Beneath was smooth and fair to sight,

Nor weeds nor briers deform'd the natural floor, And through the leafy cope which bower'd it o'er Came gleams of checker'd light.

So like a temple did it seem, that there A pious heart's first impulse would be prayer.

6.

A brook, with easy current, murmur'd near; Water so cool and clear

The peasants drink not from the humble well, Which they, with sacrifice of rural pride, Have wedded to the cocoa-grove beside; Nor tanks of costliest masonry dispense To those in towns who dwell, The work of Kings, in their beneficence. Fed by perpetual springs, a small lagoon, Pellucid, deep, and still, in silence join'd, And swell'd the passing stream. Like burnish'd steel

Glowing, it lay beneath the eye of noon;

And when the breezes, in their play, Ruffled the darkening surface, then, with gleam Of sudden light, around the lotus stem It rippled, and the sacred flowers, that crown The lakelet with their roseate beauty, ride, In easy waving rock'd, from side to side; And as the wind upheaves

Their broad and buoyant weight, the glossy leaves Flap on the twinkling waters, up and down.

7.

They built them here a bower, of jointed cane, Strong for the needful use; and light and long Was the slight framework rear'd, with little pain; Lithe creepers, then, the wicker sides supply, And the tall jungle-grass fit roofing gave Beneath the genial sky..

And here did Kailyal, each returning day, Pour forth libations from the brook to pay The Spirits of her Sires their grateful rite; In such libations pour'd in open glades, Beside clear streams and solitary shades, The Spirits of the virtuous dead delight. And duly here, to Marriataly's praise, The Maid, as with an angel's voice of song, Pour'd her melodious lays Upon the gales of even, And gliding in religious dance along, Moved graceful as the dark-eyed Nymphs of Heaven;

Such harmony to all her steps was given.

8.

Thus ever, in her Father's doting eye, Kailyal perform'd the customary rite; He, patient of his burning pain the while, Beheld her, and approved her pious toil; And sometimes, at the sight, A melancholy smile Would gleam upon his awful countenance. He, too, by day and night, and every hour,

Paid to a higher Power his sacrifice; An offering, not of ghee, or fruit, and rice, Flower-crown, or blood; but of a heart subdued,

A resolute, unconquer'd fortitude, An agony repress'd, a will resign'd, To her, who, on her secret throne reclin'd, Amid the Sea of Milk, by Veeshnoo's side, Looks with an eye of mercy on mankind. By the Preserver, with his power endued, There Voomdavee beholds this lower clime, And marks the silent sufferings of the good, To recompense them in her own good time.

9.

O force of faith! O strength of virtuous will! Behold him in his endless martyrdom, Triumphant still!

The Curse still burning in his heart and brain;
And yet doth he remain

Patient the while, and tranquil, and content!
The pious soul hath framed unto itself
A second nature, to exist in pain
As in its own allotted element.

10.

Such strength the will reveal'd had given This holy pair, such influxes of grace, That to their solitary resting-place They brought the peace of Heaven. Yea, all around was hallow'd! Danger, Fear, Nor thought of evil ever enter'd here. A charm was on the Leopard when he came Within the circle of that mystic glade; Submiss he crouch'd before the heavenly Maid, And offer'd to her touch his speckled side; Or, with arch'd back erect, and bending head, And eyes half-closed for pleasure, would he stand, Courting the pressure of her gentle hand.

11.

Trampling his path through wood and brake,
And canes which crackling fall before his way,
And tassel-grass, whose silvery feathers play,
O'ertopping the young trees,

On comes the Elephant, to slake
His thirst at noon in yon pellucid springs.
Lo! from his trunk upturn'd, aloft he flings
The grateful shower; and now
Plucking the broad-leaved bough
Of yonder plane, with wavy motion slow,
Fanning the languid air,

He moves it to and fro.
But when that form of beauty meets his sight,
The trunk its undulating motion stops,
From his forgetful hold the plane-branch drops,
Reverent he kneels, and lifts his rational eyes
To her as if in prayer;

And when she pours her angel voice in song, Intranced he listens to the thrilling notes, Till his strong temples, bathed with sudden dews, Their fragrance of delight and love diffuse.

12.

Lo! as the voice melodious floats around,
The Antelope draws near,

The Tigress leaves her toothless cubs to hear;
The Snake comes gliding from the secret brake,
Himself in fascination forced along

By that enchanting song;

The antic Monkeys, whose wild gambols late, When not a breeze waved the tall jungle-grass, Shook the whole wood, are hush'd, and silently Hang on the cluster'd tree.

All things in wonder and delight are still; Only at times the Nightingale is heard, Not that in emulous skill that sweetest bird Her rival strain would try,

A mighty songster, with the Maid to vie; She only bore her part in powerful sympathy.

13.

Well might they thus adore that heavenly Maid!
For never Nymph of Mountain,

Or Grove, or Lake, or Fountain,
With a diviner presence fill'd the shade.
No idle ornaments deface

Her natural grace,

Musk-spot, nor sandal-streak, nor scarlet stain, Ear-drop nor chain, nor arm nor ankle-ring, Nor trinketry on front, or neck, or breast, Marring the perfect form: she seem'd a thing Of Heaven's prime uncorrupted work, a child Of early nature undefiled,

A daughter of the years of innocence. And therefore all things loved her. When she stood

Beside the glassy pool, the fish, that flies Quick as an arrow from all other eyes, Hover'd to gaze on her. The mother bird, When Kailyal's step she heard, Sought not to tempt her from her secret nest, But, hastening to the dear retreat, would fly To meet and welcome her benignant eye.

14.

Hope we have none, said Kailyal to her Sire. Said she aright? and had the mortal Maid

No thoughts of heavenly aid, No secret hopes her inmost heart to move With longings of such deep and pure desire, As Vestal Maids, whose piety is love, Feel in their ecstasies, when, rapp'd above, Their souls unto their heavenly Spouse aspire? Why else so often doth that searching eye

Roam through the scope of sky? Why, if she sees a distant speck on high, Starts there that quick suffusion to her cheek? 'Tis but the Eagle in his heavenly height; Reluctant to believe, she hears his cry,

And marks his wheeling flight, Then pensively averts her mournful sight. Why ever else, at morn, that waking sigh, Because the lovely form no more is nigh Which hath been present to her soul all night; And that injurious fear

Which ever, as it riseth, is repress'd, Yet riseth still within her troubled breast, That she no more shall see the Glendoveer!

15.

Hath he forgotten me? The wrongful thought Would stir within her, and, though still repell'd With shame and self-reproaches, would recur.

Days after days unvarying come and go, And neither friend nor foe

Approaches them in their sequester'd bower. Maid of strange destiny! but think not thou Thou art forgotten now,

And hast no cause for further hope or fear; High-fated Maid, thou dost not know What eyes watch over thee for weal and woe! Even at this hour,

Searching the dark decrees divine, Kehama, in the fulness of his power, Perceives his thread of fate entwine with thine. The Glendoveer, from his far sphere, With love that never sleeps, beholds thee here, And in the hour permitted will be near. Dark Lorrinite on thee hath fixed her sight, And laid her wiles, to aid

Foul Arvalan when he shall next appear; For well she ween'd his Spirit would renew Old vengeance now, with unremitting hate; The Enchantress well that evil nature knew; The accursed Spirit hath his prey in view; And thus, while all their separate hopes pursue, All work, unconsciously, the will of Fate.

16.

Fate work'd its own the while. A band
Of Yoguees, as they roam'd the land,
Seeking a spouse for Jaga-Naut, their God,
Stray'd to this solitary glade,

And reach'd the bower wherein the Maid abode.
Wondering at form so fair, they deem'd the Power
Divine had led them to his chosen bride,
And seized and bore her from her Father's side.

XIV.

JAGA-NAUT.

1.

Joy in the City of great Jaga-Naut! Joy in the seven-headed Idol's shrine! A Virgin-bride his ministers have brought, A mortal Maid, in form and face divine, Peerless among all daughters of mankind; Search'd they the world again from East to West, In endless quest,

Seeking the fairest and the best, No maid so lovely might they hope to find ;For she hath breathed celestial air, And heavenly food hath been her fare, And heavenly thoughts and feelings give her face That heavenly grace.

Joy in the City of great Jaga-Naut, Joy in the seven-headed Idol's shrine! The fairest Maid his Yoguees sought; A fairer than the fairest have they brought, A Maid of charms surpassing human thought, A Maid divine.

2.

Now bring ye forth the Chariot of the God! Bring him abroad,

That through the swarming City he may ride; And by his side

Place ye the Maid of more than mortal grace, The Maid of perfect form and heavenly face; Set her aloft in triumph, like a bride Upon the Bridal Car,

And spread the joyful tidings wide and far, Spread it with trump and voice,

That all may hear, and all who hear rejoice,Great Jaga-Naut hath found his mate! the God Will ride abroad!

To-night will he go forth from his abode !

Ye myriads who adore him,
Prepare the way before him!

3.

Uprear'd on twenty wheels elate,

Huge as a Ship, the Bridal Car appear'd; Loud creak its ponderous wheels, as through the gate

A thousand Bramins drag the enormous load.
There throned aloft in state,
The Image of the seven-headed God
Came forth from his abode; and at his side
Sat Kailyal 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 aught
Save hope and faith, that lived within her still.

4.

O silent Night, how have they startled thee
With the brazen trumpet's blare!

And thou, O Moon! whose quiet light serene Filleth wide heaven, and bathing hill and wood, Spreads o'er the peaceful valley like a flood, How have they dimm'd thee with the torches' glare,

Which round yon moving pageant flame and flare, As the wild rout, with deafening song and shout, Fling their long flashes out,

That, like infernal lightnings, fire the air.

5.

A thousand pilgrims strain

And fear hath given to her dilated eyes A wilder light.

Where shall those eyes be turn'd? she knows not where!

Downward they dare not look, for there

Is death, and horror, and despair;
Nor can her patient looks to Heaven repair,
For the huge Idol over her, in air,
Spreads his seven hideous heads, and wide
Extends their snaky necks on every side;
And all around, behind, before
The Bridal Car, is the raging rout,
With frantic shout and deafening roar,

Tossing the torches' flames about.
And the double double peals of the drum are there,
And the startling burst of the trumpet's blare;
And the gong, that seems, with its thunders dread,
To astound the living, and waken the dead.
The ear-strings throb as if they were rent,
And the eyelids drop as stunned and spent.
Fain would the Maid have kept them fast;
But open they start at the crack of the blast.

7.

Where art thou, Son of Heaven, Ereenia! where,
In this dread hour of horror and despair?
Thinking on him, 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.
Repel that wrongful thought,

O Maid! thou feelest, but believ'st it not;
It is thine own imperfect nature's fault
That lets one doubt of him arise within;
And this the Virgin knew; and like a sin
Repell'd the thought, and still believed him true,
And summon'd up her spirit to endure
All forms of fear, in that firm trust secure.

8.

She needs that faith, she needs that consolation, For now the Car hath measured back its track Of death, and hath reentered now its station. There, in the Temple-court, with song and dance, A harlot-band, to meet the Maid, advance.

main,

To drag that sacred wain,

And scarce can draw along the enormous load. Prone fall the frantic votaries in its road,

And calling on the God,

Their self-devoted bodies there they lay
To pave his chariot-way.

On Jaga-Naut they call;

The ponderous Car rolls on, and crushes all. Through flesh and bones it ploughs its dreadful path.

Groans rise unheard; the dying cry,
And death and agony

Are trodden under foot by yon mad throng, Who follow close, and thrust the deadly wheels along. 6.

Pale grows the Maid at this accursed sight;

The yells which round her rise
Have roused her with affright,

Are still; the frantic crowd forbear their yells; And sweet it was to hear the voice of song, And the sweet music of their girdle-bells, Armlets and anklets, that, with cheerful sound, Symphonious tinkled as they wheel'd around.

The astonish'd Maid they led, And there they laid her on the bridal bed. Then forth they go, and close the Temple-gate, And leave the wretched Kailyal to her fate.

10.

Where art thou, Son of Heaven, Ereenia, where?
From the loathed bed she starts, and in the air
Looks up, as if she thought to find him there;
Then, in despair,

Anguish, and agony, and hopeless prayer,
Prostrate she laid herself upon the floor.

There trembling as she lay,
The Bramin of the fane advanced,

And came to seize his prey.
But as the abominable Priest drew nigh,
A power invisible opposed his way;
Starting, he utter'd wildly a death-cry,
And fell. At that the Maid all eagerly
Lifted in hope her head;

She thought her own deliverer had been near;
When lo! with other life reanimate,

Where art thou, Son of Heaven, Ereenia, where ?
But not in vain, with sudden shriek of fear,
She calls Ereenia now; the Glendoveer
Is here! Upon the guilty sight he burst
Like lightning from a cloud, and caught the
accurs'd,

Bore him to the roof aloft, and on the floor With vengeance dash'd him, quivering there in gore.

Lo! from the pregnant air-heart-withering sight

There issued forth the dreadful Lorrinite.

Seize him! the Enchantress cried;
A host of Demons at her word appear,
And, like tornado winds, from every side
At once they rush upon the Glendoveer.
Alone against a legion, little here
Avails his single might,

Nor that celestial falchion, which in fight
So oft had put the rebel race to flight.
There are no Gods on earth to give him aid;
Hemm'd round, he is overpower'd, beat down, and
bound,

And at the feet of Lorrinite is laid.

12.

Meantime the scatter'd members of the slain, Obedient to her mighty voice, assumed Their vital form again,

And that foul Spirit, upon vengeance bent,
Fled to the fleshly tenement.

Lo! here, quoth Lorrinite, thou seest thy foe!
Him in the Ancient Sepulchres, below
The billows of the Ocean, will I lay;
Gods are there none to help him now, and there
For Man there is no way.
To that dread scene of durance and despair,

Asuras, bear your enemy! I go

To chain him in the Tombs. Meantime do thou, Freed from thy foe, and now secure from fear, Son of Kehama, take thy pleasure here.

13.

Her words the accursed race obey'd;

Forth with a sound like rushing winds they fled; And of all aid from Earth or Heaven bereft,

Alone with Arvalan the Maid was left. But in that hour of agony, the Maid Deserted not herself; her very dread Had calm'd her; and her heart Knew the whole horror, and its only part. Yamen, receive me undefiled! she said, And seized a torch, and fired the bridal bed. Up ran the rapid flames; on every side They find their fuel wheresoe'er they spread; Thin hangings, fragrant gums, and odorous wood, That piled like sacrificial altars stood. Around they run, and upward they aspire, And, lo! the huge Pagoda lined with fire.

14.

The wicked Soul, who had assumed again A form of sensible flesh for his foul will, Still bent on base revenge, and baffled still, Felt that corporeal shape alike to pain Obnoxious as to pleasure: forth he flew, Howling and scorch'd by the devouring flame; Accursed Spirit! Still condemn'd to rue, The act of sin and punishment the same. Freed from his loathsome touch, a natural dread Came on the self-devoted, and she drew Back from the flames, which now toward her spread, And, like a living monster, seem'd to dart Their hungry tongues toward their shrinking prey. Soon she subdued her heart; "O Father!" she exclaim'd, "there was no way But this! And thou, Ereenia, who for me Sufferest, my soul shall bear thee company."

4.

Their talk was of the City of the days Of old, Earth's wonder once, and of the fame Of Baly, its great founder, -he whose name, In ancient story and in poet's praise, Liveth and flourisheth for endless glory, Because his might

Put down the wrong, and aye upheld the right. Till for ambition, as old sages tell,

At length the universal Monarch fell: For he too, having made the World his own, Then in his pride, had driven

The Devetas from Heaven, And seized triumphantly the Swerga throne. The Incarnate came before the Mighty One, In dwarfish stature, and in mien obscure; The sacred cord he bore,

And ask'd, for Brama's sake, a little boon, Three steps of Baly's ample reign, no more. Poor was the boon required, and poor was he Who begg'd, - a little wretch it seem'd to be; But Baly ne'er refused a suppliant's prayer. He on the Dwarf cast down

A glance of pity in contemptuous mood,
And bade him take the boon,
And measure where he would.

5.

Lo, Son of giant birth,

I take my grant! the Incarnate Power replies.
With his first step he measured o'er the Earth;
The second spann'd the skies.
Three paces thou hast granted;
Twice have I set my footstep, Veeshnoo cries,
Where shall the third be planted?

6.

Then Baly knew the God, and at his feet, In homage due, he laid his humbled head. Mighty art thou, O Lord of Earth and Heaven, Mighty art thou! he said;

Be merciful, and let me be forgiven. He ask'd for mercy of the Merciful, And mercy for his virtue's sake was shown. For though he was cast down to Padalon, Yet there, by Yamen's throne, Doth Baly sit in majesty and might, To judge the dead, and sentence them aright. And forasmuch as he was still the friend Of righteousness, it is permitted him, Yearly, from those drear regions to ascend And walk the Earth, that he may hear his