave hope & faith that livd within her still.

O silent Night, how they have startled theeWith the brazen trumpets blare!Queen of the sky, whose quiet light sereneFilleth wide Heaven, & bathing hill & woodSpreads oer the peaceful valley like a flood.How have they dimmd thee with tireless glareWhich round yon moving pageant flame & flare,As the wild rout with deafening song & shoutFling their long flashes out,That like infernal lightnings fire the air.

A thousand pilgrims strainArm, shoulder, thigh, with might & mainTo drag that ponderous wain,And slowly drag along the enormous load.Prone fall the frantic votaries in its road,And calling on the GodTheir self-devoted bodies there they layTo pave his chariot way.On Jagrenaut they call,The mighty car rolls on & crushes all.Thro blood & brains it ploughs its dreadful path,Groans rise unheard, drownd in the dying cry,And death & agony.Are trodden underfoot by yon mad throngWho follow close & thrust the deadly wheels along.

Pale grows the Maid at this accurst sight,The yells which round her riseHave rous’d her with affright,And fear hath given to her dilated eyesA wilder light.Where shall those eyes be turnd? – She knows not where!Downward they dare not look, for thereIs death, & horror, & despair,Nor can her patient looks to Heaven repair,For the huge Idol over her in airSpreads his seven hideous heads, & wideExtends their snakey he necks on every side.And all around, behind, beforeThe bridal car, is the raging rout,With frantic shout & deafening roarTossing the torches flames about.And the double double peals of the drum are there,And the startling burst of the trumpets blare;And the gong that seems with its thunderous dreadTo stun the living & waken the dead,The ear-strings tremble as if they were brokeAnd the eyelids drop at the weight of its strokeFain would the Maid have kept them fastBut open they start at the crack of the blast.

Where art thou Son of Heaven, Ereenia, whereIn this dread hour of horror & despair!Thinking on how she strove her fear to quell.If he be near me then will all be well,And if he reck not for my misery,Let come the worst, – it matters not to me.O Maid repell that wrongful thought!Thou feelest, but believest it not.It is thine own imperfect natures faultThat lets one doubt of him arise within,And this she knew, & like a sinRepelld the doubt, & still believed him true,And summoned up her soul to endueAll forms of fear, in that firm trust secure.

She needs that faith, she needs that consolation,For now the Car hath measurd back its trackOf death, & hath reentered now its stationThere in the temple-court with song & danceA harlot band to meet the Maid advance,The drum hath ceasd its peals; the trump & gongAre still, the frantic crowd forbear their yellsAnd sweet it was to hear the voice of songAnd the sweet music of their girdle bellsArmlets & anklets; that with chearful soundSymphonious tinkled as they wheeld around.

They sung a bridal measure,A song of pleasure,A hymn of joyaunce & congratulation.Go chosen one, they criedGo happy bride!For the God descends in expectation,For thy dear sakeHe leaves his Heaven, O Maid of matchless charms!Go happy one, the bed divine partakeAnd fill his longing arms.Thus to the inner fane,With circling dance & hymeneal strainThe astonished Maid they led,And there they laid her on the bridal bed.Then forth they went, & closd the temple-gateAnd left the wretched Kalyal to her fate.

Where art thou Son of Heaven, Ereenia, where?From the loathed bed she starts, & in the airLooks up, as if she thought to find him there.Then in despairAnguish & agony & hopeless prayer,Prostrate she laid herself upon the floor.There trembling as she lay,A lustful Bramin from the inner doorEntered to seize the xxx Virgin for his prey.

A curse be on your heads, ye juggling clan, –A killing curse, – the curse of God & Man!Is it for this in quest of virgin charmsThat ye have searchd the country far & wide?F For your own impious armsThat ye have brought her like the Idols bride?The pomp, the pageantry, the acclamationThe mad procession & the chariot pathOf blood & death,End they in this, deceit & profanationAnd lust & violation!

Son of perdition who hast seized the MaidThe curse is on thee! not in vain for aidWith the sudden shriek of fearShe calls Ereenia now, – the GlendoveerIs here! Upon the guilty sight he burstLike lightning from a cloud, & caught the accurst,Bore him to the roof aloft, then on the floorWith vengeance dashd him down.The shattered body quivered there in gore,The guilty spirit sunk to Padalon.

He hath done our work, a voice unseen replies,And on the Maidens eyesFrom the pregnant air two other forms arise,Foul Arvalan the one, heart-withering sight.The other was the dread Lorrinite.Now seize him, Spirits! the Enchantress cried.A host of Demons at her word appear,And like tornado winds from every sideAt once, they rush upon the Glendoveer.Alone against a legion, little hereAvails his single might.Nor that celestial falchion which in fightSo oft hath put the rebel race to flight.No Gods are now on earth to give him aid,Hemmd round, he is overpowered, beat down, & [bound]And at the feet of Lorrinite is laid.

Lo here, to Arvalan she said, thy foe!Him in the Ancient Sepulchres, belowThe roaring oceans billows, will I lay.Gods are there none to help him now, & there For man there is no way,To that dread scene of durance & despair,Asuras, bear your enemy! I goTo chain him in the tombs, safe now from fearSon of Kehama, take thy pleasure here.

Her words the accursed race obey’dForth with a sound like rushing winds theyAnd of aid from Earth or Heaven bereftAlone with Arvalan the Maid is left.But in that hour of agony the MaidDeserted not herself; – her very dreadHad calmd her, & her heartKnew the whole horror, & its only part.Yemen! receive me undefiled! she said,And seized a torch & fird the bridal bedUp ran the rapid flames, on every sideThey find their fuel wheresoeer they spreadThin hangings, fragrant gums, & odorous woodThat piled like sacrificial altars stoodAround they run, & upward they aspire,And lo! the huge Pagoda lined with fire

The wicked soul who had assumed againA form of sensible flesh for his foul willStill bent on base revenge, & baffled stillFelt that corporeal shape alike to painObnoxious as to pleasure, forth he flewHowling & scorchd by the devouring flameAccursed spirit, still condemned to rueThe cost of sin & punishment the same.Freed from his loathsome touch, a natural dreadCame on the self-devoted, & she drewBack from the flames which now toward her spreadAnd like a living monster seemed to dartTheir hungry tongues toward their shrinking preySoon she subdued her heart.O Father she exclaimd, there was no wayBut this! & thou Ereenia, who for meSufferest, my soul shall bear thee company!

So having said, she knitHer body up to work her souls desireAnd rush at once amid the thickest fire,A sudden cry witheld her. – Kalyal – stay –Child – daughter – I am here! the voice exclaimsAnd from the gate unharmed thro smoke & flamesLike as a God Ladurlad made his way,Wrapt his preserving arms around, & boreHis child uninjured oer the burning floor.

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15.

Kalyal.Ereenia!Ladurlad.Nay! let no reproachful thoughtWrong his heroic heart! the Evil Powers Have the dominion oer this wretched world,And no good Spirit now must venture here.Kaylal.Alas my father, he hath ventured here,And saved me from one horror, – but the PowersOf Evil beat him down, & bore awayTo some dread scene of durance & despair, –The Ancient Tombs, methought their Mistress saidWhich lie beneath the Ocean Waves; – for thereThere was no way for man, & Gods, she said,Were none to help him now.Ladurlad.Is that her boast?And hath she laid him in the Ancient TombsRelying that the Waves will guard him there?Short-sighted are the eyes of Wickedness,And all its ways are folly. O my Child,The Curses of the wicked are upon me,And the immortal Deities, who seeAnd suffer all things for their own wise endHave made them blessings to us!Kalyal.Then thou knowestWhere they have borne him! –LadurladTo the SepluchresOf the Ancient Kings, which Bali in his powerMade in the times of old, & built above themA city like the city of the Gods,Being like a God himself. For many an ageHath Ocean warrd against his Palaces,Till overwhelmd they lie beneath the waves,Not overthrown, so well the Mighty OneHad laid their deep foundations. Rightly saidThe accursed, thither was no way for man;But not like man am I!

Up from the ground the Maid exultant sprungAnd clapt her happy hands in attitudeOf thanks to Heaven, & flungHer arms around her fathers neck, & stoodStruggling awhile for utterance, with excessOf hope & pious thankfulness.Come – come – she cried, Oh let us not delay, –He is in torments there – away – away –

Long time they travelled on, at dawn of dayStill setting forward with the earliest light,Nor ceasing from their wayTill darkness closd the nightShort refuge from the noontide heat,Reluctantly compelld, the Maiden tookAnd ill her indefatiguable feetCould that brief respite brook.Hope kept her up, & her intense desireSupports that heart which neer at danger quails,Those feet which never tire,That frame which never fails.

Their talk was of the City of the daysOf old, Earths wonder once, & of the fameOf Bali, its great founder, he whose nameIn ancient story, & in poets praiseLiveth & flourisheth, because his mightPut down the wrong & aye upheld the right.How for ambition, as old Sages tell,The mighty monarch fell,For he too having made the Earth his own.Then in his power <pride> had drivenThe Devetas from Heaven,And seized triumphantly the Swerga throne.The Incarnate came before the Mighty One,In dwarfish stature & in mien obscure,The sacred cord he bore,And askd, for Bramas sake, a little boonThree steps of Balis ample reign, – no morePoor was the boon required, & poor was heWho begg’d, – a little wretch it seemd to be,But Bali neer refused a suppliants prayerA glance of pity in contemptuous moodHe on the Dwarf cast down,And bade him take the boon –And measure where he would.

Lo, Son of giant birthI take the grant, the Incarnate Power repliesWith his first step he measured out the earth,The second spannd the skiesThree paces thou hast granted,Twice have I set my footstep, Veeshnoo cries,Where shall the third be planted?

Then Bali knew the God, & at his feetIn homage due he laid his humbled head.Mighty art thou O Lord of Earth & Heaven,Mighty art thou, he said,Be merciful! & let me be forgiven,He askd for mercy of the merciful,And mercy for his virtues sake was shewn.For tho he was sent down to Padalon,Yet there by Yamens throneDoth Bali sit in majesty & mightTo judge the dead & sentence them aright.And foresomuch as he was still the friendOf righteousness, it is permitted himYearly from those drear regions to ascendAnd walk the earth, that he may hear his nameStill hymnd & honourd by the grateful voiceOf human kind, & in his fame rejoice.

Such was the talk they held upon their wayOf him to whose old City they were bound.And now upon their journey many a dayHad risen & closed, & many a week gone round,And many a realm & region had they past,When now the Ancient Towers appeard at last

Their golden summits in the noon-day lightShone oer the dark green deep that rolld between;For domes & pinnacles xxx & spires were seenPeering above the sea, a mournful sight.Well might the sad beholder ween from thenceWhat works of wonder the devouring waveHad swallowd there, when monuments so braveBore record of their old magnificence.And on the sandy shore, beside the vergeOf Ocean, here & there a rock-hewn faneResisted in its strength the surf & surgeThat on its deep foundations beat in vain.In solitude the Ancient Temples stood,Once resonant with instrument & songAnd solemn dance of festive multitude,Now as the weary ages pass alongHearing no voice save of the Ocean floodWhich roars for ever on the restless shores,Or visiting their solitary cavesThe lonely sound of winds that moan around,Accordant to the melancholy waves.With reverence did the Travellers seeThe works of ancient days, & silently Approach the shore. Now on the yellow sandWhere round their feet the rising surges partThey stand. Ladurlads heartExulted in his wonderous destiny,To heaven he raisd his handIn attitude of stern heroic pride,Oh what a power, he criedThou dreadful Rajah! doth thy curse impartI thank thee now! – Then turning to the MaidThou seest far & wideYon Towers extend, he said,My search must needs be long. Meantime the floodWill cast thee up thy food,And in the chambers of the rock by nightTake thou thy safe abode.No prowling beast to harm thee, or affrightCan enter there; – but wrap thyself with careFrom the foul birds obscene that thirsts for bloodFor in such caverns doth the Bat delightTo have its haunts. Do thou with stone & shoutEre thou liest down at evening, scare them outAnd in this robe of mine involve thy feet.Duly commend us both to Heaven in prayerBe of good heart, & let thy sleep be sweet.

So saying he put back his broad arm, & gaveThe cloth which girt his loins, & prest her handWith farewell earnestness, then from the sandAdvanced into the sea. The coming waveKnew the dread Rajahs Curse, & from his wayStarted, & on he went as on dry land,And still before his path the waters parted.She stands upon the shore where sea-weeds playAround her polishd ankles, & the sprayWhich from <off> her father like a rainbow fledFalls on her like a shower, – there Kalyal standsAnd sees the billows rise above his headShe at the startling sight forgot the powerThe Curse had given him, & held forth her handsImploringly, – her voice was on the windAnd the deep Ocean oer Ladurlad closdSoon she recalld his destiny to mind,And shaking off that natural fear composdHer soul with prayer, to wait the event resignd

Alone upon the solitary strandThe lovely one is left. Behold her goPacing with patient footsteps to & froAlong the bending sand.Save her, ye Gods, from Evil Powers, & here,From man she need not fear.For never Traveller comes nearThese aweful ruins of the days of yore;Nor fishers bark, nor venturous marinerApproach the sacred shore.All day she walkd the beach, at night she soughtThe chambers of the rock; with stone & shoutAssaild the bats obscene & drove them out,Then in her fathers robe involvd her feetAnd wrapt her mantle round to guard her head,And laid her down. The rock was Kalyals bedHer chamber lamps were in the starry sky,The winds & waters were her lullaby.

Be of good heart & let thy sleep be sweet,Ladurlad said – Alas that cannot beTo one whose days are days of misery!How often did she stretch her hands to greetEreenia rescued in the dreams of night,How oft amid the vision of delightFear in her heart all is not as it seems! –Then from unsettled slumber start & hearThe winds that moan above, the waves below,Thou hast been calld O Sleep, the friend of woe,But tis the happy who have calld thee so.

Another day, another night is gone,A second passes, & a third comes wanes on..So long she paced the shore,So often by the beach she took her stand,That the wild sea-birds knew her, & no moreFled when she past beside them on the strand.Bright shine the golden summits in the lightOf the noon sun, & lovelier far by nightTheir moonlight glories oer the sea they shed.Fair is the dark green deep, by night & dayUnvex’d with storms the peaceful billows play,As when they closd upon Ladurlads head –The firmament above is bright & clear,The sea-fowl, lords of water, air & land,Joyous alike upon the wing appearOr when they ride the waves, or walk the sand;Beauty & light & joy are every where, –There is no sorrow & no sadness there here,Save what that single heart contains!But oh what hopes & fears & pains are there!Seven miserable days the expectant MaidFrom earliest dawn till evening watchd the shore,Hope left her then, & in her heart she saidNever should she behold her father more¹

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Hactemus.² Dec. 14. 1808.