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TRUBNER’8  ORIENTAL  SERIES 


“ A knowledge  of  the  commonplace,  at  least,  of  Oriental  literature,  philo- 
sophy, and  religion  is  as  necessary  to  the  general  reader  of  the  i>reseut  day 
as  an  acquaintance  with  the  Latin  and  Greek  classics  was  a generation  or  so 
ago.  Immense  strides  have  been  made  within  the  present  century  in  these 
branches  of  learning ; Sanskrit  has  been  brought  within  the  range  of  accurate 
philology,  and  its  invaluable  ancient  literature  thoroughly  investigated  ; the 
language  and  sacred  books  of  the  Zoroastrians  have  been  laid  bare ; Egyptian, 
Assyrian,  and  other  records  of  the  remote  past  have  been  deciphered,  and  a 
group  of  scholars  speak  of  still  more  recondite  Accadian  and  Hitiite  monu- 
ments ; but  the  results  of  all  the  scholarship  that  has  been  devoted  to  these 
subjects  have  been  almost  inaccessible  to  the  public  because  they  were  con- 
tained for  the  most  part  in  learned  or  expensive  works,  or  scattered  through- 
out the  numbers  of  scieutific  periodicals.  Messrs.  Tkubnek  & Co.,  in  a spirit 
of  enterprise  which  does  them  infinite  credit,  have  determined  to  supply  the 
constantly-increasing  want,  and  to  give  in  a popular,  or,  at  least,  a compre- 
hensive form,  all  this  mass  of  knowledge  to  the  world.” — Times. 


iVOTF  READY, 

Post  8vo,  pp.  568,  with  Map,  cloth,  price  i6s. 

THE  INDIAN  EMPIRE  : ITS  HISTORY,  PEOPLE, 
AND  PRODUCTS. 

Being  a revised  form  of  the  article  “India,”  in  the  “Imperial  Gazetteer,” 
remodelled  into  chapters,  brought  up  to  date,  and  incorporating 
the  general  results  of  the  Census  of  1881. 

By  W.  MT.  hunter,  C.I.E.,  LL.D., 

Director-General  of  Statistics  to  the  Government  of  India. 

“The  article  ‘India,’  in  Volume  IV.,  is  the  touchstone  of  the  work,  and  j^roves 
clearly  enough  the  sterling  metal  of  which  it  is  wrought.  It  represents  the  essence 
of  the  100  volumes  which  contain  tbe  results  of  the  statistical  survey  conducted  by 
Dr.  Hunter  throughout  each  of  the  240  districts  of  India.  It  is,  moreover,  the  onlv 
attempt  that  has  ever  been  made  to  show  how  tlie  Indian  people  have  been  built  up, 
and  the  evidence  from  the  original  materials  has  been  for  the  first  time  sifted  ami 
examined  by  the  light  of  the  local  research  in  which  the  author  was  for  so  long 
engaged.” — Times.  ° 


TRUBNER'S  ORIENTAL  SERIES. 


THE  FOLLOWING  WORKS  HAVE  ALREADY  APPEARED 

Second  Edition,  post  8vo,  cloth,  pp.  xvi. — 428,  price  i6s. 

ESSAYS  ON  THE  SACRED  LANGUAGE,  WRITINGS, 
AND  RELIGION  OF  THE  PARSIS. 

By  martin  HAUG,  Ph.D., 

Ente  of  the  Universities  of  Tubingen,  Gottingen,  and  Bonn  ; Superintendent 
of  Sanskrit  Studies,  and  Professor  of  Sanskrit  in  the  Poona  College. 

Edited  by  Dr.  E.  W.  WEST. 

I.  History  of  the  Researches  into  the  Sacred  Writings  and  Religion  of  the 
Parsis,  from  the  Earliest  Times  down  to  the  Present. 

I r.  Languages  of  the  Parsi  Scriptures. 

HI.  The  Zend-Avesta,  or  the  Scripture  of  the  Parsis. 

1 V.  The  Zoroastrian  Religion,  as  to  its  Origin  and  Development. 

“ ‘ Essays  on  the  Sacred  Language,  Writings,  and  Religion  of  the  Parsis,’  by  the 
late  Dr.  Martin  Haug,  edited  by  Dr.  E.  W.  West.  The  autlior  intended,  on  his  return 
from  India,  to  expand  the  materials  contained  in  this  work  into  a comprehensive 
account  of  the  Zoroastrian  religion,  but  the  design  was  frustrated  by  his  untimely 
death.*  We  have,  however,  in  a concise  and  readable  form,  a history  of  the  researches 
into  the  sacred  writings  and  religion  of  the  Parsis  from  the  earliest  times  down  to 
the  present — a dissertation  on  the  languages  of  the  Parsi  Scriptures,  a translation 
of  the  Zend-Avesta,  or  the  Scripture  of  the  Parsis,  and  a dissertation  on  the  Zoroas- 
trian religion,  with  especial  reference  to  its  origin  and  development.” — Titnes. 


Post  8vo,  cloth,  pp.  viii. — 176,  price  7s.  6d. 

TEXTS  FROM  THE  BUDDHIST  CANON 

COMMONLY  KNOWN  AS  “ DHAMMAPADA.” 

Willi  Accompanying  Narratives. 

Translated  from  the  Chinese  by  S.  BEAL,  B.  A.,  Professor  of  Chinese, 
University  College,  London. 

The  Dhammapada,  as  hitherto  known  by  the  Pali  Text  Edition,  as  edited 
by  Fausboll,  by  Max  Muller’s  English,  and  Albrecht  Weber’s  German 
translations,  consists  only  of  tw'enty-six  chapters  or  sections,  whilst  the 
Chinese  version,  or  rather  recension,  as  now  translated  by  Mr.  Beal,  con- 
sists of  thirty-nine  sections.  The  students  of  Pali  who  possess  Fausboll's 
text,  or  either  of  the  above-named  translations,  will  therefore  needs  want 
hir.  Beal’s  English  rendering  of  the  Chinese  version  ; the  thirteen  above- 
named  additional  sections  not  being  accessible  to  them  in  any  other  form  ; 
for,  even  if  they  understand  Chinese,  the  Chinese  original  would  be  un- 
obtainable by  them. 

“ Mr.  Beal’s  rendering  of  the  Chinese  translation  is  a most  valuable  aid  to  the 
critical  study  of  the  work.  It  confciins  authentic  texts  gatliered  from  ancient 
canonical  books,  and  generally  connected  with  some  incident  in  the  iiistory  of 
Buddha.  Their  groat  interest,  however,  consists  in  the  light  which  they  throw  ujxm 
everyday  life  in  India  at  the  remote  i)criod  at  which  they  were  written,  and  upon 
the  method  of  teaching  adopted  by  the  founder  of  the  religion.  The  method 
employed  was  principally  parable,  ami  the  simplicity  of  the  tales  and  the  excellence 
of  the  morals  inculcate<i,  as  well  as  the  strange  hold  which  they  have  retained  uixm 
the  minds  of  millions  of  peoi>le,  make  them  a voi-y  remarkable  study.” — Times. 

“ Mr.  Beal,  by  making  it  accossiblo  in  an  English  dress,  has  added  to  the  great  ser- 
vices he  has  already  rendered  to  the  comparative  study  of  religious  history.” — Academy. 

" Valuable  as  e.xliibiting  the  doctrine  of  the  Buddhists  in  its  purest,  least  adul- 
terated form,  it  brings  themodern  reader  face  to  face  with  that  simple,crcod  and  rule 
of  conduct  which  won  its  way  over  the  minds  of  myriads,  and  which  is  now  nominally 
professed  by  145  millions,  who  have  overlaid  its  austere  simplicity  with  innumerable 
ceremonies,  forgotten  its  m.axims,  perverted  its  teaching,  and  so  inverted  its  leading 
principle  that  a religion  whose  founder  denied  a God,  now  worships  that  founder  as 
a god  himself.” — Scotsman. 


TRUBNER'S  ORIENTAL  SERIES. 


Second  Edition,  post  8vo,  cloth,  jip.  xxiv.— 360,  price  los.  6d. 

THE  HISTORY  OF  INDIAN  LITERATURE. 

By  ALBRECHT  WEBER. 

Translated  from  the  Second  German  Edition  by  John  Mann,  M..\.,  and 
Th^odou  Zachauiak,  Ph.U.,  with  the  sanction  of  the  Author. 

Dr.  Bi'HLEB,  Inspector  of  Schools  in  India,  writes: — “When  I was  Pro- 
fes.sor  of  Oriental  Languages  in  Elphinstone  College,  I frequently  felt  the 
want  of  such  a work  to  which  I could  refer  the  students." 

Professor  CowEf.L,  of  Cambridge,  writes  : — “It  will  be  especially  useful 
to  the  students  in  our  Indian  colleges  and  universities.  I used  to  long  for 
such  a book  when  I was  teaching  in  Calcutta.  Hindu  students  are  intensely 
interested  in  the  history  of  Sanskrit  literature,  and  this  volume  will  supply 
them  with  all  they  want  on  the  subject.” 

Professor  Whitney,  Yide  College,  Newhaven,  Conn.,  U.S.A.,  writes;— 
“ I was  one  of  the  class  to  whom  the  work  was  onginally  given  in  the  form 
of  academic  lectures.  At  their  first  appearance  they  were  by  far  the  most 
le.arned  and  able  treatment  of  their  subject ; and  with  their  recent  additions 
they  still  maintaiu  decidedly  the  same  rank.” 

“ Is  perliaps  tlio  most  comprehensive  and  lucid  survey  of  S.anskrit  literature 
extant.  The  essays  contained  in  the  volume  were  originally  delivered  as  academic 
lectures,  and  at  the  time  of  their  first  publication  were  acknowledged  to  be  by  far 
the  most  learned  and  al>lo  treatment  of  the  subject.  They  have  now  been  brought 
up  to  date  by  the  addition  of  all  the  most  imporbmt  results  of  recent  research." — 
Times.  


Post  8vo,  cloth,  pp.  xii. — 198,  accompanied  by  Two  Language 
Maps,  price  12s. 

A SKETCH  OF 

THE  MODERN  LANGUAGES  OF  THE  EAST  INDIES. 

By  ROBERT  N.  CUST. 

The  Author  has  attempted  to  fill  up  a vacuum,  the  inconvenience  of 
which  pressed  itself  on  his  notice.  Much  had  been  written  about  the 
languages  of  the  East  Indies,  but  the  extent  of  our  present  knowledge  had 
not  even  been  brought  to  a focus.  It  occurred  to  him  that  it  might  be  of 
use  to  others  to  publish  in  an  arranged  form  the  notes  which  he  had  collected 
for  his  own  edification. 

“ Supplies  a deficiency  which  has  long  been  felt.” — Times. 

“ The  book  before  us  is  then  a valuable  contribution  to  philologic.al  science.  It 
passes  under  review  a vast  number  of  l.anguages,  and  it  gives,  or  professes  to  give,  in 
every  case  the  sum  and  substance  of  the  opinions  and  judgments  of  the  best-ii5onned 
writers." — Saturday  Review. 

Second  Corrected  Edition,  post  8vo,  pp.  xii. — 116,  cloth,  price  5s. 

THE  BIRTH  OF  THE  WAR-GOD. 

A Poem.  By  KALIDASA. 

Translated  from  the  Sanskrit  into  English  Verse  by 
Ralph  T.  H.  Gkiffith,  M.A. 

“ A very  spirited  rendering  of  the  Kumdrasambhara,  which  was  first  published 
twenty-six  years  ago,  and  which  we  are  glad  to  see  made  once  more  accessible." — 
Times. 

“ Mr.  Griffith’s  very  spirited  rendering  is  well  known  to  most  who  are  at  all 
interested  in  Indian  literature,  or  enjoy  the  tenderness  of  feeling  and  rich  creative 
imagination  of  its  author.” — Indian  Antiquary. 

“ We  are  very  glad  to  welcome  a second  edition  of  Professor  Griffith’s  admirable 
translation.  Few  translations  deserve  a second  edition  better.” — Athenaum. 


TRUBNER'S  ORIENTAL  SERIES. 


Post  8 VO,  pp.  432,  cloth,  price  16s. 

A CLASSICAL  DICTIONARY  OF  HINDU  MYTHOLOGY 
AND  RELIGION,  GEOGRAPHY,  HISTORY,  AND 
LITERATURE. 

By  JOHN  DOWSON,  M.R.A.S., 

Late  Professor  of  Hindustani,  Staff  College. 

“ This  not  only  forms  an  indisixsnsable  book  of  reference  to  students  of  Indmu 
literature,  but  is  also  of  great  general  interest,  as  it  gives  in  a concise  and  easily 
accessible  form  all  that  need  be  known  about  the  personages  of  Hindu  mythology 
whose  names  are  so  familiar,  but  of  whom  so  little  is  known  outside  the  limited 
circie  of  aavanU.” — Times. 

“.It  is  no  slight  gain  when  such  subjects  are  treated  fairly  and  fully  in  a moderate 
space  ; and  we  need  only  add  that  the  few  wants  which  we  may  hope  to  see  supplied 
in  new  editions  detract  but  little  from  the  general  excellence  of  Mr.  Dowson's  work.” 
— Saturday  Review. 

Post  8vo,  with  View  of  Mecca,  pp.  cxii. — 172,  cloth,  price  93. 

SELECTIONS  FROM  THE  KORAN. 

By  EDWARD  AVILLIAM  LANE, 

Translator  of  “ The  Thousand  and  One  Nights ; ” &c.,  &c. 

A New  Edition,  Revised  and  Enlarged,  with  an  Introduction  by 
Stanley  Lane  Poole. 

•■ . . . Has  been  long  esteemed  in  this  country  as  the  compilation  of  one  of  the 
greatest  Arabic  scholars  of  the  time,  the  late  Mr.  Lane,  the  well-known  translator  of 
the  ‘Arabian  Nights.’  . . . The  present  editor  has  enhanced  the  value  of  his 
relative’s  work  by  divesting  the  text  of  a great  deal  of  extraneous  matter  introduced 
by  way  of  comment,  and  prefixing  an  introduction.” — J’imes. 

“Mr.  Poole  is  both  a generous  and  a learned  biographer.  . . . Mr.  Poole  tells  us 
the  facta  ...  so  far  as  it  is  possible  for  industry  and  criticism  to  ascertain  them, 
and  for  literary  skill  to  jjreseut  them  in  a condensed  and  readable  larm.''— English- 
man, Calcutta. 

Post  8vo,  pp.  vi. — 368,  cloth,  price  14s. 

MODERN  INDIA  AND  THE  INDIANS, 

BEING  A SERIES  OF  IMPRESSIONS,  NOTES,  AND  ESSAYS. 

By  MONIER  williams,  D.C.L., 

Hon.  LL.D.  of  the  University  of  Calcutta,  Hon.  Member  of  the  Bombay  Asiatic 
Society,  Boden  Professor  of  Sanskrit  in  the  University  of  Oxfoi-d. 

Third  Edition,  revised  and  augmented  by  considerable  Additions, 
with  Illustrations  and  a Map. 

“ In  this  volume  we  have  the  thoughtful  impressions  of  a thoughtful  man  on  some 
of  the  most  important  questions  connected  with  our  Indian  Eminre.  . . . .\n  en- 
lightened ohservanc  man.  travelling  among  an  enlightened  observant  people.  Professor 
Monier  Williams  has  brought  before  the  public. in  a pleasant  form  more  of  the  manners 
and  customs  of  tho  Queen’s  Indian  subjects  than  we  ever- remember  to  have  seen  in 
any  one  work.  Ho  not  only  deserves  the  thanks  of  every  Englishman  for  this  able 
contribution  to  the  study  of  Modern  India— a subject  with  which  we  should  be 
specially  fandliar — but  ho  deserves  the  thanks  of  every  Indian,  Pai-sce  or  Hindu, 
Ihiddhist  and  Moslem,  for  his  clear  exposition  of  their  manners,  their  creeds,  and 
their  necessities.” — 2’imes.  

Post  8vo,  ]ip.  xliv. — 376.  cloth,  price  14s. 

METRICAL  TRANSLATIONS  FROM  SANSKRIT 
WRITERS. 

With  an  Introduction,  many  I’rose  Versions,  and  Parallel  Passages  from 
Classical  Authors. 

By  J.  MUIR,  C.I.E.,  D.C.L.,  LL.D.,  Ph.D. 

“.  . . An  ngrceablc  introduction  to  Hindu  poetry.” — Times. 

"...  A volume  which  may  ho  taken  as  a fair  lllustr.ition  alike  of  tho  religiouf 
and  moral  soutiments  and  of  tho  legendary  loro  of  tho  best  Sanskrit  writers.'’— 
Edinburgh  Daily  Review. 


TKC/B.V£/l'S  ORIENTAL  SERIES. 


Secoud  Editiou,  ixjst  8vo,  pp.  xxvL — 244,  cloth,  price  los.  6d. 

THE  GULISTAN; 

Or,  rose  GARDEX  OF  SIIEKH  MUSHLIU’D-DIN  SADI  OF  SHIRAZ. 

Translated  for  the  First  Time  into  Prose  and  Verse,  with  an  Introductory 
Preface,  and  a Life  of  the  Author,  from  the  Atish  Kadah, 

By  EDWARD  B.  EASTWICK,  C.B.,  M.A.,  F.R.S.,  M.R.A.S. 

“ It  la  a very  fair  rendering  of  the  original." — Times. 

“ The  new  edition  hi\a  long  been  de.sired,  and  will  l>o  welcomed  by  all  who  take 
any  interest  in  Oriental  poetry.  The  Galistan  is  a typical  Persian  verse-book  of  the 
highest  order.  Mr.  Eastwick's  rhymed  translation  . . . lias  long  establislied  itself  in 
a secure  position  as  tlie  best  version  of  Sadi's  hiiest  work.” — Academy. 

“ It  is  both  faithfully  and  gr.icefully  executed."— To 


In  Two  Volumes,  post  8vo,  pp.  viii. — 408  and  viii. — 348,  cloth,  price  28s. 

MISCELLANEOUS  ESSAYS  RELATING  TO  INDIAN 
SUBJECTS. 

By  BRIAN  HOUGHTON  HODGSON,  Esq.,  F.li.S., 

Late  of  the  Bengal  Civil  Service  ; Corresponding  Member  of  the  Institute  : Chevalier 
of  the  Legiou  of  Uonour;  latu  British  Minister  at  tne  Court  of  Nepal,  tx.,  &c. 

CONTENTS  OE  VOL.  I. 

Section  I. — On  the  Kocch,  B6d6,  and  Dhimdi  Tribes. — Part  I.  Vocabulary. — 
Part  II.  Grammar. — Part  111.  Their  Origin,  Location,  Numbers.  Creed,  Customs, 
Character,  and  Condition,  with  a General  Description  of  the  Climate  they  dwell  in. 
— .\ppendix. 

Section  II. — On  Himalayan  Ethnology — I.  Comparative  Vocabulary  of  the  Lan- 
guages of  the  Broken  Tribes  of  N^pal. — II.  Vocabulary  of  the  Dialects  of  the  Kiranti 
Language. — III.  Grammatical  Analysis  of  the  VAyu  Language.  The  Vdyn  Grammar. 
— IV.  Analysis  of  the  Balling  Dialect  of  the  Kinmti  Language.  The  Bihing  Gram- 
mar.— V.  On  the  Vayu  or  Hayu  Tribe  of  the  Central  Himalaya. — ^■I.  On  tne  Kiranti 
Tribe  of  the  Central  Himaldya. 

CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  II. 

Section  III. — On  the  .Aborigines  of  North-Eastern  India.  Comparative  Vocabulary 
of  the  Tibetan,  B6d6,  imd  Garb  Tongues. 

Section  IV. — Aborigines  of  the  North-Eastern  Frontier. 

Section  V. — Aborigines  of  the  Eastern  Frontier. 

Section  VI. — The  Indo-Chinese  Borderers,  and  their  connection  with  the  Hima- 
layans  and  Tibetans.  Comparative  Vocabulary  of  Indo-Chine.se  Borderers  in  Arakan. 
Comparative  Vocabulary  of  Indo-Chinese  Borderers  in  Tenasserim. 

Section  VII. — The  Mongolian  Affinities  of  the  Caucasians.— Comparison  and  Ana- 
lysis of  Caucasian  and  Mongolian  Words. 

Section  VIII. — Physical  Type  of  Tibetans. 

Section  IX. — The  Aborigines  of  Central  India. — Comparative  Vocabulary  of  the 
Aborimnal  Languages  of  Central  India. — Aborigines  of  the  Eastern  Ghats. — Vocabu- 
lary of  some  of  the  Dialects  of  the  Hill  ;md  Wandering  Th-ibes  in  the  Northern  Sircars. 
— Aborigines  of  the  Nilglris,  with  Remarks  on  their  Affinities. — Supplement  to  the 
Nilgirian  Vocabularies. — The  Aborigines  of  Southern  India  and  Ceylon. 

Section  X. — Route  of  Nepalese  Mission  to  Pekin,  with  Remarks  on  the  Water- 
shed and  Plateau  of  Tibet. 

Section  XI. — Route  from  Kithmdndii,  the  Capital  of  NepAl,  to  Darjeeling  in 
Sikim. — Memorandum  relative  to  the  Seven  Cosis  of  NepAl. 

Section  XII. — Some  Accounts  of  the  Systems  of  Law  and  Police  as  recognised  in 
the  State  of  Nepal. 

Section  XIII. — The  Native  Method  of  making  the  Paper  denominated  Hindustan, 
NApalese. 

Section  XIV. — Pre-eminence  of  the  Vernaculars;  or,  the  Anglicists  Answered: 
Being  Letters  on  the  Education  of  the  People  of  India. 

“ For  the  study  of  the  less-known  races  of  India  Mr.  Brian  Hodgson’s  'Miscellane- 
ous Essays ' will  be  found  very  valuable  both  to  the  philologist  and  the  ethnologist.” 
— Tima. 


TRUBNER'S  ORIENTAL  SERIES. 


Third  Edition,  Two  Vols.,  post  8vo,  pp.  viii. — 268  and  viii. — 326,  cloth, 
price  21s. 

THE  LIFE  OR  LEGEND  OF  GAUDAMA, 

THE  BUDDHA  OF  THE  BURMESE.  With  Annotations. 

Tlie  Ways  to  Neibban,  and  Notice  on  the  Phongyies  or  Burmese  Monks. 

By  the  Right  Rev.  P.  BIGANDET, 

Bishop  of  Ramatha,  Vicar- Apostolic  of  Ava  and  Pegu. 

“The  work  is  furnished  with  copious  notes,  which  not  only  illustrate  the  subject- 
matter,  but  form  a perfect  encyclopedia  of  Buddhist  lore.” — Times. 

“A  work  which  will  furnish  European  students  of  Buddhism  with  a most  valuable 
help  in  the  prosecution  of  their  Investigations.” — Edinburgh  Daily  Review. 

“ Bishop  Bigandet’s  invaluable  work.” — Indian  Antiquary. 

“ Viewed  in  this  light,  its  importance  is  sufficient  to  place  students  of  the  subject 
under  a deep  obligation  to  its  author.” — Calcutta  Reviev>. 

“This  work  is  one  of  the  greatest  authorities  upon  Buddhism.” — Dublin  Review. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  xxiv. — 420,  cloth,  price  i8s. 

CHINESE  BUDDHISM. 

A VOLUME  OF  SKETCHES,  HISTORICAL  AND  CRITICAL. 

By  J.  EDKINS,  D.D. 

Author  of  “ China’s  Place  in  Philology,”  “ Religion  in  China,”  &c.,  Ac. 

“It  contains  a vast  deal  of  important  information  on  the  subject,  such  as  is  only 
to  be  gained  by  long-continued  study  on  the  spot. " — A thenceum. 

“ Upon  the  whole,  we  know  of  no  work  comparable  to  it  for  the  extent  of  its 
original  research,  and  the  simplicity  with  which  this  complicated  system  of  philo- 
sophy, religion,  literature,  and  ritual  is  set  forth.” — British  Quarterly  Review. 

“ The  whole  volume  is  replete  with  learning.  ...  It  deserves  most  careful  study 
from  all  interested  in  the  history  of  the  religions  of  the  world,  and  expressly  of  those 
who  are  concerned  in  the  prop.agation  of  Christianity.  Dr.  Edkins  notices  in  terms 
of  just  condemnation  the  exaggerated  praise  bestowed  upon  Buddhism  by  recent 
English  writer's. ” — Record. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  496,  cloth,  price  i8s. 

LINGUISTIC  AND  ORIENTAL  ESSAYS. 

Written  from  the  Year  1846  to  1878. 

By  ROBERT  NEEDHAM  CUST, 

Late  Member  of  Her  Majesty’s  Indian  Civil  Service ; Hon.  Secretary  to 
the  Royal  Asiatic  Society ; 

and  Author  of  “ The  Modern  Languages  of  the  East  Indies.” 

“ Wo  know  none  who  has  described  Indian  life,  especially  the  life  of  the  natives, 
with  so  much  learning,  sympathy,  and  literary  talent.’' — Academy. 

“ They  seem  to  us  to  be  full  of  suggestive  and  original  remarks.”— Sf.  James's  Oasette. 

“ His  book  contains  a vast  amount  of  information.  The  result  of  thirty-five  years 
of  inquiry,  reflection,  and  speculation,  and  that  on  subjects  as  full  of  fascination  as 
of  food  for  thought.” — Tablet.  , 

“ Exliibit  such  a thorough  acquaintance  with  the  history  and  antiquities  of  India 
as  to  entitle  him  to  speak  ns  one  having  authority.”— JdtnlutrpA  Daily  Review. 

“ The  author  speaks  with  the  authority  of  personal  experience It  Is  this 

constant  assoolatlon  with  the  country  and  tho  pcoiflo  which  gives  such  a vividness 
to  many  of  the  pages.” — Alhtneeum. 


TRi/BXER'S  ORIENTAL  SERIES. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  civ.— 348,  cloth,  price  i8s. 

BUDDHIST  BIRTH  STORIES;  or,  Jataka  Tales. 

The  Oldest  Collection  of  Folk-lore  Extant : 

BEING  THE  J AT  AK  .VTTH  A V ANN  AN  A, 

For  the  first  time  Edited  in  the  original  Pali. 

By  V.  FAUSBOLL  ; 

And  Translated  by  T.  W.  Khys  Davids. 

Translation.  Volume  I. 

“ These  are  tales  supposed  to  have  been  told  by  the  Buddha  of  what  he  liad  seen 
and  heard  in  his  previous  births.  They  ore  probably  the  nearest  representatives 
of  the  original  Aryan  stories  from  which  sprang  the  folk-lore  of  Europe  as  well  as 
India.  The  introduction  contains  a most  interesting  disquisition  on  the  migrations 
of  these  fables,  tracing  their  reiipiicarance  in  the  various  groiqis  of  folk-lore  legends. 
Among  other  old  friends,  we  meet  with  a version  of  tlie  Judgment  of  Solomon." — Hints. 

“ It  is  now  some  years  since  Sir.  Rhys  Davids  asserted  his  right  to  be  heard  on 
this  subject  by  his  able  article  on  Buddhism  in  the  new  edition  of  the  ‘ Eucyclopffidia 
Biitaunica.”’ — Leeds  Mercury. 

“ All  who  are  interested  in  Buddhist  literature  ought  to  feel  deeply  indebted  to 
Mr.  Rhys  Darids.  His  well-established  reputation  as  a Pali  scholar  is  a sufficient 
guarantee  for  the  fidelity  of  his  version,  and  the  stylo  of  his  translations  is  deserving 
of  high  praise." — Academy. 

No  more  competent  expositor  of  Buddhism  could  be  found  than  Mr.  Rhys  Davids. 
In  the  Jataka  book  we  have,  then,  a priceless  record  of  the  earliest  imaginative 
literature  of  our  race ; and  ...  it  presents  to  us  a nearly  complete  picture  of  the 
social  life  and  customs  and  popular  beliefs  of  the  common  people  of  Aryan  tribes, 
closely  related  to  ourselves,  just  as  they  were  passing  through  the  first  stages  of 
civilisation.” — SI.  James's  Oazette. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  xxviiL — 362,  cloth,  price  14s. 

A TALMUDIC  MISCELLANY; 

Ok,  a thousand  AND  ONE  EXTKACTS  FROM  THE  TALMUD, 
THE  MIDRASHIM,  AND  THE  KABBALAH. 

Compiled  and  Translated  by  PAUL  ISAAC  HERSHON, 

Author  of  “ Genesis  According  to  the  Talmud,”  &c. 

With  Notes  and  Copious  Indexes. 

“ To  obtain  in  so  concise  and  h.andy  a form  as  this  volume  a general  idea  of  the 
Talmud  is  a boon  to  Christians  at  legist.” — Times. 

“ Its  peculi.ar  and  popular  character  will  make  it  attractive  to  general  readers. 
Mr.  Hershon  is  a very  competent  scholar.  . . . Contains  samples  of  the  good,  bad, 
and  indifferent,  and  especially  extracts  that  throw  light  upon  the  Scriptures." — 
British  Quarterly  Revieic. 

“ Will  convey  to  English  readers  a more  complete  and  truthful  notion  of  the 
Talmud  than  any  other  work  that  has  yet  appeared." — Daily  News. 

“ Without  overlooking  in  the  slightest  the  several  attractions  of  the  previous 
volumes  of  the  ‘ Oriental  Series.’  we  htive  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  this  surpasses 
them  aU  in  interest." — Edinburgh  Daily  Beview. 

Mr.  Hershon  has  . . . thus  given  English  readers  what  is,  we  believe,  a fair  set 
of  specimens  which  they  can  test  for  themselves." — The  Record. 

“ This  book  is  by  far  the  best  fitted  in  the  present  state  of  knowledge  to  enable  the 
general  reader  to  gain  a fair  and  unbiassed  conception  of  the  multifarious  contents 
of  the  wonderful  miscellany  which  can  only  be  truly  understood — so  Jewish  pride 
;isserts — by  the  life-long  devotion  of  scholars  of  the  Chosen  People.” — Inquirer. 

“ The  value  and  importance  of  this  volume  consist  in  the  fact  that  scarcely  a single 
extract  is  given  in  its  pages  but  throws  some  light,  direct  or  refracted,  upon  those 
Scriptures  which  are  the  common  heritage  of  Jew  and  Christian  alike.” — John  Bull. 

“ It  is  a capital  specimen  of  Hebrew  scholarship  ; a monument  of  learned,  loving, 
light-giving  lalxiur." — Jewish  Herald. 


TRUBNER'S  ORIENTAL  SERIES. 


Post  8vo,  ]ip.  xii. — 228,  cloth,  price  7s.  6d. 

THE  CLASSICAL  POETRY  OF  THE  JAPANESE. 

By  basil  hall  chamberlain, 

Author  of  “ Yeigo  Heiikaku  Shiran." 

" A very  curious  volume.  The  author  has  manifestly  devoted  much  labour  to  the 
task  of  studying  the  poetical  literature  of  the  Japanese,  and  rendering  characteristic 
specimens  into  English  verse.” — Daily  News. 

“ Mr.  Chamberlain’s  volume  is,  so  far  as  we  are  aware,  the  first  attempt  which  has 
been  made  to  interpret  the  literature  of  the  Japanese  to  the  Western  world.  It  is  to 
the  classical  poetry  of  Old  Japan  that  we  must  turn  for  indigenous  Japanese  thought, 
and  in  the  volume  before  us  we  have  a selection  from  that  poetry  rendered  into 
graceful  English  verse.” — Tablet. 

“ It  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  best  translations  of  lyric  literature  which  h.as 
appeared  during  the  close  of  the  last  year.” — Celestial  Empire. 

“Mr.  Chamberlain  set  himself  a difficult  task  when  he  \mdertook  to  reproduce 
Japanese  poetiy  in  an  English  form.  But  he  has  evidently  laboured  con  amore,  and 
his  efforts  are  successful  to  a degree.” — London  and  China  Express. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  xii. — 164,  cloth,  price  los.  6d. 

THE  HISTORY  OF  ESARHADDON  (Son  of  Sennacherib), 

KING  OF  ASSYRIA.  B.c.  681-C68. 

Translated  from  the  Cuneiform  Inscriptions  upon  Cylinders  and  Tablets  in 
the  British  Museum  Collection ; together  with  a Grammatical  Analysis 
of  each  AYord,  Explanations  of  the  Ideographs  by  Extracts  from  the 
Bi-Lingual  Syllabaries,  and  List  of  Eponyms,  &c. 

By  ERNEST  A.  BUDGE,  B.A.,  M.R.A.S., 

Assyrian  Exhibitioner,  Christ’s  College,  Cambridge. 

“Students  of  scriptural  archaeology  will  also  appreciate  the  ‘History  of  Esar- 
haddon.’  ” — Times. 

“ There  is  much  to  attract  the  scholar  in  this  volume.  It  does  not  pretend  to 
popularise  studies  which  are  yet  in  their  infancy.  Its  primary  object  is  to  translate, 
but  it  does  not  assume  to  be  more  tlian  tentative,  and  it  offers  both  to  the  professed 
Assyriologist  and  to  the  ordinary  non-Assyriological  Semitic  scholar  the  means  of 
controlling  its  results."— .Academy. 

“Mr.  Budge’s  book  is,  of  course,  mainly  addressed  to  Assyrian  scholars  and 
students.  They  are  not,  it  is  to  be  feared,  a very  numerous  class.  But  the  more 
thanks  are  due  to  him  on  that  account  for  the  way  in  which  he  has  acquitted  himself 
in  his  laborious  task.” — Tablet. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  448,  cloth,  price  21s. 

THE  MESNEVI 

(Usually  known  as  The  Mesneviyi  Sherif,  or  Holy  Mesnevi) 

OF 

MEYLANA  (OUR  LORD)  JELALU  ’D-DIN  MUHAMMED  ER-RUMI. 
Book  the  First. 

Together  with  name  Aecount  of  the  Life  and  Acts  of  the  Author, 
of  his  Ancestors,  and  of  his  Descendants. 

Illustrated  by  a Selection  of  Cliaracteristic  Anecdotes,  as  Collected 
by  their  Historian, 

Mevlana  Shemsu-’D-Din  Ahmed,  el  Eflaki,  el  ‘Arifi. 
Translated,  and  the  Poetry  Versified,  in  English, 

By  JAMES  W.  RED  HO  USE,  M.  R.  A.  S.,  &c.' 

“ A complete  treasury  of  occult  Oriental  lore.” — Saturday  Eeriew. 

“This  book  will  be  a very  valu.ablo  help  to  the  reader  ignorant  of  Persia,  who  is 
desirous  of  obtaining  an  insight  into  a very  important  department  of  the  literature 
extant  in  that  language.'— TuMcf. 


T/!l/S.\’£R‘S  ORIENTAL  SERIES. 


Post  8 VO,  pp.  xvi.— 280,  cloth,  price  6s. 

EASTERN  PROVERBS  AND  EMBLEMS 

Illustrating  Old  Truths. 

By  Rev.  J.  LONG, 

Member  of  the  Bengal  Asiatic  Society,  F.R.G.S. 

“ Wo  regard  tho  book  as  valuable,  and  wish  for  it  a wide  circulation  and  attentive 
rcjiding." — Record. 

“ Altogether,  it  is  quite  a feast  of  good  things."— Cfo4«. 

“ It  is  full  of  interesting  matter." — Antiquary. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  viii. — 270,  cloth,  price  7s.  6d. 

INDIAN  POETRY; 

Containing  a New  Edition  of  the  “ Indian  Song  of  Songs,”  from  the  Sanscrit 
of  the  “Gita  Govinda"  of  Jayadeva ; Two  Books  from  “The  Iliad  of 
India’’  (Mahabharata),  “Proverbial  Wisdom  ” from  the  Shlokas  of  the 
Hitopade.sa,  and  other  Oriental  Poems. 

Br  EDWIN  ARNOLD,  C.S.I.,  Author  of  “The  Light  of  Asia.” 

“ In  this  new  volume  of  Messrs.  Trllbner's  Oriental  Scries,  Jlr.  Edwin  Arnold  docs 
good  service  by  illustrating,  through  the  medium  of  his  musical  English  melodics, 
the  power  of  Indian  poetry  to  stir  European  emotions.  The  ‘ Indhin  Song  of  Songs  ’ 
is  not  unknown  to  scholars.  Mr.  Arnold  will  have  introduced  it  among  popmar 
English  poems.  Nothing  could  be  more  graceful  and  delicate  than  the  shades  by 
which  Krishna  is  portrayed  in  the  gradual  process  of  being  weaned  by  the  love  of 
‘ Beautiful  Radha,  j.asmine-bosomed  Kadha,’ 
from  the  allurements  of  the  forest  nymphs,  in  whom  the  five  senses  are  typified." — 
Timet. 

“ No  other  English  poet  has  ever  thrown  his  genius  and  bis  art  so  thoroughly  into 
the  work  of  translating  Eastern  ideas  as  Mr.  Arnold  has  done  in  his  splendid  para- 
phrases of  language  contained  in  these  mighty  epics."  —Daily  Telegraph. 

“ The  poem  abounds  with  imagery  of  Eastern  luxuriousness  and  sensuousntss ; the 
air  seems  laden  with  the  spicy  odours  of  the  tropics,  and  the  verse  h,as  a richness  and 
a melody  sufficient  to  captivate  the  senses  of  the  dullest." — Standard. 

“ Iffie  translator,  while  producing  a very  enjoyable  poem,  has  adhered  with  toler- 
able fidelity  to  the  original  tcTt-t."— Overland  Mail. 

“We  certainly  wish  Mr.  Arnold  success  in  his  attempt  ‘to  popularise  Indian 
classics,'  that  being,  as  his  preface  tells  us,  the  goal  towards  which  he  bends  his 
efforts." — Allen's  Indian  Mail. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  xvi. — 296,  cloth,  price  los.  6d. 

THE  MIND  OF  MENCIUS ; 

Or,  political  ECONOMY  FOUNDED  UPON  MORAL 
PHILOSOPHY. 

A Systematic  Digest  of  the  Doctrines  of  the  Chinese  Philosopher 
Mencius. 

Translated  from  the  Original  Text  and  Classified,  with 
Comments  and  Explanations, 

By  the  Rev.  ERNST  FABER,  Rhenish  Mission  Society. 

Translated  from  the  German,  with  Additional  Notes, 

By  the  Rev.  A.  B.  HUTCHINSON,  C.M.S.,  Church  Mission,  Hong  Kong. 

“ Mr.  Faber  is  already  weU  known  in  the  field  of  Chinese  studies  by  his  digest  of 
the  doctrines  of  Confucius.  The  value  of  this  work  will  be  perceived  when  it  is 
remembered  that  at  no  time  since  relations  commenced  between  China  and  the 
West  has  the  former  been  so  powerful — we  had  almost  said  aggressive — as  now. 
For  those  who  will  give  it  careful  study,  Mr.  Faber’s  work  is  one  of  the  most 
valuable  of  the  excellent  series  to  which  it  belongs.” — Nature. 


TRUBNER'S  ORIENTAL  SERIES. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  336,  clotb,  price  i6s. 

THE  RELIGIONS  OF  INDIA. 

By  a.  BARTH. 

Translated  from  the  French  -with  the  authority  and  assistance  of  the  Author. 

The  author  has,  at  the  request  of  the  publishers,  considerably  enlarged 
the  work  for  the  translator,  and  has  added  tlie  literature  of  the  subject  to 
date  ; the  translation  may,  therefore,  be  looked  upon  as  an  equivalent  of  a 
new  and  imiiroved  edition  of  the  original. 

“ Is  not  only  a valuable  manual  of  the  religions  of  India,  which  marks  a distinct 
step  in  the  treatment  of  the  subject,  but  also  a useful  work  of  reference.” — Academy. 

“This  volume  is  a reproduction,  with  corrections  and  additions,  of  an  article 
contributed  by  the  learned  author  two  years  ago  to  the  ‘ Encyclopedie  des  Sciences 
Religieuses.’  It  attracted  much  notice  when  it  first  appeared,  and  is  generally 
admitted  to  present  the  best  summary  extant  of  the  vast  subject  with  which  it 
deals.” — Tablet. 

“ This  is  not  only  on  the  whole  the  best  but  the  only  manu.al  of  the  religions  of 
India,  apart  from  Buddhism,  whicli  we  have  in  English.  The  present  work  . . . 
shows  not  only  great  knowledge  of  the  facts  and  power  of  clear  exposition,  but  also 
great  insight  into  the  inner  history  and  the  deeper  meaning  of  the  great  religion, 
for  it  is  in  reality  only  one,  which  it  proposes  to  describe.” — Modem  Revieio. 

“ The  merit  of  the  work  has  been  emphatically  recognised  by  the  most  authoritative 
Orientalists,  both  in  this  country  and  on  the  continent  of  Europe,  But  probably 
there  are  few  Indianists  (if  we  may  use  the  word)  who  would  not  derive  a good  deal 
of  information  from  it,  and  especially  from  the  extensive  bibliography  provided  in 
the  notes." — Dublin  Review. 

“ Such  a sketch  51.  Barth  has  drawn  with  a master-hand." — Critic  (New  Tork). 


Post  8vo,  pp.  viii. — 152,  cloth,  price  6s. 

HINDU  PHILOSOPHY. 

The  SANKHYA  KARIKA  of  IS'WARA  KRISHNA. 

An  Exposition  of  the  System  of  Kapila,  with  an  Appendix  on  the 
Nyaya  and  Vais'eshika  Systems. 

By  JOHN  DAVIES,  M.A.  (Cantab.),  M.R.A.S. 

The  system  of  Kapila  contains  nearly  all  that  India  has  produced  in  the 
department  of  pure  philosophy. 

“ The  non  Orientalist  . . . finds  in  5Ir.  Davies  a patient  and  le.amed  guide  who 
leads  him  into  the  intricacies  of  the  philosophy  of  India,  and  supplies  him  with  a clue, 
that  ho  may  not  be  lost  in  them.  In  the  preface  he  states  that  the  system  of 
Kapila  is  the  ‘earliest  attempt  on  record  to  give  an  answer,  from  re.oson  alone, 
to  the  mysterious  questions  which  arise  in  every  thoughtful  mind  al«jut  the  origin  of 
the  world,  the  nature  and  relations  of  man  and  his  future  destiny,’  and  in  his  learned 
and  able  notes  he  exhibits  ‘ the  connection  of  the  Sankhya  system  with  the  philo- 
sophy of  Spinoza,’  and  ‘ the  connection  of  the  system  of  K.apila  with  that  of  Schopeu- 
hatier  and  Von  Hartmann.’  " — Foreign  Church  Chrotiicle. 

“ Mr.  Davies’s  volume  on  Hindu  Philosophy  is  an  undoubted  gain  to  all  students 
of  the  development  of  thought.  The  system  of  Kapila,  which  is  here  given  in  a trans- 
lation from  the  Siinkhya  Kfirika,  is  the  only  contribution  of  Imiia  to  pure  philosophy. 
. . . Presents  m,any  points  of  deep  interest  to  the  student  of  comparative  puilo- 
sophy,  and  without  5Ir.  Davies’s  lucid  interpretation  it  would  bo  difiicult  to  oppre- 
ciato  these  points  in  any  adequate  manner.” — Saturday  Revieio. 

“ We  welcome  5Ir.  Davies’s  book  as  a valuable  addition  to  our  philosophical 
library.’’ — Notes  and  Queries. 


T/H/BXE/l'S  OR/E.VTAL  SER/ES. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  X. — 130,  cloth,  price  6s. 

A MANUAL  OF  HINDU  PANTHEISM.  VEDANTASARA. 

Translated,  with  copious  Annotations,  by  M.\JOR  G.  A.  JACOB, 
Bombay  Staff  Corps  ; Inspector  of  Army  Schools. 

The  design  of  this  little  work  is  to  provide  for  missionaries,  and  for 
others  who,  like  them,  have  little  leisure  for  original  research,  an  accurate 
summary  of  the  doctrines  of  the  VedUnta. 

“There  c:m  be  no  question  that  the  religious  doctrines  most  widely  held  by  tlie 
people  of  India  are  mainly  Pantheistic.  And  of  Hindu  Pantheism,  at  all  events  in 
its  most  modern  phases,  its  Ved&utasAra  presents  the  best  summary.  But  then  this 
work  is  a mere  summary  : a skeleton,  the  dry  bones  of  which  require  to  be  clotlied 
with  skin  and  bones,  and  to  be  animated  by  vital  breath  before  the  ordinary  reader 
will  discern  in  it  a living  reality.  Major  Jacob,  therefore,  has  wisely  added  to  his 
translation  of  the  Vedintiisilra  copious  notes  from  the  writings  of  well-known  Oriental 
scholars,  in  which  he  has,  wo  think,  elucidated  all  that  required  elucid-ation.  Bo 
that  the  work,  as  here  presented  to  us,  presents  no  difficulties  which  a very  moderate 
amount  of  application  will  not  overcome." — Tablet. 

“ The  modest  title  of  Major  Jacob’s  work  conveys  but  an  inadequate  idea  of  the 
vast  amount  of  research  embodied  in  his  notes  to  the  text  of  the  Vcdant.asara.  So 
copious,  indeed,  are  these,  and  so  much  collateral  matter  do  they  bring  to  bear  on 
the  subject,  that  the  diligent  student  will  rise  from  their  perusal  with  a fairly 
adequate  view  of  Hindu  philosophy  generally.  His  work  ...  is  one  of  the  best  of 
its  kind  that  wo  have  seen." — Calcutta  Revieic. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  xii. — 154,  cloth,  price  78.  6d. 

TSUNI— I I GO  AM  : 

The  Supreme  Being  of  the  Khoi-Khoi. 

By  THEOPHILUS  HAHN,  Ph.D., 

Custodian  of  the  Grey  Collection,  Cape  Town  ; Corresponding  Member 
of  the  Gesgr.  Society,  Dresden  ; Corresponding  Member  of  the 
Anthropological  Society,  Vienna,  &c.,  &c. 

“The  first  instalment  of  Dr.  Hahn’s  labours  will  be  of  interest,  not  at  the  Cape 
only,  but  in  every  University  of  Europe.  It  is,  in  fact,  a most  valuable  contribution 
to  the  comparative  study  of  religion  and  mythology.  Accounts  of  their  religion  and 
mythology  were  scattered  about  in  various  books ; these  have  been  carefully  col- 
lected by  Dr.  Hahn  and  printed  in  his  second  chapter,  enriched  and  improved  by 
what  he  has  been  able  to  collect  himself." — Pro/.  JJajc  iliUler  in  the  nineteenth 
Century. 

“ Dr.  Hahn’s  book  is  that  of  a man  who  is  both  a philologist  and  believer  in 
philological  methods,  and  a close  student  of  savage  manners  and  customs." — Satur- 
day Review. 

“ It  is  full  of  good  things.” — St.  James's  Gasette. 


In  Four  Volumes.  Vol.  L,  post  8vo,  pp.  xii. — 392,  cloth,  price  12s.  6d. 

A COMPREHENSIVE  COMMENTARY  TO  THE  QURAN. 

To  WHICH  IS  PREFIXED  SaLE's  PRELIMINARY  DISCOURSE,  WITH 
Additional  Notes  and  Emendations. 

Together  with  a Complete  Index  to  the  Text,  Preliminary 
Discourse,  and  Notes. 

By  Rev.  E.  M.  WHERRY,  M.A.,  Lodiana. 

“ As  Mr.  Wherry’s  book  is  intended  for  mission.iries  in  India,  it  is  no  doubt  well 
that  they  should  be  prepared  to  meet,  if  they  can,  the  ordinary  arguments  and  inter- 
pretations, and  for  this  purpose  Mr.  \^erry’s  additions  wiU  prove  useful.” — Saturday 
Review. 


TRUBNER’S  ORIENTAL  SERIES. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  vi. — 208,  cloth,  price  8s.  6d. 

THE  BHAGAV  AD-GIT  A. 

Translated,  with  Introduction  and  Notes, 

By  JOHN  DAVIE.S,  M.A.  (Cantab.) 

“Let  us  add  that  his  translation  of  the  Bhagavad  GitS.  is,  as  we  judge,  the  best 
that  has  as  yet  appeared  in  English,  and  that  his  Philological  Notes  are  of  quite 
peculiar  value.” — Dublin  Review. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  96,  cloth,  price  5s. 

THE  QUATRAINS  OF  OMAR  KHAYYAM. 

Translated  by  E.  H.  WHINFIELD,  M.A., 
Bamster-at-Law,  late  H.M.  Bengal  Civil  Service. 

Omar  Khayyam  (the  tent-maker)  was  born  about  the  middle  of  the  fifth 
century  of  the  Hejirah,  corresponding  to  the  eleventh  of  the  Christian  era, 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Naishapur,  the  capital  of  Khorasan,  and  died  in 
517  A.H.  ( = 1122  A.D.) 

“Mr.  Whinfield  has  executed  a difficult  task  with  considerable  success,  and  his 
version  contains  much  that  will  be  new  to  those  who  only  know  Mr.  Fitzgerald's 
delightful  selection." — Academy. 

‘ ‘ There  are  several  editions  of  the  Quatrains,  varying  greatly  in  their  readings. 
Mr.  Whinfield  has  used  three  of  these  for  his  excellent  translation.  The  most  pro- 
minent features  in  the  Quatrains  are  their  profound  agnosticism,  combined  with  a 
fatalism  based  more  on  philosophic  than  religious  grounds,  their  Epicureanism  and 
the  spirit  of  universal  tolerance  and  charity  which  animates  them.” — Calcutta  Review. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  xxiv. — 268,  cloth,  price  9s. 

THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  UPANISHADS  AND 
ANCIENT  INDIAN  METAPHYSICS. 

As  exhibited  in  a series  of  Articles  contributed  to  the  Calcutta  Review. 

By  ARCHIBALD  EDWARD  GOUGH,  M.A.,  Lincoln  College,  Oxford ; 
Principal  of  the  Calcutta  Madr.asa. 

“ For  practical  purposes  this  is  perhaps  the  most  important  of  the  works  that  have 
thus  far  appeared  in  ‘Trtibner’s  Oriental  Series.’  . . . We  cannot  doubt  that  for  all 
who  may  take  it  up  the  work  must  bo  one  of  profound  interest.  " — Saturday  Review. 


In  Two  Volumes.  Vol.  I.,  post  8vo,  pp.  xxiv.— 230,  cloth,  price  7s.  6d. 

A COMPARATIVE  HISTORY  OF  THE  EGYPTIAN  AND 
MESOPOTAMIAN  RELIGIONS. 

By  Dr.  C.  P.  TIELE. 

Vol.  I.— History  op  the  Egyptian  Religion. 

Translated  from  the  Dutch  with  the  Assistance  of  the  Author. 

By  JAMES  BALLINGAL. 

“ It  places  in  tho  hands  of  the  English  readers  a history  of  Egyptian  Religion 
which  is  very  complete,  which  is  based  on  tho  best  materials,  and  which  has  been 
illustrated  by  the  latest  results  of  research.  In  this  volume  there  is  a great  deal  of 
information,  as  well  as  independent  investigation,  for  tho  trustworthiness  of  which 
Dr.  Tide’s  name  is  in  itself  a guarantee ; and  tho  description  of  the  successive 
religions  under  tho  Old  Kingdom,  tho  Middle  Kingdom,  and  tho  New  Kingdom,  is 
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TRUBNER'S  ORIENTAL  SERIES. 


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YUSUF  AND  ZULAIKHA. 

A POE.M  BY  JAMI. 

Traosluted  from  the  Persian  into  English  Verse. 

By  U.\LPH  T.  H.  GKIFFITH. 

" Mr.  GrifBtli,  who  has  done  already  good  service  as  translator  into  verse  from  the 
Sanskrit,  h;is  done  further  good  work  m this  translation  from  the  Persian,  and  he 
has  evidently  shown  not  a little  skill  in  his  rendering  the  quaint  and  very  orienhd 
stylo  of  his  author  into  our  more  prosaic,  less  figurative,  language.  . . . The  work, 
besides  its  intrinsic  merits,  is  of  importance  as  being  one  of  the  most  popular  and 
famous  poems  of  Persia,  and  that  wliich  is  read  in  all  the  independent  native  schools 
of  India  wliore  Persian  is  taught.  It  is  interesting,  also,  as  a striking  instance  of 
the  manner  in  which  the  stories  of  tlie  Jews  have  been  transformed  and  added  to  by 
tr.idition  among  the  .Mahometans,  who  look  upon  Joseph  as  ‘ the  ideal  of  manly  beauty 
and  more  than  manly  virtue  ; ’ and,  indeed,  in  this  p<iem  he  seems  to  be  endowed  with 
almost  divine,  or  at  any  rate  angelic,  gifts  and  excellence."— Scofsman. 


Post  8 VO,  pp.  viii. — 266,  cloth,  price  93. 

LINGUISTIC  ESSAYS. 

By  carl  ABEL. 


CONTENTS. 


Language  as  the  Expression  of  National 
Modes  of  Thought. 

The  Conception  of  Love  in  some  Ancient 
and  Modern  Langu.ages. 

The  English  Verbs  of  Command. 
Semariology. 

Philological  Methods. 

The  Origin 


The  Connection  between  Dictionary  and 
Grammar. 

The  Possibility  of  a Common  Literary 
Langu.age  for  all  Slavs. 

The  Order  and  Position  of  Words  in  the 
Latin  Sentence. 

The  Coptic  Ijanguage. 
f Language. 


“ All  these  es.says  of  Dr.  Abel’s  are  so  thoughtful,  so  full  of  happy  illustrations, 
and  so  admirably  put  togetlier,  that  we  hardly  know  to  which  we  should  specially 
tui-n  to  select  for  our  readers  a sample  of  his  workmanship." — Tablet. 

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real  human  interest  to  the  otherwise  dry  technicalities  of  the  science." — Standard. 

“ Ur.  Abel  is  an  opponent  from  whom  it  is  ple.asant  to  differ,  for  he  writes  with 
enthusiasm  and  temper,  and  his  mastery  over  the  English  language  fits  him  to  be  a 
champion  of  unpopular  doctrines." — Athenaum. 

“ Dr.  Abel  writes  very  good  English,  and  much  of  his  book  will  prove  entertaining 
to  the  general  reader.  It  may  give  some  useful  hints,  and  suggest  some  subjects  for 
profitable  investigation,  even  to  philologists." — Nation  (New  I’ort). 


Post  8vo,  pp.  ix. — 281,  cloth,  price  los.  6d. 

THE  SARVA  - DARSANA  - SAMGRAHA  ; 

Or,  review  of  the  DIFFERENT  SYSTEBIS  OF  HINDU 
PHILOSOPHY. 

By  MADHAVA  ACHARYA. 

Translated  by  E.  B.  COWELL,  M.  A.,  Professor  of  Sanskrit  in  the  University 
of  Uainbridge,  and  A.  E.  GOUGH,  M.A.,  Professor  of  Philosophy 
in  the  Presidency  College,  Calcutta. 

This  work  is  an  interesting  specimen  of  Hindu  critical  ability.  The 
.author  successively  passes  in  review  the  sixteen  philosophical  systems 
current  in  the  fourteenth  century  in  the  South  of  India ; and  he  gives  what 
appears  to  him  to  be  their  most  important  tenets. 

“The  translation  is  trustworthy  throughout.  A protracted  sojourn  in  India, 
where  there  is  a living  tradition,  has  famUiarised  the  translators  with  Indian 
thought.” — Athenaum. 


TRUBNER'S  ORIENTAL  SERIES. 


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THE  QUATRAINS  OF  OMAR  KHAYYAM. 

The  Persian  Text,  with  an  English  Verse  Translation. 

By  B.  H.  WHIXFIELD,  late  of  the  Bengal  Civil  Service. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  Ixv. — 368,  cloth,  price  14s. 

TIBETAN  TALES  DERIVED  FROM  INDIAN  SOURCES. 

Translated  from  the  Tibetan  of  the  Kah-Gtck. 

By  F.  ANTON  VON  SCHIEFNER. 

Done  into  English  from  the  German,  with  an  Introduction, 

By  W.  R.  S.  RALSTON,  U.A. 

“The  Tibetan  Tales  have  been  translated  by  Mr.  Ralston  from  the  German  version 
of  Schiefiier.  Mr.  Ralston  adds  an  introduction,  which  even  the  most  persevering 
children  of  Mother  Goose  will  probably  find  infinitely  the  most  interesting  portion 
of  the  work." — Saturdny  Review. 

“Mr.  Ralston,  wLiose  name  is  so  familiar  to  all  lovers  of  Russian  folk-lore,  has 
supplied  some  interesting  Western  analogies  and  parallels,  drawn,  for  the  most  part, 
from  Slavonic  sources,  to  the  Eastern  folk-tales,  cuUed  from  the  Kahgyur,  one  of  the 
divisions  of  the  Tibetan  sacred  books.” — Academy. 

“ Tlie  translation  here  presented  of  F.  Anton  Schiefner's  work  could  sc.arcely  have 
fallen  into  better  Inands  than  tliose  of  Mr.  Ibvlston.  An  Introduction  of  some  sixty- 
four  pages  gives  the  leading  facts  in  the  lives  of  those  scholars  who  have  given  their 
attention  to  gaining  a knowledge  of  the  Tibetan  literature  and  language,  as  well  as  an 
analysis  of  tlie  tales." — Calcutta  Review. 

“ . . . Ought  to  interest  all  who  care  for  the  East,  for  amusing  stories,  or  for  com- 
parative lolk-lore.  Mr.  Ralston  . . . makes  no  pretension  to  being  considered 
an  Orientalist ; but  he  is  an  expert  in  story-telling,  and  in  knowledge  of  tlie  com- 
parative history  of  popular  tales  he  has  few  rivals  in  England." — Pall  Nall  Gazette. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  xvi. — 224,  cloth,  price  9s. 

UDANAVARGA. 

A Collection  of  Verses  from  the  Buddhist  Canon. 

Compiled  by  DHA.RMATRATA. 

Being  the  NORTHERN  BUDDHIST  VERSION  of  DHAMMAPADA. 

Translated  from  the  Tibetan  of  Bkah-hgyur,  with  Notes,  and 
Extracts  from  the  Commentary  of  Pradjnavarman, 

By  W.  WOODVILLE  ROCKHILL. 

“ Mr.  Rockhill's  present  work  is  the  first  from  which  assistance  will  be  gaiuoil 
for  a more  accurate  understanding  of  the  I’.ali  text;  it  is.  in  fact,  as  yet  the  only 
term  of  comp.arison  available  to  us.  The  ‘ Udanavarga,’  the  Thibetan  version,  wa.s 
originally  discoverc  1 by  the  late  M.  Schiefner,  who  published  too  Tibuun  text,  and 
had  intended  adding  a translation,  an  intention  frustrated  by  his  death,  but  which 
has  been  carried  out  by  Mr.  Uockhill.  . . . Mr.  Rockhill  may  bo  congratulated  for 
having  well  accomplished  a difficult  task.” — Saturday  Riviev). 

“ There  is  no  need  to  look  far  into  this  book  to  bo  assured  of  its  value."-L.,ffAr7i<rmn. 

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directness  and  force  which  belong  to  the  sayings  of  Gautama,  when  they  have  not 
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By  Lieut. -Gen.  Siu  ^VRTHUR  P.  PHAYRE,  G.C.M.G.,  K.C.S.I.,  andC.B., 
Membre  Correspondant  de  la  Soci6te  Acad^mique  Indo-Chinoise 
de  France. 

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in  this  History  of  Burma.” — Saturday  Revitic. 

“A  laborious  work,  carefully  pei formed,  which  supplies  a blank  in  the  long  list  of 
histories  of  countries,  and  record.s  the  annals,  unknown  to  literature,  of  a nation 
which  is  likely  to  be  more  prominent  in  the  commerce  of  the  future." — Scotnnan. 


In  Two  Volumes,  post  8vo,  pp.  .xxiv. — 566,  cloth,  accompanied  by  a 
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A SKETCH  OF  THE  MODERN  LANGUAGES  OF  AFRICA. 

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Post  8 VO,  pp.  276,  cloth,  price  7s.  6d. 

RELIGION  IN  CHINA. 

By  JOSEPH  EDKINS,  D.D.,  Peking. 

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Observations  on  the  Prospects  of  Christian  Conversion  amongst  that 
People. 

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" As  a missionary,  it  has  been  part  of  Dr.  Edkins'  duty  to  study  the  existing 
religions  in  China,  and  his  long  residence  in  the  country  h:is  enabled  him  to  acquire 
an  intimate  knowledge  of  them  as  they  at  present  exist.” — Saturday  Review. 

“ Dr.  Edkins’  valuable  work,  of  which  this  is  a second  and  revised  edition,  has. 
from  the  time  that  it  was  published,  been  the  standird  authority  upon  the  subject 
of  which  it  treats." — Noncon/ormist. 

“ Dr.  Edkins  . . . may  now  be  fairly  regarded  as  among  the  first  authorities  on 
Chinese  religion  and  language.” — British  Quarterly  Review. 


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Doctor  of  Theology,  Professor  of  the  History  of  Religions  in  the 
University  of  Leyden. 

Translated  from  the  Dutch  by  J.  Estlin  Carpenter,  M.A. 

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A Jain  Story  Book. 

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BUDDHIST  RECORDS  OF  THE  WESTERN  WORLD, 

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&01Nj}UKGH  AN1>  LONDON 


INDIAN  POETRY. 


CONTAINING 


"THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS,"  FROM  THE  SANSKRIT 
OF  THE  GITA  GOVINDA  OF  JAYADEVA  ; 

TWO  BOOKS  FROM  "THE  ILIAD  OF  INDIA  " (MAHABHARATA); 
"PROVERBIAL  WISDOM"  FROM  THE  SHLOKAS  OF  THE 
HITOPADESA,  AND  OTHER  ORIENTAL  POEMS. 


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CONTENTS 


FACE 

Thk  Indian  Song  of  Songs — 

Introduction > 

Hymn  to  Vishnu 3 

Sarga  the  First — The  Sports  of  Krislina  ....  9 

Sarga  the  Second — The  Penitence  of  Krishna  ...  22 

Sarga  the  Third — Krishna  troubled 31 

Sarga  the  Fourth — Krishna  cheered 37 

Sarga  the  Fifth — The  Longings  of  Krishna  ....  44 

Sarga  the  Sixth — Krishna  made  bolder  ....  54 

Sarga  the  Seventh — Krishna  supposed  false  ....  59 

Sarga  the  Eighth — The  Rebuking  of  Krishna  ...  75 

Sarga  the  Ninth — The  End  of  Krishna’s  Trial  ...  79 

Sarga  the  Tenth — ^Krishna  in  Paradise  . ...  83 

Sarga  the  Eleventh — The  Union  of  Radha  and  Krishna  . 88 

Miscellaneous  Oriental  Poems — 

The  Rajpoot  Wife loi 

King  Saladin 113 

The  Caliph’s  Draught 132 

Hindoo  Funeral  Song 137 

Song  of  the  Serpent  Charmers 138 

Song  of  the  Flour- MUl 140 

Taza  ba  Taza 142 


viii  CONTENTS. 

PAOE 

The  Mussulman  Paradise 146 

Dedication  of  a Poem  from  the  Sanskrit  . . , .150 

The  Rajah’s  Ride 15 1 

Two  Books  FROM  THE  “ Iliad  01!  India” — ....  159 

The  Great  Journey 172 

The  Entry  into  Heaven 192 

The  Night  OP  Slaughter 210 

The  Morning  Prayer 216 

Proverihal  Wisdom  FROM  THE  Shlokas  OF  THE  HitopadI'iSa  . 221 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


INTRODUCTION. 

OM! 

REVERENCE  TO  GAXESIIA  ! 

“ The  sky  is  clouded ; and  the  wood  resembles 

V 

The  sky,  thick-arched  with  black  Tamala  boughs  \ 
0 Eadha,  Eadha  ! take  this  Soul,  that  trembles 
In  life’s  deep  midnight,  to  Thy  golden  house.” 

So  Nanda  spoke, — and,  led  by  Eadha’s  spirit, 

The  feet  of  Krishna  found  the  road  aright ; 
AVherefore,  in  bliss  which  all  high  hearts  inherit, 
Together  taste  they  Love’s  divine  delight. 

He  who  wrote  these  things  for  thee, 

Of  the  Son  of  Wassoodee, 

k 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


Was  the  poet  Jayadeva  ; 

Sim  Saraswati  gam  ever 
Fancies  fair  his  mind  to  throng. 
Like  pictures  palace-walls  along  ; 
Ever  to  his  notes  of  love 
Zakshmi’s  mystic  dancers  move. 

If  thy  spirit  seeks  to  brood 
On  Sari  glorious,  Sari  good  ; 

If  it  feeds  on  solemn  numbers, 

Dim  as  dreams  and  soft  as  slumbers, 
Lend  thine  ear  to  Jayadev, 

Lord  of  all  the  spells  that  save. 
Smapatidhara' s strain 
Glows  like  roses  after  rain ; 

Sharan’s  stream-like  song  is  grand. 
If  its  tide  ye  understand  ; 

Bard  more  wise  beneath  the  sun 
Is  not  found  than  Govardhun  ; 
Dhoyi  holds  the  listener  still 
With  his  shlokes  of  subtle  skill ; 

But  foi'  sweet  ivords  suited  well 
Jayeulcva  doth  excel. 


I 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


3 


{llluit  follows  is  to  tlic  Music  Malava  and  the  Mode 
Kupaka.) 

HYMN  TO  VISHNU. 

0 thou  that  held’st  the  blessed  Veda  dry 

When  all  things  else  beneath  the  floods  were  hurled ; 
Strong  Fish-God  ! Ark  of  Men  ! Jai  ! Ilari,  jai  ! 

Hail,  Keshav,  hail ! thou  Master  of  the  world  ! 

The  round  world  rested  on  thy  spacious  nape ; 

Upon  thy  neck,  like  a mere  mole,  it  stood : 

O thou  that  took’st  for  us  the  Tortoise-shape, 

Hail,  Keshav,  hail ! Euler  of  wave  and  wood ! 

The  world  upon  thy  curving  tusk  sate  sure, 

Like  the  Moon’s  dark  disc  in  her  crescent  pale ; 

0 thou  who  didst  for  us  assume  the  Boar, 

Immortal  Conqueror ! hail,  Keshav,  hail ! 

When  thou  thy  Giant-Foe  didst  seize  and  rend, 

Fierce,  fearful,  long,  and  sharp  were  fang  and  nail ; 
Thou  who  the  Lion  and  the  l\Ian  didst  blend. 

Lord  of  the  Universe  ! hail,  Narsingh,  had  ! 


4 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


Wonderful  Dwarf  ! — who  with  a threefold  stride 
Cheated  King  Bali — where  thy  footsteps  fall 

Lien’s  sins,  0 Wamuna ! are  set  aside : 

0 Keshav,  hail ! thou  Help  and  Hope  of  all ! 

The  sins  of  this  sad  earth  thou  didst  assoil, 

The  anguish  of  its  creatures  thou  didst  heal ; 

Freed  are  we  from  all  terrors  by  thy  toil : 

Hail,  Purshuram,  hail ! Lord  of  the  biting  steel ! 

To  thee  the  fell  Ten-Headed  yielded  life. 

Thou  in  dread  battle  laid’st  the  monster  low ! 

Ah,  Kama ! dear  to  Gods  and  men  that  strife ; 

We  praise  thee.  Master  of  the  matchless  bow ! 

With  clouds  for  garments  glorious  thou  dost  fare. 
Veiling  thy  dazzling  majesty  and  might. 

As  when  Yamuna  saw  thee  with  the  share, 

A peasant — ^}’et  the  King  of  Day  and  Kight. 

Llerciful-hearted  ! when  thou  earnest  as  Boodb — 
Albeit  ’twas  written  in  the  Scriptures  so — 

Thou  bad’st  onr  altars  be  no  more  imbrued 

With  blood  of  victims : Keshav ! bending  low — 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


5 


We  praise  thee,  Wielder  of  the  sweeping  sword, 
Brilliant  as  curving  comets  in  the  gloom. 

Whose  edge  shall  smite  the  fierce  barbarian  horde ; 
Hail  to  thee,  Keshav  1 hail,  and  hear,  and  come. 


And  fill  this  song  of  Jayadev  with  thee. 

And  make  it  wise  to  teach,  strong  to  redeem. 

And  sweet  to  living  souls.  Thou  Mystery ! 

Thou  Light  of  Life ! Thou  Dawn  beyond  the  dream  ! 


Fish ! that  didst  outswim  the  flood ; 
Tortoise ! whereon  earth  hath  stood ; 
Boar ! who  with  thy  tush  held’st  high 
The  world,  that  mortals  might  not  die ; 
Lion  ! who  hast  giants  torn ; 

Dwarf ! who  laugh’dst  a king  to  scorn  ; 
Sole  Subduer  of  the  Dreaded ! 

Slayer  of  the  many -headed  ! 

Mighty  Ploughman ! Teacher  tender  ! 
Of  thine  own  the  sure  Defender ! 
Lnder  all  thy  ten  disguises 
Endless  praise  to  thee  arises. 


6 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


( }Vhat  follovjs  is  to  the  Music  GuEJJARi  and  the  Mode 
Nihsara.) 

Endless  praise  arises, 

0 thou  God  that  liest 
Rapt,  on  Kumla’s  breast. 

Happiest,  holiest,  highest ! 

Planets  are  thy  jewels. 

Stars  thy  forehead-gems. 

Set  like  sapphires  gleaming 
In  kingliest  anadems ; 

Even  the  great  gold  Sun-God, 

Blazing  through  the  sky. 

Serves  thee  but  for  crest-stone, 

Jai,  jai  ! Hari,  jai  ! 

As  that  Lord  of  day 
After  night  brings  morrow. 

Thou  dost  charm  away 
Life’s  long  dream  of  sorrow. 

As  on  Mansa’s  water 
P.rood  the  swans  at  rest. 

So  thy  laws  sit  stately 
On  a holy  breast. 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


7 


O,  Drinker  of  the  poison ! 

Ah,  hi"h  Delicrht  of  earth ! 

"What  light  is  to  the  lotus-buds, 

"Wliat  singing  is  to  mirth, 

Art  tliou — art  thou  that  slayedst 
Madhou  and  Narak  grim ; . 

That  ridest  on  the  King  of  Birds, 
]\Iaking  all  glories  dim. 

"With  eyes  like  open  lotus-flowers, 
Bright  in  the  morning  rain. 

Freeing  by  one  swift  piteous  glance 
The  spirit  from  Life’s  pain : 

Of  aU  the  three  Worlds  Treasure ! 

Of  sin  the  Putter-by ! 

O’er  the  Ten-Headed  Victor ! 

Jai  Hari ! Hari ! jai  ! 

Thou  Shaker  of  the  Mountain ! 

Thou  Shadow  of  the  Storm  ! 

Thou  Cloud  that  unto  Lakshmi’s  face 
Comes  welcome,  white,  and  warm ! 

O thou, — who  to  great  Lakshmi 
Art  like  the  silvery  beam 
Which  moon-sick  chakors  feed  upon 


s 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


By  Jumna’s  silent  stream, — 

To  thee  this  hymn  ascendeth, 

That  Jayadev  doth  sing, 

Of  worship,  love,  and  mystery ; 

High  Lord  and  heavenly  King ! 

And  unto  whoso  hears  it 
Do  thou  a blessing  bring — 

Whose  neck  is  gilt  with  yellow  dust 
From  lilies  that  did  cling 
Beneath  the  breasts  of  Lakshmi, 

A girdle  soft  and  sweet. 

When  in  divine  embracing 
The  lips  of  Gods  did  meet ; 

And  the  beating  heart  above 
Of  thee — Dread  Lord  of  Heaven  ! — 
She  left  that  stamp  of  love — 

By  such  deep  sign  be  given 
Brays  Jayadev,  the  glory 
And  the  secret  and  the  spells 
Which  close-hid  in  this  story 
Unto  wise  ears  he  tells. 


END  OF  INTRODUCTION. 


( 9 ) 


SARGA  THE  FIRST 

S A ]\I  0 D A D A M 0 D A R O. 

THE  SPORTS  OF  KRISHNA. 

Heautiful  Eadha,  jasmine-bosomed  Eadha, 

All  in  the  Spring-time  waited  by  the  wood 
For  Krishna  fair,  Krishna  the  all-forgetful, — 
Krishna  with  earthly  love’s  false  fire  consuming — 
And  some  one  of  her  maidens  sang  this  song : — 

o o 


( What  follows  is  to  the  M^lsic  Vasanta  and  the  Mode 
Yati.) 

I know  wEere  Krishna  tarries  in  these  early  days  of 
Spring, 

When  every  wind  from  warm  Malay  brings  fragrance 
on  its  wing ; 


lO 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


Brings  fragrance  stolen  far  away  from  thickets  of  the 
clove, 

In  jungles  where  the  bees  hum  and  the  Koil  flutes  her 
love; 

He  dances  with  the  dancers,  of  a merry  morrice  one, 

All  in  the  budding  Spring-time,  for  ’tis  sad  to  be  alone. 

I know  how  Krishna  passes  these  hours  of  blue  and  gold. 

When  parted  lovers  sigh  to  meet  and  greet  and  closely 
hold 

Hand  fast  in  hand ; and  every  branch  upon  the  V akul- 
tree 

Droops  downward  with  a hundred  blooms,  in  every 
bloom  a bee ; 

He  is  dancing  with  the  dancers  to  a laughter-moving 
tone. 

In  the  soft  awakening  Spring-time,  when  ’tis  hard  to 
live  alone. 

Where  Kroona-flowers,  that  open  at  a lover’s  lightest 
tread. 

Break,  and,  for  shame  at  what  they  hear,  from  white 
blush  modest  red ; 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS.  ir 

And  all  the  spears  on  all  the  boughs  of  all  the  Ketuk- 
glades 

Seem  ready  darts  to  pierce  the  hearts  of  wandering 
youths  and  maids ; 

’Tis  there  thy  Krishna  dances  till  the  merry  drum  is 
done, 

All  in  the  sunny  Spring-time,  when  who  can  live  alone  ? 

Where  the  breaking  forth  of  blossom  on  the  yellow 
Keshra-sprays 

Dazzles  like  Kama’s  sceptre,  whom  all  the  world  obeys; 

And  Patal-buds  fill  drowsy  bees  from  pink  delicious 
bowls. 

As  Kama’s  nectared  goblet  steeps  in  languor  human 
souls ; 

There  he  dances  with  the  dancers,  and  of  Eadha  thinketh 
none. 

All  in  the  warm  new  Spring-tide,  when  none  will  live 
alone. 

Where  the  breath  of  waving  Madhvi  pours  incense 
through  the  grove. 

And  silken  Mogras  lull  the  sense  with  essences  of 

O 

love, — 


12 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


The  silken-soft  pale  Mogra,  whose  perfume  fine  and  faint 

Can  melt  the  coldness  of  a maid,  the  sternness  of  a 
saint — 

There  dances  with  those  dancers  thine  other  self,  thine 
Own, 

All  in  the  languorous  Spring-time,  when  none  will  Live 
alone. 

Where — as  if  warm  lips  touched  sealed  eyes  and  waked 
them — all  the  bloom 

Opens  upon  the  mangoes  to  feel  the  sunshine  come ; 

And  Atimuktas  wind  their  arms  of  softest  green  about, 

Clasping  the  stems,  while  calm  and  clear  great  Jumna 
spreadeth  out ; 

Tliere  dances  and  there  laughs  thy  Love,  with  damsels 
many  an  one. 

In  the  rosy  days  of  Spring-time,  for  he  will  not  live 
alone. 

Mark  this  song  of  Jayadcv  ! 

Deep  as  pearl  in  ocean-wave 
Lurhetli  in  its  lines  a wonder 
IVhich  the  wise  alone  will  ponder  : 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


13 


Though  it  seemeth  of  the  earth. 
Heavenly  is  the  music's  birth  ; 
Telling  darkly  of  delights 
In  the  wood,  of  wasted  nights, 

Of  u'itless  days,  and  fruitless  love. 
And  false  plccLsures  of  the  grove. 
And  rash  passions  of  the  prime. 

And  those  dances  of  Spring-time  ; 
Time,  which  seems  so  sultle-siveet. 
Time,  which  pipes  to  dancing-fect. 
Ah  f so  softly — ah  ! so  sweetly — 
That  among  those  wood  .-maids  featly 
Krishna  cannot  chocjse  hut  dance. 
Letting  pass  life’s  greater  chance. 

Yet  the  winds  that  sigh  so 
As  they  stir  the  rose. 

Wake  a sigh  from  Krishna 
Wistfuller  than  those; 

All  their  faint  breaths  swinging 
The  creepers  to  and  fro 
Pass  like  rustling  arrows 

O 


Shot  from  Kama’s  how : 


14 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


Thus  among  the  dancers 
What  those  zephyrs  bring 
Strikes  to  Krishna’s  spirit 
Like  a darted  sting. 

And  all  as  if — far  wandered — 

The  traveller  should  hear 
The  bird  of  home,  the  Koil, 

With  nest-notes  rich  and  clear ; 

And  there  should  come  one  moment 
A blessed  fleeting  dream 
Of  the  bees  among  the  mangoes 
Beside  his  native  stream ; 

So  flash  those  sudden  yearnings, 

That  sense  of  a dearer  thing. 

The  love  and  lack  of  Eadha 
Upon  his  soul  in  Spring. 

Then  she,  the  maid  of  Eadha,  spake  again ; 

And  pointing  far  away  between  the  leaves 
Guided  her  lovely  Mistress  where  to  look. 

And  note  how  Krishna  wantoned  in  the  wood 
Now  with  this  one,  now  that ; his  heart,  her  prize, 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


15 


Pautiug  with  foolish  passions,  and  his  eyes 
Beaming  with  too  much  love  for  those  fair  girls — 
Fair,  but  not  so  as  Radha ; and  she  sang : 

( IVTiat  follows  is  to  the  Music  RamagirI  aiul  the  Mode 
Yati.) 

See,  Lady ! how  thy  Krishna  passes  these  idle  hours 

Decked  forth  in  fold  of  woven  gold,  and  crowned  with 
forest-flowers ; 

And  scented  with  the  sandal,  and  gay  with  gems  of 
price — 

Rubies  to  mate  his  laughing  lips,  and  diamonds  like  his 
eyes 

In  the  company  of  damsels,*  who  dance  and  sing  and 
play. 

Lies  Krishna,  laughing,  toying,  dreaming  his  Spring  away. 

One,  with  star-blossomed  champak  wreathed,  wooes 
him  to  rest  his  head 

On  the  dark  pillow  of  her  breast  so  tenderly  outspread ; 


• It  wiU  be  observed  that  the  “Gopis”  here  personify  the  five 
senses.  Lassen  says,  “ Manifestum  est  pudlis  istis  nil  aliud  significari 
quam  res  scnsiles.” 


t6 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


And  o’er  his  brow  with  roses  blown  she  fans  a fragrance 
rare, 

That  falls  on  the  enchanted  sense  like  rain  in  thirsty  air, 

"WTiile  the  company  of  damsels  wave  many  an  odorous 
spray, 

And  Krishna,  laughing,  toying,  sighs  the  soft  Spring 
away. 

Another,  gazing  in  his  face,  sits  wistfully  apart. 

Searching  it  with  those  looks  of  love  that  leap  from 
heart  to  heart ; 

Her  eyes — afire  with  shy  desire,  veiled  by  their  lashes 
black — 

Speak  so  that  Krishna  cannot  choose  but  send  the 
message  back. 

In  the  company  of  damsels  whose  bright  eyes  in  a ring 

Shine  round  him  with  soft  meanings  in  the  merry  light 
of  Spring. 

The  third  one  of  that  dazzling  band  of  dwellers  in  the 
wood — 

Body  and  bosom  panting  with  the  pulse  of  youthful 


blood — 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


17 


Leans  over  him,  as  in  his  ear  a lightsome  thing  to 
speak, 

And  then  with  leaf-soft  lip  imprints  a kiss  below  his 
cheek ; 

A kiss  that  thrills,  and  Krishna  turns  at  the  silken  touch 

To  give  it  back — ah,  Radha ! forgetting  thee  too  much. 

And  one  with  arch  smile  becokns  him  away  from 
Jumna’s  banks. 

Where  the  tall  bamboos  bristle  like  spears  in  battle- 
ranks. 

And  plucks  his  cloth  to  make  him  come  into  the  mango- 
shade. 

Where  the  fruit  is  ripe  and  golden,  and  the  milk  and 
cakes  are  laid ; 

Oh ! golden-red  the  mangoes,  and  glad  the  feasts  of 
Spring, 

And  fair  the  flowers  to  lie  upon,  and  sweet  the  dancers 
sing. 


Sweetest  of  all  that  Temptress  who  dances  for  him  now 
With  subtle  feet  which  part  and  meet  in  the  Eas- 
measure  slow, 

B 


i8  THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 

To  the  chime  of  silver  bangles  and  the  beat  of  rose-leaf 
hands, 

And  pipe  and  lute  and  cymbal  played  by  the  woodland 
bands ; 

So  that  wholly  passion-laden — eye,  ear,  sense,  soul  o’er- 
come — 

Krishna  is  theirs  in  the  forest;  his  heart  forgets  its  home. 

Krishna,  made  for  heavenly  things, 

’Mid  those  woodland  singers  sings; 

With  those  dancers  dances  featly. 

Gives  lack  soft  embraces  sweetly; 

Smiles  on  that  one,  toys  with  this. 

Glance  for  glance  and  kiss  for  kiss; 

Meets  the  merry  damsels  fairly. 

Plays  the  round  of  folly  rarely. 

Lapped  in  milk-warm  ^ring-time  weather. 

He  and  those  brown  girls  together. 

And  this  shadowed  eaiihly  love 
In  the  twilight  of  the  grove. 

Dance  and  song  and  soft  caresses, 

Meeting  looks  and  tangled  tresses. 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


19 


Jayadev  the  same  hath  writ, 

That  ye  might  have  gain  of  it. 

Sagely  its  deep  sense  conceiving 
And  its  inner  light  believing  ; 

How  that  Love — the  mighty  Master, 

Lord  of  all  the  stars  that  cluster 
In  the  sky,  swiftest  and  slowest. 

Lord  of  highest.  Lord  of  lowest — 
Manifests  himself  to  mortals. 

Winning  them  towards  the  portals 
Of  his  secret  House,  the  gates 
Of  that  bright  Paradise  which  waits 
The  ivise  in  love.  Ah,  human  creatures  ! 
Even  your  phantasies  are  teachers. 

Mighty  Love  makes  sweet  in  seeming 
Even  Krishna’s  woodland  dreaming  ; 
Mighty  Love  sways  all  alike 
From  self  to  selflessness.  Oh  ! strike 
From  your  eyes  the  veil,  and  see 
What  Love  willeth  Him  to  be 
Who  in  error,  but  in  grace, 

Sitteth  with  that  lotus-face. 

And  those  eyes  whose  rays  of  heaven 
Unto  phantom-eyes  are  given; 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


Holding  feasts  of  foolish  mirth 
With  these  Visions  of  the  earth  ; 
Learning  love,  and  love  imparting  ; 

Yet  with  sense  of  loss  upstarting : — 

For  the  cloud  that  veils  the  fountains 
Underneath  the  Sandal  mountains, 

How — as  if  the  sunshine  drew 
All  its  being  to  the  blue — 

It  takes  flight,  and  seeks  to  rise 
High  into  the  purer  skies. 

High  into  the  snow  and  frost, 

On  the  shining  summits  lost ! 

Ah  ! and  how  the  Foil’s  strain 
Smites  the  traveller  with  pain, — 

When  the  mango  blooms  in  spring. 

And  Koohoof  “ Koohoof  they  sing — 
Fain  of  pleasures  not  yet  won. 

Fain  of  journeys  not  yet  done. 

Fain  of  toiling  without  gaining. 

Fain,  ’mid  gladness,  of  still  paining. 

15iit  may  He  guide  us  all  to  glory  high 

"Who  laughed  wheu  Eadha  glided,  hidden,  by, 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


21 


And  all  among  those  damsels  free  and  bold 
Touched  Krishna  with  a soft  mouth,  kind  and  cold  ; 
And  like  the  others,  leaning  on  his  breast, 

Unlike  the  others,  left  there  Love’s  unrest; 

And  like  the  others,  joining  in  his  song, 

Unlike  the  others,  made  him  silent  long. 


(Here  ends  that  Sarga  of  the  Gita  Govinda  entitled 
Samodadamodaro.! 


( 22  ) 


SARGA  THE  SECOND. 

KLESHAKESHAVO. 

THE  PENITENCE  OF  KRISHNA. 

Thus  lingered  Krishna  in  the  deep,  green  wood, 
And  gave  himself,  too  prodigal,  to  those ; 

But  Eadha,  heart-sick  at  his  falling-off. 

Seeing  her  heavenly  beauty  slighted  so, 

Withdrew ; and,  in  a bower  of  Paradise — 

Where  nectarous  blossoms  wove  a shrine  of  shade. 
Haunted  by  birds  and  bees  of  unknown  skies — 

She  sate  deep-sorrowful,  and  sang  this  strain  : 

{What  follows  is  to  the  Mv^ic  GuiujakI  and  the  Mode 
Yati.) 

Ah,  my  Beloved  ! taken  with  those  glances. 

Ah,  my  Beloved ! dancing  those  rash  dances. 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


23 


Ah,  Minstrel ! playing  wongful  strains  so  well ; 

Ah,  Krishna ! Krishna,  with  the  honeyed  lip ! 

Ah,  Wanderer  into  foolish  fellowship  ! 

My  Dancer,  my  Delight ! — I love  thee  still 

0 Dancer ! strip  thy  peacock-crown  away, 

Eise ! thou  whose  forehead  is  the  star  of  day, 

With  beauty  for  its  silver  halo  set; 

Come ! thou  whose  greatness  gleams  beneath  its  shroud 
Like  Indra’s  rainbow  shining  through  the  cloud — 
Come,  for  I love  thee,  my  Beloved ! yet 

Must  love  thee — cannot  choose  but  love  thee  ever. 

My  best  Beloved  ! — set  on  this  endeavour. 

To  win  thy  tender  heart  and  earnest  eye 
From  lips  but  sadly  sweet,  from  restless  bosoms. 

To  mine,  0 Krishna  with  the  mouth  of  blossoms  I 
To  mine,  thou  soul  of  Krishna ! yet  I sigh 

Half  hopeless,  thinking  of  myself  forsaken. 

And  thee,  dear  Loiterer,  in  the  wood  o’ertaken 
With  passion  for  those  bold  and  wanton  ones, 


24 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


Who  knit  thine  arms  as  poison-plants  gripe  trees 
With  twining  cords — their  flowers  the  braveries 
That  flash  in  the  green  gloom,  sparkling  stars  and 
stones. 


My  Prince  ! my  Lotus-faced ! my  woe ! my  love ! 
Whose  broad  brow,  with  the  tilka-spot  above, 

Shames  the  bright  moon  at  full  with  fleck  of  cloud  ; 
Thou  to  mistake  so  little  for  so  much ! 

Thou,  Krishna,  to  be  palm  to  palm  with  such  ! 

0 Soul  made  for  my  joys,  pure,  perfect,  proud ! 

Ah,  my  Beloved  ! in  thy  darkness  dear ; 

Ah,  Dancer ! with  the  jewels  in  thine  ear. 

Swinging  to  music  of  a loveless  love ; 

0 my  Beloved  ! in  thy  fall  so  high 
That  angels,  sages,  spirits  of  the  sky 

Linger  about  thee,  watching  in  the  grove. 


I will  be  patient  still,  and  draw  thee  ever, 

My  one  Beloved,  sitting  by  the  river 

Under  the  thick  kadambas  with  that  throng : 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


25 


■\Vill  there  not  come  an  end  to  earthly  madness  ? 
Shall  I not,  past  the  sorrow,  have  the  gladness  ? 
Must  not  the  love-light  shine  for  him  ere  long  ? 

Shine,  thou  Light  hy  Eadha  given. 
Shine,  thou  splendid  star  of  heaven  ! 

Be  a lamp  to  Krishna’s  feet. 

Show  to  all  hearts  secrets  sweet. 

Of  the  wonder  and  the  love 
Jayadev  hath  ''.vrit  above. 

Be  the  quick  Interpreter 

Unto  wisest  ears  of  her 

Who  ahvays  sings  to  all,  “ I wait. 

He  loveth  still  who  loveth  late.” 

For  (sang  on  that  high  Lady  in  the  shade) 

My  soul  for  tenderness,  not  blame,  was  made ; 

Mine  eyes  look  through  his  evil  to  his  good ; 

My  heart  coins  pleas  for  him ; my  fervent  thought 
Prevents  what  he  will  say  when  these  are  naught. 
And  that  which  I am  shall  be  understood. 

Then  spake  she  to  her  maiden  wistfully — 


26 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


(TVhat  follows  is  to  the  Music  Malavagauda  and  the 
Mode  EKATALt.) 

Go  to  him, — win  him  liither, — whisper  low 
How  he  may  find  me  if  he  searches  well ; 

Say,  if  he  will — ^joys  past  his  hope  to  know 
Await  him  here ; go  now  to  him,  and  tell 
Where  Eadha  is,  and  that  henceforth  she  charms 
His  spirit  to  her  arms. 

Yes,  go ! say,  if  he  will,  that  he  may  come — 

!May  come,  my  love,  my  longing,  my  desire ; 

May  come  forgiven,  shriven,  to  me  his  home. 

And  make  his  happy  peace ; nay,  and  aspire 
To  uplift  Eadha’s  veil,  and  learn  at  length 

What  love  is  in  its  strength. 

Lead  him ; say  softly  I shall  chide  his  blindness, 
And  vex  him  with  my  angers ; yet  add  this, 

He  shall  not  vainly  sue  for  loving-kindness. 

Nor  miss  to  see  me  close,  nor  lose  the  bliss 
That  lives  upon  my  lip,  nor  be  denied 

The  rose-throne  at  my  side. 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


27 


Say  that  I — Eadha — in  my  bower  languish 
All  widowed,  till  he  find  the  way  to  me ; 

Say  that  mine  eyes  are  dim,  my  breast  all  anguish, 
Until  with  gentle  murmured  shame  I see 
His  steps  come  near,  his  anxious  pleading  face 
Bend  for  my  pardoning  grace. 

While  I — what,  did  he  deem  light  loves  so  tender. 
To  tarry  for  them  when  the  vow  was  made 
To  yield  him  up  my  bosom’s  maiden  splendour. 
And  fold  him  in  my  fragrance,  and  unbraid 
My  shining  hair  for  him,  aud  clasp  him  close 

To  the  gold  heart  of  his  Eose  ? 


And  sing  him  strains  which  only  spirits  know. 

And  make  him  captive  with  the  silk- soft  chain 
Of  twinned-udngs  brooding  round  him,  and  bestow 
Kisses  of  Paradise,  as  pure  as  rain ; 

My  gems,  my  moonlight-pearls,  my  girdle-gold, 
Cymbaling  music  bold  ? 

While  gained  for  ever,  I shaE  dare  to  grow 
Life  to  life  with  him,  in  the  realms  divine ; 


28 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


And — Love’s  large  cup  at  happy  overflow, 

Yet  ever  to  be  filled — his  eyes  and  mine 
Will  meet  in  that  glad  look,  when  Time’s  great  gate 

O 7 o o 

Closes  and  shuts  out  Fate. 


Listen  to  the  unsaid  things 
Of  the  song  that  Badha  sings, 

For  the  soul  draws  near  to  bliss, 

As  it  comprehendeth  this. 

I am  JayaAev,  who  write 

All  this  subtle-rich  delight 

For  your  teaching.  Ponder,  then, 

What  it  tells  to  Gods  and  men. 

Err  not,  watching  Krishna  gay. 

With  those  brown  girls  all  at  play ; 
Understand  how  Badha  charms 
Her  wandering  lover  to  her  arms. 

Waiting  with  divinest  love 
I'ill  his  dream  ends  in  the  grove. 

For  even  now  (she  sang)  I see  liim  pause, 

Heart-stricken  with  the  waste  of  heart  lie  makes 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


29 


Amid  tliem ; — all  the  bows  of  their  bent  brows 
Wound  him  no  more : no  more  for  all  their  sakes 
l*lays  he  one  note  upon  his  amorous  lute, 

But  lets  the  strings  lie  mute. 

I’ensive,  as  if  his  parted  lips  should  say — 

“ My  feet  with  the  dances  are  weary. 

The  music  has  dropped  from  the  song, 

There  is  no  more  delight  in  the  lute-strings. 

Sweet  Shadows ! what  thing  has  gone  wrong  ? 
The  wings  of  the  wind  have  left  fanning 
The  palms  of  the  glade  ; 

They  are  dead,  and  the  blossoms  seem  dying 
In  the  place  where  we  played. 

“ We  will  play  no  more,  beautiful  Shadows ! 

A fancy  came  solemn  and  sad. 

More  sweet,  with  unspeakable  longings. 

Than  the  best  of  the  pleasures  we  had : 

I am  not  now  the  Krishna  who  kissed  you ; 

That  exquisite  dream, — 

The  Vision  I saw  in  my  dancing — 

Has  spoiled  w'hat  you  seem. 


3° 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


“ Ah  ! delicate  phantoms  that  cheated 
With  eyes  that  looked  lasting  and  true, 

I awake, — I have  seen  her, — my  angel — 
Farewell  to  the  wood  and  to  you  ! 

Oh,  whisper  of  wonderful  pity ! 

Oh,  fair  face  that  shone ! 

Though  thou  be  a vision,  Divinest ! 

This  vision  is  done.” 

{Here  ends  that  Sarga  of  the  Gita  Govinda  entitled 
Kleshakeshavo.) 


( 31  ) 


SARGA  THE  THIRD. 


MUGDHAMADHUSUDANO. 

KKISHXA  TROUBLED. 

Thereat, — as  one  who  welcomes  to  her  throne 
A new-made  Queen,  and  brings  before  it  bound 
Her  enemies, — so  Krishna  in  his  heart 
Throned  Eadha ; and — all  treasonous  follies  chained- 
He  played  no  more  with  those  first  play-fellows : 
But,  searching  through  the  shadows  of  the  grove 
For  loveliest  Eadha, — when  he  found  her  not, 

Faint  with  the  quest,  despairing,  lonely,  lorn. 

And  pierced  with  shame  for  wasted  love  and  days. 
He  sate  by  Jumna,  where  the  canes  are  thick, 

And  sang  to  the  wood-echoes  words  like  these : 


32 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


( What  follows  is  to  the  Music  GuRJJARi  and  to  the  Mode 
Yati.) 

Kadha,  Enchantress ! Eadha,  queen  of  all ! 

Gone — lost,  because  she  found  me  sinning  here; 

And  I so  stricken  with  my  foolish  fall, 

I could  not  stay  her  out  of  shame  and  fear ; 

She  will  not  hear ; 

In  her  disdain  and  grief  vainly  I call 

And  if  she  heard,  what  would  she  do  ? what  say  ? 

How  could  I make  it  good  that  I forgot  ? 

What  profit  was  it  to  me,  night  and  day, 

To  live,  love,  dance,  and  dream,  having  her  not  ? 

Soul  without  spot ! 

I wronged  thy  patience,  till  it  sighed  away. 

Sadly  1 know  the  truth.  Ah ! even  now 
Eemembering  that  one  look  beside  the  river, 

Softer  the  vexed  eyes  seem,  and  the  proud  brow 

Tlian  lotus-leaves  when  the  bees  make  them  quiver. 

^ly  love  for  ever ! . 

Too  late  is  Krishna  wise — too  far  art  thou  ! 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


33 


Yet  all  day  long  in  my  deep  heart  I woo  thee, 

And  all  night  long  with  thee  my  dreams  are  sweet ; 
"Wliy,  then,  so  vainly  must  my  steps  pursue  thee  ? 
Why  can  I never  reach  thee,  to  entreat. 

Low  at  thy  feet. 

Dear  vanished  Splendour ! till  my  tears  subdue  thee  ? 

Surpassing  One ! I knew  thou  didst  not  brook 
Half-hearted  worship,  and  a love  that  wavers ; 

Haho ! there  is  the  wisdom  I mistook. 

Therefore  I seek  with  desperate  endeavours ; 

That  fault  dissevers 

Me  from  my  heaven,  astray — condemned — forsook  ! 

And  yet  I seem  to  feel,  to  know,  thee  near  me ; 

Thy  steps  make  music,  measured  music,  near; 

Radha ! my  Eadha  ! will  not  sorrow  clear  me  ? 

Shine  once ! speak  one  word  pitiful  and  dear ! 

Wilt  thou  not  hear  ? 

Canst  thou — because  I did  forget — forsake  me  ? 

Forgive ! the  sin  is  sinned,  is  past,  is  over; 

No  thought  I think  shall  do  thee  wrong  again ; 

c 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


Turn  thy  dark  eyes  again  upon  thy  lover 
Bright  Spirit ! or  I perish  of  this  pain. 

Loving  again ! 

O O 

In  dread  of  doom  to  love,  but  not  recover. 


So  did  Krishna  sing  and  sigh 
By  the  river-hank  ; and  I, 

Jayadev  of  Kinduvilva, 

Resting — as  the  moon  of  silver 
Sits  upon  the  solemn  ocean — 

On  full  faith,  in  deep  devotion  ; 

Tell  it  that  ye  may  perceive 
How  the  heart  must  fret  and  grieve ; 
How  the  soul  doth  tire  of  earth, 

Mhen  the  lore  from  Heav'n  hath  birth. 


Tor  (sang  he  on)  I am  no  foe  of  tliine, 

There  is  no  black  snake,  Kama ! in  my  hair ; 

Blue  lotus-bloom,  and  not  the  poisoned  brine, 

Shadows  my  neck ; what  stains  my  bosom  bare, 
Thou  God  unfair! 

Is  sandal-dust,  not  ashes;  nought  of  mine 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  Ut'  SUNGS. 


35 


Makes  me  like  Shiva  that  thou,  Lord  of  Love ! 
Shouldst  strain  thy  string  at  me  and  fit  thy  dart ; 

This  world  is  thine — let  be  one  breast  thereof 
Which  bleeds  already,  wounded  to  the  heart 
With  lasting  smart. 

Shot  from  those  brows  that  did  my  sin  reprove. 

Thou  gavest  her  those  black  brows  for  a bow 

Arched  like  thine  own,  whose  pointed  arrows  seem 

Her  glances,  and  the  underlids  that  go — 

So  firm  and  fine — its  string  ? Ah,  fleeting  gleam  ! 

Beautiful  dream  1 

Small  need  of  Kama’s  help  hast  thou,  I trow. 

To  smite  me  to  the  soul  with  love ; — but  set 
Those  arrows  to  their  silken  cord ! enchain 

IMy  thoughts  in  that  loose  hair  ! let  thy  lips,  wet 
With  dew  of  heaven  as  bimba-buds  with  rain. 
Bloom  precious  pain 

Of  longing  in  my  heart ; and,  keener  yet. 

The  heaving  of  thy  lovely,  angry  bosom, 

Pant  to  my  spirit  things  unseen,  unsaid ; 


36 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


But  if  thy  touch,  thy  tones,  if  the  dark  blossom 
Of  thy  dear  face,  thy  jasmine-odours  shed 
From  feet  to  head, 

If  these  be  all  with  me,  canst  thou  be  far — be  fled  ? 

So  sang  he,  and  I 'pray  that  whoso  hears 
The  music  of  his  imming  hopes  and  fears. 

That  whoso  sees  this  vision  hy  the  Biver 
Of  Krishna,  Hari,  {can  we  name  him  ever  ?) 

And  marlis  his  ear-ring  rubies  swinging  slow. 

As  he  sits  still,  unheedfvl,  bending  low 
To  play  this  tune  upon  his  lute,  while  all 
Listen  to  catch  the  sadness  musical ; 

And  Krishna  wotteth  nought,  but,  with  set  face 
Turned  full  toward  Badha’s,  sings  on  in  that  place  ; 
May  all  such  soids — prays  Jayadev — be  wise 
To  learn  the  wisdom  which  hereunder  lies. 


{Here  ends  that  Sarga  of  the  Gita  Govinda  entitled 
Mugdhamaduusudaxo.) 


( 37  ) 


SARGA  THE  FOURTH. 


SNIGDHAMADHUSUDANO. 

KRISHNA  CHEERED. 

Then  she  ■whom  Radha  sent  came  to  the  canes — 
The  canes  beside  the  river  where  he  lay 
With  listless  limbs  and  spirit  weak  from  love ; — 
And  she  sang  this  to  Krishna  wistfully ; 


( What  follows  is  to  the,  Music  Karxata  and  the  Mode 
EkatalI.) 

Alt  thou  sick  for  Radha  ? she  is  sad  in  turn, 

Heaven  foregoes  its  blessings,  if  it  holds  not  thee ; 
All  the  cooling  fragrance  of  sandal  she  doth  spurn. 
Moonlight  makes  her  mournful  with  radiance  silvery; 


38  THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 

Even  the  southern  breeze  blown  fresh  from  pearly  seas, 
Seems  to  her  but  tainted  by  a dolorous  brine ; 

And  for  thy  sake  discontented,  with  a great  love  over- 
laden, 

Her  soul  comes  here  beside  thee,  and  sitteth  down 
with  thine. 

Her  soul  comes  here  beside  thee,  and  tenderly  and  true 
It  weaves  a siibtle  mail  of  proof  to  ward  off  sin  and 
pain  ; 

A breastplate  soft  as  lotus-leaf,  with  holy  tears  for  dew, 
To  guard  thee  from  the  things  that  hurt ; and  then 
’tis  gone  again 

To  strew  a blissful  place  with  the  richest  buds  that  grace 
Kama’s  sweet  world,  a meeting-spot  with  rose  and 
jasmine  fair. 

For  the  hour  when,  well-contented,  with  a love  no 
longer  troubled. 

Thou  shalt  find  the  way  to  Radha,  and  finish  sorrows 
there. 

But  now  her  lovely  face  is  shadowed  by  her  fears ; 

Her  glorious  eyes  are  veiled  and  dim  like  moouUght 
in  eclipse 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


39 


By  breaking  rain-clouds,  Krishna ! yet  she  paints  you 
in  her  tears 

With  tender  thoughts — not  Krishna,  but  brow  and 
breast  and  lips 

And  form  and  mien  a King,  a great  and  god-like  thing ; 
And  then  with  bended  head  she  asks  grace  from  the 
Love  Divine, 

To  keep  thee  discontented  with  the  phantoms  thou  for- 
swearest. 

Till  she  may  win  her  glory,  and  thou  be  raised  to  thine. 

Softly  now  she  sayeth, 

“ Krishna,  Krishna,  come ! ” 

Lovingly  she  prayeth, 

“ Fair  moon,  light  him  home.” 

Yet  if  Hari  helps  not. 

Moonlight  cannot  aid ; 

Ah ! the  woeful  Eadha ! 

Ah ! the  forest  shade  ! 

Ah  ! if  Hari  guide  not. 

Moonlight  is  as  gloom ; 

Ah  ! if  moonlight  help  not. 

How  shall  Krishna  come  ? 


40 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


Sad  for  Krishna  grieving 
In  the  darkened  grove ; 

Sad  for  Eadha  weaving 
Dreams  of  fruitless  love ! 

Strike  soft  strings  to  this  soft  measure. 

If  thine  ear  would  catch  its  treasure  y 
Slowly  dance  to  this  deep  song, 

Let  its  meaning  float  along 
With  grave  paces,  since  it  tells 
Of  a love  that  sweetly  dwells 
In  a tender  distant  glory. 

Past  all  faults  of  mortal  story. 

( What  follows  is  to  the  Music  Desiiaga  and  the  Mode 
EkatalI.) 

Krishna,  till  thou  come  unto  her,  faint  she  lies  with 
love  and  fear; 

Even  the  jewels  of  her  necklet  seem  a load  too  great  to 
bear. 

Krishna,  till  thou  come  unto  her,  all  the  sandal  and  the 
flowers 

Vex  her  with  their  pure  perfection  though  they  grow  in 
heavenly  bowers. 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


41 


Krisluia,  till  tliou  come  uuto  her,  fair  albeit  tliose 
bowers  may  be, 

Passion  burns  her,  and  love’s  fire  fevers  her  for  lack  of 
thee. 

Krishna,  till  thou  come  unto  her,  those  divine  lids,  dark 
and  tender. 

Droop  like  lotus-leaves  in  rain-storms,  dashed  and  heavy 
in  their  splendour. 

Krishna,  till  thou  come  unto  her,  that  rose-couch  which 
she  hath  spread 

Saddens  with  its  empty  place,  its  double  pillow  for  one 
head. 

Krishna,  till  thou  come  unto  her,  from  her  palms  she 
will  not  lift 

The  dark  face  hidden  deep  within  them  like  the  moon 
in  cloudy  rift. 

Krishna,  till  thou  come  unto  her,  angel  though  she  be, 
thy  Love 

Sighs  and  suffers,  waits  and  watches — ^joyless  ’mid  those 
joys  above. 


42 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


Krishna,  till  thou  come  unto  her,  with  the  comfort  of 
thy  kiss 

Deeper  than  thy  loss,  0 Krishna ! must  be  loss  of 
Eaclha’s  bliss. 

Krishna,  while  thou  didst  forget  her — her,  thy  life,  thy 
gentle  fate — 

Wonderful  her  waiting  was,  her  pity  sweet,  her  patience 
great. 


Krishna,  come ! ’tis  grief  untold  to  grieve  her — shame 
to  let  her  sigh ; 

Come,  for  she  is  sick  with  love,  and  thou  her  only 
remedy. 

So  she  sang,  and  Jayadeva 
Prays  for  all,  and  prays  for  ever, 

That  Great  Hari  may  bestow 
Utmost  bliss  of  loving  so 
On  us  all ; — that  one  who  wore 
The  herdsman's  form,  and  heretofore. 

To  save  the  shepherd’s  threatened  flocic. 

Up  from  the  earth  reared  the  huge  rock — 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


43 


Bestoxo  it  with  a graciotis  hand. 

Albeit,  amid  the  woodland  hav,d. 

Clinging  dose  in  fond  caresses 
Krishna  gave  them  ardent  kisses, 

I'aking  on  his  lips  divine 
Earthly  stamp  and  woodland  sign. 

(Here  e7ids  that  Sarga  of  the  Cifa  Govinda  entitled 
SnIG  DU  AM  ADII USUDA  NO). 


( 44  ) 


SAJ^GA  THE  FIFTH 


SAKANDKSHAPUNDARIKAKSHO. 

THE  LOGGINGS  OF  KEISHNA, 

“ Say  I am  here ! oh,  if  she  pardons  me, 

Say  where  I am,  and  win  her  softly  liither.” 
So  Krishna  to  the  maid ; and  willingly 
She  came  again  to  Eadha,  and  she  sang : 

( What  follows  is  to  the  Music  DeshivaradI  and  the 
Mode  Eupaka.) 

Low  whispers  the  wind  from  Malaya 
Overladen  with  love; 

On  the  hills  all  the  grass  is  burned  yellow; 
And  the  trees  in  the  grove 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


45 


Droop  with  tendrils  that  mock  by  their  clinging 
The  thoughts  of  the  parted ; 

And  there  lies,  sore-sighing  for  thee, 

Thy  love,  altered-hearted. 


To  him  the  moon’s  icy-chill  silver 
Is  a sun  at  midday ; 

The  fever  he  burns  with  is  deeper 
Than  starlight  can  stay : 

Like  one  who  falls  stricken  by  arrows, 
With  the  colour  departed 
From  all  but  his  red  wounds,  so  lies 
Thy  love,  bleeding-hearted. 


To  the  music  the  banded  bees  make  him 
He  closeth  his  ear ; 

In  the  blossoms  their  small  horns  are  blowing 
The  honey-song  clear ; 

But  as  if  every  sting  to  his  bosom 
Its  smart  had  imparted. 

Low  lies  by  the  edge  of  the  river. 

Thy  love,  aching-hearted. 


46 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


By  the  edge  of  the  river,  far  wandered 
From  his  once  beloved  bowers, 

And  the  haunts  of  his  beautiful  playmates, 

And  the  beds  strewn  with  flowers ; 

Now  thy  name  is  his  playmate — that  only  ! — 
And  the  hard  rocks  upstarted 
From  the  sand  make  the  couch  where  he  lies, 
Thy  Krishna,  sad-hearted. 

Oh  may  Hari  fill  each  send. 

As  these  gentle  verses  roll 
Telling  of  the  anguish  borne 
By  kindred  ones  asunder  torn  ! 

Oh  may  Hari  unto  each 
All  the  lore  of  loving  teach, 

All  the  pain  and  all  the  bliss; 

Jayadeva  prayeth  this  ! 

Yea,  Lady  ! in  the  self-same  spot  he  waits 
Where  with  thy  kiss  thou  taught’st  him  utmost  love. 
And  drew  him,  as  none  else  draws,  with  thy  Jook  ; 
And  all  day  long,  and  all  night  long,  his  cry 
Is  " Badha,  Eadha,”  like  a spell  said  o’er ; 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


47 


And  in  his  heart  there  lives  no  wish  nor  nope 
Save  only  this,  to  slake  his  spirit’s  thirst 
For  Eadha’s  love  on  Eadha’s  lips ; and  find 
Peace  in  the  immortal  beauty  of  thy  brow’. 

( Uliat  follows  is  to  the  Music  Gurjjaiu  and  the  Mode 
EkatalI.) 

unstress,  sweet  and  bright  and  holy  ! 

^leet  him  in  that  place ; 

Change  his  cheerless  melancholy 
Into  joy  and  grace ; 

If  thou  hast  forgiven,  vex  not ; 

If  thou  lovest,  go. 

Watching  ever  by  the  river, 

Krishna  listens  low : 

Listens  low,  and  on  his  reed  there 
Softly  sounds  thy  name, 

Slaking  even  mute  things  plead  there 
For  his  hope : ’tis  shame 
That,  while  winds  are  welcome  to  him, 

If  from  thee  they  blow, 

Slournful  ever  by  the  river 
Krishna  waits  thee  so ! 


48 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


When  a bird’s  wing  stirs  the  roses. 
When  a leaf  falls  dead, 

Twenty  times  he  recomposes 
The  flower-seat  he  has  spread : 
Twenty  times,  with  anxious  glances 
Seeking  thee  in  vain, 

Sighing  ever  by  the  river, 

Krishna  droops  again. 


Loosen  from  thy  foot  the  bangle. 
Lest  its  golden  bell. 

With  a tiny,  tattling  jangle, 

Any  false  tale  tell : 

If  thou  fearest  that  the  moonlight 
Will  thy  glad  face  know, 

Draw  those  dark  braids  lower,  Lady ! 
But  to  Krishna  go. 


Swift  and  still  as  lightning’s  splendour 
Let  thy  beauty  come. 

Sudden,  gracious,  dazzling,  tender, 

To  his  arms — its  home. 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


49 


Swift  as  India’s  yellow  lightning, 
Shining  through  the  night. 
Glide  to  Krishna’s  lonely  bosom, 
Take  him  love  and  light. 


Grant,  at  last,  love’s  utmost  measure, 
Giving,  give  the  whole ; 

Keep  back  nothing  of  the  treasure 
Of  thy  priceless  soul : 

Hold  with  both  hands  out  unto  him 
Thy  chalice,  let  him  drain 
The  nectar  of  its  dearest  draught. 

Till  not  a wish  remain. 


Only  go — the  stars  are  setting. 

And  thy  Krishna  grieves ; 

Doubt  and  anger  quite  forgetting. 

Hasten  throusrh  the  leaves : 

O 

AVlierefore  didst  thou  lead  him  heav’nward 
But  for  this  thing’s  sake  ? 

Comfort  him  with  pity,  Eadha ! 

Or  his  heart  must  break. 


so  THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 

But  while  Jayadeva  writes 
This  rare  tale  of  deep  delights — 

Jayadev,  whose  heart  is  given 
Unto  Hari,  Lord  in  Heaven — 

See  that  ye  too,  as  ye  read, 

With  a glad  and  humble  heed. 

Bend  your  hrows  before  His  face. 

That  ye  may  have  bliss  and  grace. 

Aud  tlien  the  Maid,  compassionate,  sang  on — 

Lady,  most  sweet ! 

For  thy  coming  feet 

He  listens  in  the  wood,  with  love  sore-tried ; 

Faintly  sighing. 

Like  one  a-dying. 

He  sends  his  thoughts  afoot  to  meet  his  bride. 

Ah,  silent  one  I 
Sunk  is  the  sun. 

The  darkness  falls  as  deep  as  Krishna’s  sorrow ; 

The  chakor’s  strain 
Is  not  more  vain 

Than  mine,  and  soon  gray  dawn  will  bring  white 


morrow. 


rUE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


SI 


Aud  thine  own  bliss 
Delays  by  this ; 

Tlie  utmost  of  thy  heaven  comes  only  so 
When,  with  hearts  beating 
And  passionate  greeting, 

Parting  is  over,  and  the  parted  grow 

One — one  for  ever ! 

And  the  old  endeavour 
To  be  so  blended  is  assuaged  at  last ; 

And  the  glad  tears  raining 
Have  nought  remaining 

Of  doubt  or  ’plaining ; and  the  dread  has  passed 

Out  of  each  face. 

In  the  close  embrace, 

That  by-and-by  embracing  will  be  over ; 

The  ache  that  causes 
Those  mournful  pauses 
In  bowers  of  earth  between  lover  and  lover : 

To  be  no  more  felt. 

To  fade,  to  melt 

In  the  strong  certainty  of  joys  immortal ; 


52 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


In  the  glad  meeting, 

And  quick  sweet  greeting 
Of  lips  that  close  beyond  Time’s  shadowy  portal. 

And  to  thee  is  given, 

Angel  of  Heaven ! 

This  glory  and  this  joy  with  Krishna.  Go ! 

Let  him  attain, 

For  his  long  pain, 

The  prize  it  promised, — see  thee  coming  slow, 

A vision  first,  but  then — 

By  glade  and  glen — 

A lovely,  loving  soul,  true  to  its  home ; 

His  Queen — his  Crown — his  All, 
Hast’ning  at  last  to  faU 

Upon  his  breast,  and  live  there.  Eadha,  come ! 

Come  ! and  come  thou,  Lord  of  all, 

Unto  whom  the  Three  Worlds  call ; 

Thou,  that  didst  in  angry  might, 

Kansa,  like  a comet,  smite  ; 

Thou,  that  in  thy  passion  tender, 

\ 

As  incarnate  spell  and  splendour. 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


53 


Hxmg  on  Radha's  glorioxts  face — 

In  the  garh  of  Krishna’s  grace — 

As  above  the  bloom  the  bee, 

When  the  honeyed  revelry 
Is  too  subtle-siveet  an  one 
Not  to  hang  and  dall y on  ; 

Thou  that  art  the  Three  Worlds’  glory. 

Of  life  the  light,  of  every  story 
The  meaning  and  the  mark,  of  love 
The  root  and  flower,  o’  the  sky  above 
The  blue,  of  bliss  the  heart,  of  those. 

The  lovers,  that  which  did  impose 
The  gentle  law,  that  each  shoidd  be 
The  other’s  Heav’n  and  harmony. 

{Here  ends  that  Sarga  of  the  Gita  Govinda  entitled 
Sakandkshapuxdarikaksho.) 


( 54  ) 


SARGA  THE  SIXTH. 


D H R I S H T A V A I K U N T 0. 

KRISHNA  MADE  BOLDER. 

But  seeing  that,  for  all  her  loving  will, 

The  flower-soft  feet  of  Radha  had  not  power 
To  leave  their  place  and  go,  she  sped  again — 

That  maiden — and  to  Krishna’s  eager  ears 
Told  how  it  fared  with  his  sweet  mistress  there. 

( What  follows  is  to  the  Music  GondakirI  and  the  Mode 
Rupaka.) 

Krishna ! ’tis  thou  must  come,  (slie  sang) 

Ever  she  waits  thee  in  heavenly  bower ; 

The  lotus  seeks  not  the  wandering  bee. 

The  bee  must  find  the  flower. 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


55 


All  tlie  wood  over  her  deep  eyes  roam, 

Marvelling  sore  where  tarries  the  bee, 

Who  leaves  such  lips  of  nectar  unsought 
As  those  that  blossom  for  thee. 

1 ler  steps  would  fail  if  she  tried  to  come, 

Would  falter  and  fail,  with  yearning  weak ; 

At  the  first  of  the  road  they  would  falter  and  pause. 
And  the  way  is  strange  to  seek. 

Find  her  where  she  is  sitting,  then. 

With  lotus-blossom  on  ankle  and  arm 

Wearing  thine  emblems,  and  musing  of  nought 
But  the  meeting  to  be — glad,  warm. 

To  be — “but  wherefore  tarrieth  he?" 

“ What  can  stay  or  delay  him  ? — go ! 

See  if  the  soul  of  Krishna  comes,” 

Ten  times  she  sayeth  to  me  so ; 

Ten  times  lost  in  a languorous  swoon, 

“ Now  he  cometh — ^he  cometh,”  she  cries; 

And  a love-look  lightens  her  eyes  in  the  gloom. 

And  the  darkness  is  sweet  with  her  sighs. 


56  THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 

Till,  watching  in  vain,  she  glideth  again 

• Under  the  shade  of  the  whispering  leaves  ; 

With  a heart  too  full  of  its  love  at  last 
To  heed  how  her  bosom  heaves. 

Shall  not  these  fair  verses  swell 
The  number  of  the  wise  who  dwell 
In  the  realm  of  Kama’s  bliss  ? 

Jayadeva  -prayeth  this, 

Jayadev,  the  bard  of  Love, 

Servant  of  the  Gods  above. 

For  all  so  strong  in  Heaven  itself 

Is  Love,  that  Eadha  sits  drooping  there, 

Her  beautiful  bosoms  panting  with  thought. 
And  the  braids  drawn  back  from  her  ear. 

And — angel  albeit — her  rich  lips  breathe 
Sighs,  if  sighs  were  ever  so  sweet ; 

And — if  spirits  can  tremble — she  trembles  now 
From  forehead  to  jewelled  feet. 

And  her  voice  of  music  sinks  to  a sob. 

And  her  eyes,  like  eyes  of  a mated  roe, 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


57 


Are  tender  with  looks  of  yielded  love, 

With  dreams  dreamed  long  ago ; 

Long — long  ago,  but  soon  to  grow  truth. 

To  end,  and  be  waking  and  certain  and  true ; 

Of  which  dear  surety  murmur  her  lips. 

As  the  lips  of  sleepers  do : 

And,  dreaming,  she  loosens  her  gii-dle-pearls, 
And  opens  her  arms  to  the  empty  air. 

Then  starts,  if  a leaf  of  the  champak  falls. 
Sighing,  “ 0 leaf ! is  he  there  ? ” 

Why  dost  thou  linger  in  this  dull  spot, 

Haunted  by  serpents  and  evil  for  thee  ? 

Why  not  hasten  to  Xanda’s  House  ? 

It  is  plain,  if  thine  eyes  could  see. 


May  these  words  of  high  endeavour — ■ 
Fxdl  of  grace  and  gentle  favour — 
Find  out  those  whose  hearts  can  feci 
IVhat  the  message  did  reveal, 


58 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


Words  that  Radha's  messenger 
Unto  Krishna  took  from  her. 

Slowly  guiding  him  to  eorne 
Through  the  forest  to  his  home, 

Guiding  him  to  find  the  road 

Which  led — though  long — to  Laves  abode. 


{Here  ends  that  Sarga  of  the  Gita  Govinda  entitled 
Diikisiitavaikunto.) 


( 59  ) 


SARGA  THE  SEVENTH. 


I P R A L A B D H A Y A R N A N E 
N A G A R A N A R A Y A X O. 

KRISHNA  SUPPOSED  FALSE. 

Meantime  the  moon,  the  rolling  moon,  clomb  high, 

And  over  all  Yrindavana  it  shone ; 

The  moon  vrhich  on  the  front  of  gentle  night 
(Hearns  like  the  chundun-mark  on  beauty’s  brow ; 

The  conscious  moon  which  hath  its  silver  face 
!Marred  with  the  shame  of  lighting  earthly  loves : 

And  while  the  round  white  lamp  of  earth  rose  higher, 
And  still  he  tarried,  Eadha,  petulant. 

Sang  soft  impatience  and  half-earnest  fears : 


6o 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


(What  follows  is  to  the  Music  Malava  and  the  Mode 
Yati.) 

’Tis  time  I — he  comes  not ! — will  he  come  ? 

Can  he  leave  me  thus  to  pine  ? 

Yami  M ham  sharanam  ! 

Ah  ! what  refuge  then  is  mine  ? 


For  his  sake  I sought  the  wood, 
Threaded  dark  and  devious  ways ; 
Yami  M ham  sharanam  ! 

Can  it  be  Krishna  betrays  ? 

Let  me  die  then,  and  forget 
Anguish,  patience,  hope,  and  fear ; 
Yami  M ham  sharanam  ! 

Ah,  why  have  I held  him  dear  ? 


Ah,  this  soft  night  torments  me. 
Thinking  that  his  faithless  arms — 
Yami  M ham  sharanam  ! — 

Clasp  some  shadow  of  my  charms. 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


6i 


Fatal  shadow — fooKsh  mock  ! 

When  the  great  love  shone  confessed ; — 
Yami  M karti  sharanam  ! 

Krishna’s  lotus  loads  my  breast ; 

'Tis  too  heavy,  lacking  him ; 

Like  a broken  flower  I am — 

Necklets,  jewels,  what  are  ye  ? 

Yami  M ham  sharanam  ! 

Yami  M ham  sharanam  ! 

The  sky  is  still,  the  forest  sleeps  ; 
Krishna  forgets — he  loves  no  more ; 

He  fails  in  faith,  and  Eadha  weeps. 

But  the  poet  Jayadev — 

He  who  is  great  Haris  slave. 

He  who  finds  asylum  sweet 
Only  at  great  Hari’s  feet ; 

He  who  for  your  comfort  sings 
All  this  to  the  Vinas  strings — 

Prays  that  Radha’s  tender  moan 
In  your  hearts  he  thought  upon. 


62 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


And  that  all  her  holy  grace 
Live  there  like  the  loved  one’s  face. 

Yet,  if  I wrong  him  ! (sang  she) — can  he  fail  ? 

Could  any  in  the  wood  win  back  his  kisses  ? 

Could  any  softest  lips  of  earth  prevail 
To  hold  him  from  my  arms  ? any  love-blisses 

Blind  him  once  more  to  mine  ? 0 Soul,  my  prize  ! 

Art  thou  not  merely  hindered  at  this  hour  ? 

Sore- wearied,  wandering,  lost  ? how  otherwise 
Shouldst  thou  not  hasten  to  the  bridal-bower  ? 

But  seeing  far  away  that  Maiden  come 

Alone,  with  eyes  cast  down  and  lingering  steps, 

Auain  a little  while  she  feared  to  hear 

Of  Krishna  false ; and  her  quick  thoughts  took  shape 

In  a fine  jealousy,  with  words  like  these — 

Something  then  of  earth  has  held  him 
From  his  home  above. 

Some  one  of  those  slight  deceivers — 

Ah,  my  foolish  love ! 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


63 


Some  new  face,  some  winsome  playmate, 
With  her  hair  untied. 

And  the  blossoms  tangled  in  it, 

Woos  him  to  her  side. 

On  the  dark  orbs  of  her  bosom — 
Passionately  heaved — 

Sink  and  rise  the  warm,  white  pearl-strings. 
Oh,  my  love  deceived  ! 

Fair  ? yes,  yes ! the  rippled  shadow 
Of  that  midnight  hair 

Shows  above  her  brow — as  clouds  do 
O’er  the  moon — most  fair : 

And  she  knows,  with  wilful  paces. 

How  to  make  her  zone 

Gleam  and  please  him ; and  her  ear-rings 
Tinkle  love ; and  grown 

Coy  as  he  grows  fond,  she  meets  him 
With  a modest  show  ; 

Shaming  truth  with  truthful  seeming, 

While  her  laugh — light,  low — 


64 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


And  her  subtle  mouth  that  murmurs, 

And  her  silken  cheek, 

And  her  eyes,  say  she  dissembles 
Plain  as  speech  could  speak. 

Till  at  length,  a fatal  victress. 

Of  her  triumph  vain. 

On  his  neck  she  lies  and  smiles  there : — 
Ah,  my  Joy  ! — my  Pain ! 

But  may  Eadha's  fond  annoy, 

And  may  Krishna’s  dawning  joy. 

Warm  and  waken  love  more  fit— 
Jayadeva  prayeth  it — 

And  the  griefs  and  sins  assuage 
Of  this  blind  and  evil  age. 

0 Moon ! (she  sang)  that  art  so  pure  and  pale. 

Is  Krishna  wan  like  thee  with  lonely  waiting  ? 
0 lamp  of  love ! art  thou  the  lover’s  friend. 

And  wilt  not  bring  him,  my  long  pain  abating  ? 
0 fruitless  moon ! thou  dost  increase  my  pain 
0 faithless  Krishna ! I have  striven  in  vain. 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


65 


And  then,  lost  in  her  fancies  sad,  she  moaned — 


( What  follows  is  to  the  Mv.sic  GurjjarI  and  the  Mode 
EkatalL) 


In  vain,  in  vain  ! 

Earth  will  of  earth ! I mourn  more  than  I blame ; 

If  he  had  known,  he  would  not  sit  and  paint 
The  tilka  on  her  smooth  black  brow,  nor  claim 
Quick  kisses  from  her  yielded  lips — false,  faint — 
False,  fragrant,  fatal ! Krishna’s  quest  is  o’er 
By  Jumna’s  shore ! 

Vain — it  was  vain  ! 

The  temptress  was  too  near,  the  heav’n  too  far ; 

I can  but  weep  because  he  sits  and  ties 
Garlands  of  fire-flowers  for  her  loosened  hair, 

And  in  its  silken  shadow  veils  his  eyes 
And  buries  his  fond  face.  Yet  I forgave 
By  Jumna’s  wave ! 

Vainly!  all  vain ! 

JIake  then  the  most  of  that  whereto  thou’rt  given. 
Feign  her  thy  Paradise — thy  Love  of  loves ; 

E 


66 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


Say  that  her  eyes  are  stars,  her  face  the  heaven, 
Her  bosoms  the  two  worlds,  with  sandal-groves 
Full-scented,  and  the  kiss-marks — ah,  thy  dream 
By  Jumna’s  stream ! 

It  shall  be  vain  ! 

And  vain  to  string  the  emeralds  on  her  arm. 

And  hang  the  milky  pearls  upon  her  neck. 
Saying  they  are  not  jewels,  hut  a swarm 
Of  crowded,  glossy  bees,  come  there  to  suck 
The  rosebuds  of  her  breast,  the  sweetest  flowers 
Of  Jumna’s  bowers. 

That  shall  be  vain ! 

Nor  wilt  thou  so  believe  thine  own  blind  wooing, 
Nor  slake  thy  heart’s  thirst  even  with  the  cup 
Which  at  the  last  she  brims  for  thee,  undoing 
Her  girdle  of  carved  gold,  and  yielding  up, 
Love’s  uttermost : brief  the  poor  gain  and  pride 
By  Jumna’s  tide 

Because  still  vain 

Is  love  that  feeds  on  shadow ; vain,  as  thou  dost. 
To  look  so  deep  into  the  phantom  eyes 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


67 


For  that  which  lives  not  there;  and  vain,  as  thou  must, 
To  marvel  why  the  painted  pleasure  flies, 

When  the  fair,  false  wings  seemed  folded  for  ever 
By  Jumna’s  river. 

And  vain  ! yes,  vain ! 

For  me  too  is  it,  having  so  much  striven. 

To  see  this  slight  snare  take  thee,  and  thy  soul 
Which  should  have  climbed  to  mine,  and  shared  my 
heaven. 

Spent  on  a lower  loveliness,  whose  whole 
Passion  of  claim  were  but  a parody 
Of  that  kept  here  for  thee. 

Ahaha!  vain! 

For  on  some  isle  of  Jumna’s  silver  stream 
He  gives  all  that  they  ask  to  those  hard  eyes, 
While  mine  which  are  his  angel’s,  mine  which  gleam 
With  light  that  might  have  led  him  to  the  skies — 
That  almost  led  him — are  eclipsed  with  tears 
Wailing  my  fruitless  prayers. 

But  thou,  good  Friend, 

Hang  not  thy  head  for  shame,  nor  come  so  slowly. 
As  one  whose  message  is  too  ill  to  tell ; 


63 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


If  thou  must  say  Krishna  is  forfeit  wholly — 

Wholly  forsworn  and  lost — let  the  grief  dwell 
Where  the  sin  doth, — except  in  this  sad  heart, 
Which  cannot  shun  its  part. 

0 great  Hari  ! purge  from  wrong 
The  soul  of  Mm  who  writes  this  song  ; 

Purge  the  souls  of  those  that  read 
From  every  fault  of  thought  and  deed  ; 

With  thy  blessed  light  assuage 
The  darkness  of  this  evil  age  ! 

Jayadev  the  hard  of  love. 

Servant  of  the  Gods  above, 

Prays  it  for  himself  and  you — 

Gentle  hearts  who  listen  ! — too. 

Then  in  this  other  strain  she  wailed  his  loss — 

{What  follows  is  to  the  Music  DesiiavaradI  and  the 
Mode  Kupaka. 

She,  not  hadha,  wins  the  crown 
Whose  false  lips  were  dearest ; 


rilE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


69 


What  was  distant  gain  to  him 
When  sweet  loss  stood  nearest  ? 

Love  her,  therefore,  lulled  to  loss 
On  her  fatal  bosom ; 

Love  her  with  such  love  as  she 
Can  give  back  in  the  blossom. 

Love  her,  0 thou  rash  lost  soul ! 
With  thy  thousand  graces ; 

Coin  rare  thoughts  into  fair  words 
For  her  face  of  faces ; 

Praise  it,  fling  away  for  it 
Life’s  purpose  in  a sigh, 

All  for  those  lips  like  flower-leaves. 
And  lotus-dark  deep  eye. 

Nay,  and  thou  shalt  be  happy  too 
Till  the  fond  dream  is  over ; 

And  she  shall  taste  delight  to  hear 
The  wooing  of  her  lover ; 

The  breeze  that  brings  the  sandal  up 
From  distant  green  Malay, 

Shall  seem  all  fragrance  in  the  night, 
All  coolness  in  the  day. 


70  THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 

The  crescent  moon  shall  seem  to  swim 
Only  that  she  may  see 
The  glad  eyes  of  my  Krishna  gleam, 

And  her  soft  glances  he : 

It  shall  be  as  a silver  lamp 
Set  in  the  sky  to  show 
The  rose-leaf  palms  that  cling  and  clasp, 
And  the  breast  that  beats  below. 


The  thought  of  parting  shall  not  lie 
Cold  on  their  throbbing  lives. 

The  dread  of  ending  shall  not  chill 
The  glow  beginning  gives ; 

She  in  her  beauty  dark  shall  look — 
As  long  as  clouds  can  be — 

As  gracious  as  the  rain-time  cloud 
Kissing  the  shining  sea. 


And  he,  amid  his  playmates  old. 

At  least  a little  while, 

Sliall  not  breathe  forth  again  the  sigh 
That  spoils  the  song  and  smile ; 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


71 


Sliall  be  left  wholly  to  his  choice, 

Free  for  his  pleasant  sin, 

With  the  golden-girdled  damsels 
Of  the  bowers  I found  him  in. 

For  me,  his  Angel,  only 
The  sorrow  and  the  smart. 

The  pale  grief  sitting  on  the  brow, 

The  dead  hope  in  the  heart ; 

For  me  the  loss  of  losing. 

For  me  the  ache  and  dearth ; 

^ly  king  crowned  with  the  wood-flowers  ! 
]\Iy  fairest  upon  earth ! 

ITari,  Lord  and  King  of  love  ! 

From  thy  throne  of  light  above 
Stoop  to  help  Its,  deign  to  take 
Our  spirits  to  thee  for  the  sake 
Of  this  song,  which  speaks  the  fears 
Of  all  who  weep  with  Badha’s  tears. 

But  love  is  strong  to  pardon,  slow  to  part, 

And  still  the  Lady,  in  her  fancies,  sang — 


72 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


Wind  of  the  Indian  stream ! 

4.  little — oh ! a little — breathe  once  more 
The  fragrance  like  his  mouth’s ! blow  from  thy  shore 
One  last  word  as  he  fades  into  a dream ; 

Bodiless  Lord  of  love ! 

Show  him  once  more  to  me  a minute’s  space, 

My  Krishna,  with  the  love-look  in  his  face, 

And  then  I come  to  my  own  place  above ; 

I will  depart  and  give 
All  back  to  Fate  and  her : I will  submit 
To  thy  stern  will,  and  bow  myself  to  it. 

Enduring  still,  though  desolate,  to  live  : 

If  it  indeed  be  life. 

Even  so  resigning,  to  sit  patience-mad. 

To  feel  the  zephyrs  burn,  the  sunlight  sad. 

The  peace  of  holy  heaven,  a restless  strife. 

Haho ! what  words  are  these  ? 

How  can  1 live  and  lose  him  ? how  not  go  , 
Whither  love  draws  me  for  a soul  loved  so  ? 

How  yet  endure  such  sorrow  ? — or  how  cease  ? 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


73 


Wind  of  the  Indian  wave! 

If  that  thou  canst,  blow  poison  here,  not  nard  ; 
God  of  the  five  shafts ! shoot  thy  sharpest  hard, 
And  kill  me,  Kadha, — Radha  who  forgave  1 

Or,  bitter  River, 

Yamfiu!  be  Yama’s  sister!  be  Death’s  kin! 
Swell  thy  w'ave  up  to  me  and  gulf  me  in. 
Cooling  this  cruel,  burning  pain  for  ever. 

Ah  ! if  only  visions  stir 
Grief  so  passionate  in  her, 

IVhat  divine  grief  will  not  take. 

Spirits  in  heaven  for  the  sake 
Of  those  who  miss  love  ? Oh,  he  wise ! 

Mark  this  story  of  the  skies  ; 

Meditate  Govinda  ever. 

Sitting  hy  the  sacred  river. 

The  mystic  stream,  which  o’er  his  feet 
Glides  slow,  with  murmurs  low  and  sweet, 
TUI  none  can  tell  whether  those  he 
Blvee  lotus-hlooms,  seen  veiledly 
Under  the  wave,  or  mirrored  gems 
Reflected  from  the  diadems 


74 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


Bound  on  the  brows  of  mighty  Gods, 

Who  lean  from  out  their  pure  abodes, 

And  leave  their  bright  felicities 
To  guide  great  Krishna  to  his  skies. 

{Here  ends  that  Sarga  of  the  Gita  Govinda  entitled 
ViPRALABDHAVARNANE  NaGARAXARAYANO.) 


( 75  ) 


SARGA  THE  EIGHTH. 

KHANDITAVARNANE 
V I L A K S H A L A K S H :\I  I P A T I. 

THE  REBUKING  OF  KRISHNA. 

For  when  the  weary  night  had  worn  away 
In  these  vain  fears,  and  the  clear  morning  broke, 
Lo,  Krishna ! lo,  the  longed-for  of  her  soul 
Came  too ! — in  the  glad  light  he  came,  and  bent 
His  knee,  and  clasped  his  hands ; on  his  dumb  Ups 
Fear,  wonder,  joy,  passion,  and  reverence 
Strove  for  the  trembling  words,  and  Eadha  knew 
Joy  won  for  him  and  her;  yet  none  the  less 
A little  time  she  chided  him,  and  sang : 


76 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


( What  follows  is  to  the  Music  Bhairav!  awL  the  Mode 
Yati.) 

Krishna ! — then  thou  hast  found  me  ! — and  thine  eyes 
Heavy  and  sad  and  stained,  as  if  with  weeping ! 

Ah  ! is  it  not  that  those,  which  were  thy  prize. 

So  radiant  seemed  that  all  night  thou  wert  keeping 
Vigils  of  tender  wooing  ? — have  thy  Love  ! 

Here  is  no  place  for  vows  broken  in  making; 

Thou  Lotus-eyed ! thou  soul  for  whom  I strove  ! 

Go ! ere  I listen,  my  just  mind  forsaking. 

Krishna ! my  Krishna  with  the  woodland-wreath ! 

Return,  or  I shall  soften  as  I blame ; 

Tlie  while  thy  very  lips  are  dark  to  the  teeth 
With  dye  that  from  her  lids  and  lashes  came, 

Left  on  the  mouth  I touched.  Fair  traitor ! go  ! 

Say  not  they  darkened,  lacking  food  and  sleep 
Long  waiting  for  my  face ; I turn  it — so — 

Go ! ere  I half  believe  thee,  pleading  deep ; 

But  wilt  thou  plead,  when,  like  a love-verse  printed 
On  the  smooth  polish  of  an  emerald, 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


77 


T see  the  marks  she  stamped,  the  kisses  dinted 
Large-lettered,  by  her  lips  ? thy  speech  withheld 
Speaks  all  too  plainly ; go, — abide  thy  choice  ! 

If  thou  dost  stay,  I shall  more  greatly  grieve  thee 
Not  records  of  her  victory  ? — peace,  dear  voice  ! 
Hence  with  that  godlike  brow,  lest  I believe  thee. 


For  dar’st  thou  feign  the  saffron  on  thy  bosom 
Was  not  implanted  in  disloyal  embrace  ? 

Or  that  this  many-coloured  love-tree  blossom 
Shone  not,  but  yesternight,  above  her  face  ? 
Comest  thou  here,  so  late,  to  be  forgiven, 

0 thou,  in  whose  eyes  Truth  was  made  to  live  ? 
0 thou,  so  worthy  else  of  grace  and  heaven  ? 

0 thou,  so  nearly  won  ? Ere  I forgive. 


Go,  Krishna ! go ! — lest  I should  think,  unwise. 
Thy  heart  not  false,  as  thy  long  lingering  seems. 
Lest,  seeing  myself  so  imaged  in  thine  eyes, 

I shame  the  name  of  Pity — turn  to  dreams 
The  sacred  sound  of  vows ; make  Virtue  grudge 
Her  praise  to  Mercy,  calling  thy  sin  slight ; 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


, 78 

Go  therefore,  dear  offender!  go!  thy  Judge 
Had  best  not  see  thee  to  give  sentence  right.* 

But  may  he  grant  us  peace  at  last  and  bliss 
IFho  heard, — and  smiled  to  hear, — delays  like  this. 
Belays  that  dallied  with  a dream  come  true. 

Fond  wilful  angers  ; for  the  maid  laughed  too 
To  see,  as  Radha  ended,  her  hand  take 
His  dark  robe  for  her  veil,  and  Krishna  make 
The  word  she  spoke  for  parting  kindliest  sign 
He  should  not  go,  but  stay.  0 grace  divine. 

Be  ours  too  ! Jayadev,  the  Poet  of  love, 

Prays  it  from  Hari,  lordliest  above. 

{Here  ends  that  Sarga  of  the  Gita  Govinda  entitled 
KhANDITAVARNANE  ViLAKSlIALAKSHMIPATI.) 


The  text  here  is  not  closely  followed. 


( 79  ) 


SARGA  THE  NINTH 

KALAHANTARITAVA  RNANE 
MUGDHAMUKUNDO. 

THE  END  OF  KRISHNA’S  TRIAL 

Yet  not  quite  did  the  doubts  of  Eadha  die, 

Nor  her  sweet  brows  unbend;  but  she,  the  Maid — 
Knowing  her  heart  so  tender,  her  soft  arms 
Acliing  to  take  him  in,  her  rich  mouth  sad 
For  the  comfort  of  his  kiss,  and  these  fears  false — 
Spake  yet  a little  in  fair  words  like  these  : 

( ^Vllat  follows  is  to  the  Music  GurjjarI  and  the  Mode 
Y’ati.) 

The  lesson  that  thy  faithful  love  has  taught  him 
He  has  heard ; 

The  wind  of  spring,  obeying  thee,  hath  brought  him 
At  thy  word ; 


8o 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


What  joy  in  all  the  three  worlds  was  so  precious 
To  thy  mind  ? 

Md  kooroo  mdnini  mdnamayh* 

Ah,  be  kind ! 

No  longer  from  his  earnest  eyes  conceal 
Thy  delights ; 

Lift  thy  face,  and  let  the  jealous  veil  reveal 
All  his  rights ; 

The  glory  of  thy  beauty  was  but  given 
For  content; 

Md  kooroo  mdnini  mdnamayh. 

Oh,  relent ! 

Eemember,  being  distant,  how  he  bore  thee 
In  his  heart ; 

Look  on  him  sadly  turning  from  before  thee 
To  depart ; 

Is  he  not  the  soul  thou  lovedst,  sitting  lonely 
In  the  wood  ? 

Md  kooi'oo  mdnini  mdnamayi, 

’Tis  not  good ! 


My  proud  one  ! do  not  indulge  in  scorn. 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


8i 


lie  who  grants  thee  high  delight  in  bridal-bower 
Pardons  long ; 

What  the  gods  do  love  may  do  at  such  an  hour 
Without  wrong ; 

Why  weepest  thou  ? why  keepest  thou  in  anger 
Thy  lashes  down  ? 

Md  kooroo  mdnini  mdnamay^, 

Do  not  frown ! 

Lift  thine  eyes  now,  and  look  on  him,  bestowing. 
Without  speech ; 

Let  him  pluck  at  last  the  flower  so  sweetly  growing 
In  his  reach  ; 

The  fruit  of  lips,  of  loving  tones,  of  glances 
That  forgive ; 

Md  kooroo  mdnini  mdnamayt. 

Let  him  live ! 

Let  him  speak  with  thee,  and  pray  to  thee,  and 
prove  thee 

All  his  truth ; 

Let  his  silent  loving  lamentation  move  thee 
Asking  ruth ; 

F 


82 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


How  knowest  thou  ? Ah,  listen,  dearest  Lady, 
He  is  there ; 

Md  kooroo  mdnini  rndnamayh, 

Thou  must  hear ! 

0 rare  voice,  which  is  a spell 
Unto  all  on  earth  who  dwell ! 

0 rich  voice  of  rapturous  love. 

Making  melody  ahove  ! 

Krishna's,  Sari’s — one  in  two, 

Sound  these  mortal  verses  through  1 
Sou'fid  like  that  soft  flute  which  made 
Such  a magic  in  the  shade — 

Calling  deer- eyed  maidens  nigh. 

Waking  wish  and  stirring  sigh. 

Thrilling  blood  and  melting  breasts, 
IVhispering  love’s  divine  unrests. 
Winning  blessings  to  descend, 

Bringing  earthly  ills  to  end ; — 

Be  thou  heard  in  this  song  now 
Thou,  the  great  Enchantment,  thou  I 


{Here  ends  that  Sarga  of  the  Gita  Govinda  entitled 
KaLAHANTAKITAVARNANE  MUGDllAMUKUNnO.) 


( 83  ) 


SARGA  THE  TENTH. 


M ANINI V ARN ANE 
CHATURACHATURBHUJO. 

KRISHNA  IN  PARADISE. 

But  she,  abasing  still  her  glorious  eyes, 

And  stUl  not  yielding  all  her  face  to  him. 

Relented ; till  with  softer  upturned  look 
She  smiled,  while  the  Maid  pleaded ; so  thereat 
Came  Krishna  nearer,  and  his  eager  hps 
^lixed  sighs  with  words  in  this  fond  song  he  sang: 

( follows  is  to  the  Music  DESHiYAVAEAui  and  the 
Mode  Ashtatali.) 

0 angel  of  my  hope ! 0 my  heart’s  home  ! 
ily  fear  is  lost  in  love,  my  love  in  fear ; 


84 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


This  bids  me  trust  my  burning  wish,  and  come, 

That  checks  me  with  its  memories,  drawing  near : 
Lift  up  thy  look,  and  let  the  thing  it  saith 
End  fear  with  grace,  or  darken  love  to  death. 

Or  only  speak  once  more,  for  though  thou  slay  me. 
Thy  heavenly  mouth  must  move,  and  I shall  hear 
Dulcet  delights  of  perfect  music  sway  me 
Again — again  that  voice  so  blest  and  dear ; 

Sweet  Judge  ! the  prisoner  prayeth  for  his  doom 
That  he  may  hear  his  fate  divinely  come. 

Speak  once  more ! then  thou  canst  not  choose  but  show 
Thy  mouth’s  unparalleled  and  honeyed  wonder 
Where,  like  pearls  hid  in  red-lipped  shells,  the  row 
Of  pearly  teeth  thy  rose-red  lips  lie  under ; 

Ah  me ! I am  that  bird  that  woos  the  moon. 

And  pipes — poor  fool ! to  make  it  glitter  soon. 

Yet  hear  me  on — because  I cannot  stay 

The  passion  of  my  soul,  because  my  gladness 
Will  pour  forth  from  my  heart ; — since  that  far  day 
When  through  the  mist  of  all  my  sin  and  sadness 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


85 


Thou  didst  vouchsafe — Surpassing  One  ! — to  break. 

All  else  I slighted  for  thy  noblest  sake. 

Thou,  thou  hast  been  my  blood,  my  breath,  my  being ; 

The  pearl  to  plunge  for  in  the  sea  of  life ; 

The  sight  to  strain  for,  past  the  bounds  of  seeing ; 

The  victory  to  win  through  longest  strife ; 

!My  Queen  ! my  crowned  Mistress  ! my  sphered  bride ! 
Take  this  for  truth,  that  what  I say  beside 

Of  bold  love — grown  full-orbed  at  sight  of  thee — 

May  be  forgiven  with  a quick  remission ; 

For,  thou  divine  fulfilment  of  all  hope  ! 

Thou  all-undreamed  completion  of  the  vision  ! 

I gaze  upon  thy  beauty,  and  my  fear 

Passes  as  clouds  do,  when  the  moon  shines  clear. 

So  if  thouTt  angry  still,  this  shall  avail. 

Look  straight  at  me,  and  let  thy  bright  glance  wound 
me; 

Fetter  me  ! gjwe  me  1 lock  me  in  the  gaol 
Of  thy  delicious  arms ; make  fast  around  me 
The  silk-soft  manacles  of  wrists  and  hands. 

Then  kill  me  ! I shall  never  break  those  bands. 


86 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OP  SONGS. 


The  starlight  jewels  flaslaing  on  thy  breast 
Have  not  my  right  to  hear  thy  beating  heart ; 

The  happy  jasmine-buds  that  clasp  thy  waist 
Are  soft  usurpers  of  my  place  and  part ; 

If  that  fair  girdle  only  there  must  shine, 

Give  me  the  girdle’s  life — the  girdle  mine  ! 

Thy  brow  like  smooth  Bandhhka-leaves ; thy  cheek 
Which  the  dark-tinted  Madhuk’s  velvet  shows ; 
Thy  long-lashed  Lotus  eyes,  lustrous  and  meek ; 

Thy  nose  a Tila-bud ; thy  teeth  like  rows 
Of  Kunda-petals  ! he  who  pierceth  hearts 
Points  with  thy  lovelinesses  all  five  darts. 

But  Eadiant,  Perfect,  Sweet,  Supreme,  forgive ! 

My  heart  is  wise — my  tongue  is  foolish  still : 

I know  where  I am  come — I know  I live — 

I know  that  thou  art  Kadha — that  this  will 
Last  and  be  heaven : that  1 have  leave  to  rise 
Up  from  thy  feet,  and  look  into  thine  eyes! 

And,  nearer  coming,  I ask  for  grace 
Now  that  the  blest  eyes  turn  to  mine; 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS.  87 

Faithful  I stand  in  this  sacred  place 
Since  first  I saw  them  shine : 

Dearest  glory  that  stills  my  voice, 

Beauty  unseen,  unknown,  unthought ! 

Splendour  of  love,  in  whose  sweet  light 
Darkness  is  past  and  nought ; 

Ah,  beyond  words  that  sound  on  earth, 

Golden  bloom  of  the  garden  of  heaven ! 

Kadha,  enchantress ! Kadha,  the  queen ! 

Be  this  trespass  forgiven — 

In  that  I dare,  with  courage  too  much 
And  a heart  afraid, — so  bold  it  is  grown — 

To  hold  thy  hand  with  a bridegroom’s  touch. 

And  take  thee  for  mine,  mine  own.* 
aS(9  I/iey  met  and  so  they  ended 
Pain  and  farting,  being  blended 
Life  with  life — made  one  for  ever  . 

In  high  love  ; and  Jayadeva 
Hasteneth  on  to  close  the  story 
Of  their  bridal  grace  and  glory. 

{Here  ends  that  Sarga  of  the  Gita  Govinda  entitled 
Maninivaexane  Chaturachaturbhpjo.) 


Much  here  also  is  necessarily  paraphrased. 


( 88  ) 


SAUGA  THE  ELEVENTH. 


EADHIKAMILANE 

SANANDADAMODAEO. 

THE  UNION  OF  EADHA  AND  KEISHNA. 

Thus  followed  soft  and  lasting  peace,  and  griefs 
Died  while  she  listened  to  his  tender  tongue, 

Her  eyes  of  antelope  alight  with  love ; 

And  while  he  led  the  way  to  the  bride-bower 
The  maidens  of  her  train  adorned  her  fair 
With  golden  marriage-cloths,  and  sang  this  song : 

(What  follows  is  to  the  M%esic  Vasanta  and  the  Mode 
Yati.) 

Follow,  happy  Kadha ! follow, — 

In  the  quiet  falling  twilight — 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


89 


The  steps  of  him  ■who  followed  thee 
So  steadfastly  and  far; 

Let  us  bring  thee  where  the  banjulas 
Have  spread  a roof  of  crimson, 

Lit.np  by  many  a marriage-lamp 
Of  planet,  sun,  and  star : 

For  the  hours  of  doubt  are  over. 

And  thv  glad  and  faithful  lover 
Hath  foiind  the  road  by  tears  and  prayers 
To  thy  divinest  side ; 

And  thou  wilt  not  now  deny  him 
One  delight  of  all  thy  beauty, 

But  yield  up  open-hearted 
His  pearl,  his  prize,  his  bride. 

Oh,  follow ! while  we  fill  the  air 
With  songs  and  softest  music ; 

Lauding  thy  wedded  loveliness, 

Dear  Mistress  past  compare ! 

For  there  is  not  any  splendour 
Of  Apsarases  immortal — 

No  glory  of  their  beauty  rich — 

But  Eadha  has  a share ; 


90  THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 

Oh,  follow ! while  we  sing  the  song 
That  fills  the  worlds  with  longing, 

The  music  of  the  Lord  of  love 
Who  melts  all  hearts  with  bliss ; 

Tor  now  is  born  the  gladness 

That  springs  from  mortal  sadness, 

And  all  soft  thoughts  and  things  and  hopes 
Were  presages  of  this. 

Then,  follow,  happiest  Lady ! 

Follow  him  thou  lovest  wholly; 

The  hour  is  come  to  follow  now 
The  soul  thy  spells  have  led ; 

Ilis  are  thy  breasts  like  jasper-cups. 

And  his  thine  eyes  like  planets ; 

Thy  fragrant  hair,  thy  stately  neck. 

Thy  queenly  sumptuous  head  ; 

Thy  soft  small  feet,  thy  perfect  lips, 

Thy  teeth  like  jasmine  petals. 

Thy  gleaming  rounded  shoulders, 

And  long  caressing  arms, 

Being  thine  to  give,  are  his ; and  his  ’ 

The  twin  strings  of  thy  girdle. 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


9> 


And  his  the  priceless  treasure 
Of  thine  utter-sweetest  charms. 

►So  follow  I while  the  flowers  break  forth 
lu  white  and  amber  clusters, 

At  the  breath  of  thy  pure  presence, 

And  the  radiance  on  thy  brow ; 

Oil,  follow  where  the  Asokas  wave 
Their  sprays  of  gold  and  purple. 

As  if  to  beckon  thee  the  way 
That  Krishna  passed  but  now ; 
lie  is  gone  a little  forward ! 

Though  thy  steps  are  faint  for  pleasure. 
Let  him  hear  the  tattling  ripple 
Of  the  bangles  round  thy  feet ; 

Moving  slowly  o’er  the  blossoms 

On  the  path  which  he  has  shown  thee. 
That  when  he  turns  to  listen 

It  may  make  his  fond  heart  beat. 

And  loose  thy  jewelled  girdle 
A little,  that  its  rubies 
May  tinkle  softest  music  too, 

And  whisper  thou  art  near; 


92 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


Though  now,  if  in  the  forest 

Thou  should’st  bend  one  blade  of  Kusha 
With  silken  touch  of  passing  foot, 

His  heart  would  know  and  hear ; 

Would  hear  the  wood-buds  saying, 

“ It  is  Eadha’s  foot  that  passes ; ” 

Would  hear  the  wind  sigh  love-sick, 

“ It  is  Eadha’s  fragrance,  this ; ” 

Would  hear  thine  own  heart  beating 
Within  thy  panting  bosom. 

And  know  thee  coming,  coming, 

His — ever, — ever — his ! 

“ Mine  ! ” — hark ! we  are  near  enough  for  hearing — 
“Soon  she  will  come — she  will  smile — she  will  say 
Honey-sweet  words  of  heavenly  endearing  ; 

0 soul ! listen;  my  Bride  is  on  her  way!” 

Hear’st  him  not,  my  Eadha  ? 

Lo,  night  bendeth  o’er  thee — 

Darker  than  dark  Tamala-leaves — 

To  list  thy  marriage-song ; 

Dark  as  the  touchstone  that  tries  gold. 

And  see  now — on  before  thee — 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


93 


Those  lines  of  tender  light  that  creep 
The  clouded  sky  along : 

O night ! that  trieth  gold  of  love, 

This  love  is  proven  perfect ! 

0 lines  that  streak  the  touchstone  sky, 
Flash  forth  true  shining  gold  ! 

O rose-leaf  feet,  go  boldly ! 

O night ! — that  lovest  lovers — 

Thy  softest  robe  of  silence 
About  these  bridals  fold ! 

See’st  thou  not,  my  Eadha  ? 

Lo,  the  night,  thy  bridesmaid. 

Comes ! — her  eyes  thick-painted 
With  soorma  of  the  gloom — 

The  night  that  binds  the  planet-worlds 
For  jewels  on  her  forehead, 

And  for  emblem  and  for  garland 
Loves  the  blue-black  lotus-bloom ; 

The  night  that  scents  her  breath  so  sweet 
With  cool  and  musky  odours, 

Tliat  joys  to  spread  her  veil  of  shade 
Over  the  limbs  of  love ; 


94 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


And  when,  with  loving  weary, 

Yet  dreaming  love,  they  slumber. 

Sets  the  far  stars  for  silver  lamps 
To  light  them  from  above. 

So  came  she  where  he  stood,  awaiting  her 
At  the  bower’s  entry,  like  a god  to  see. 

With  marriage-gladness  and  the  grace  of  heaven. 
The  great  pearl  set  upon  his  glorious  head 
Shone  like  a moon  among  the  leaves,  and  slione 
Like  stars  the  gems  that  kept  her  gold  gown  close 
Lut  stdl  a little  while  she  paused — abashed 
At  lier  delight,  of  her  deep  joy  afraid — 

And  they  that  tended  her  sang  once  more  this  : 

( What  follows  is  to  the  Music  Varadi  and  the  Mode 
Rupaka.) 

I'inter,  thrice-happy ! enter,  thrice-desired  ! 

And  let  the  gates  of  Hari  shut  thee  in 
With  the  soul  destined  to  thee  from  of  old. 

Tremble  not ! lay  thy  lovely  shame  aside ; 

Lay  it  aside  with  thine  unfastened  zone, 

And  love  him  with  the  love  that  knows  not  fear, 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


95 


Because  it  fears  not  change ; enter  thou  in, 

Flower  of  all  sweet  and  stainless  womanhood  ! 

For  ever  to  grow  bright,  for  ever  new ; 

Enter  beneath  the  flowers,  0 flower-fair ! 

Beneath  these  tendrils,  Loveliest!  that  entwine 
And  clasp,  and  wreathe  and  cling,  with  kissing  stems  5 

Enter,  with  tender-blowing  airs  of  heaven, 

Soft  as  love’s  breath  and  gentle  as  the  tones 
Of  lover’s  whispers,  when  the  lips  come  close : 

Enter  the  house  of  Love,  0 loveliest  1 
Enter  the  marriage-bower,  most  beautiful ! 

And  take  and  give  the  joy  that  Hari  grants. 

Thy  heart  has  entered,  let  thy  feet  go  too  ! 

Lo,  Krishna ! lo,  the  one  that  thirsts  for  thee ! 

Give  him  the  drink  of  amrit  from  thy  lips. 

Then  she,  no  more  delaying,  entered  straight ; 

Her  step  a little  faltered,  but  her  face 
Shone  with  unutterable  quick  love ; and — while 


96 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 


Tlie  music  of  her  bangles  passed  the  porch — 
Shame,  which  had  lingered  in  her  downcast  eyes, 
Departed  shamed*  . . . and  like  the  mighty  deep, 
AVhich  sees  the  moon  and  rises,  all  his  life 
Uprose  to  drink  her  beams. 


{Here  ends  that  Sarga  of  the  Gita  Govinda  entitled 
Eadhikamilane  Sanandadamodaro.) 


Hari  keep  you ! He  whose  might, 

On  the  King  of  Serpents  seated. 

Flashes  forth  in  dazzling  light 

From  the  Great  Snake’s  gems  repeated  : 
Hari  keep  you ! He  whose  graces, 
Manifold  in  majesty, — 

Multiplied  in  heavenly  places — 

Multiply  on  earth — to  see 


* This  complete  anticipation  {salajjd  lajjdpi)  of  the  line — 

“ Upon  whoso  brow  shamo  is  ashamed  to  sit"  ' 

— occurs  at  the  close  of  the  Sarga,  part  of  which  is  here  perforce 
omitted,  along  with  the  whole  of  the  last  one. 


THE  INDIAN  SONG  OF  SONGS. 

Better  with  a hundred  eyes 

Her  bright  charms  who  by  him  lies. 


JVhat  skill  may  he  in  singing, 

What  worship  sound  in  song, 
JVhat  lore  he  taught  in  loving. 

What  right  divined  from  v/rong: 
Such  things  hath  Jayadeva — 

In  this  his  Hymn  of  Love, 

Which  lauds  Govinda  ever, — 
Displayed  ; may  all  approve  ! 


THE  EXD  OF  THE  INDIAN  SOXG  OF  SONGS. 


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MISCELLANEOUS  ORIENTAL  POEMS. 


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( IO>  ) 


THE  RAJPOOT  WIFE. 


Sing  something,  Jymul  Eao ! for  the  goats  are  gathered 
now. 

And  no  more  water  is  to  bring ; 

The  village-gates  are  set,  and  the  night  is  gray  as  yet, 
God  hath  given  wondrous  fancies  to  thee : — sing ! 

Then  Jymul’s  supple  fingers,  with  a touch  that  doubts 
and  lingers. 

Sets  athrill  the  saddest  wire  of  all  the  six ; 

And  the  girls  sit  in  a tangle,  and  hush  the  tinkling  bangle, 
While  the  boys  pile  the  flame  with  store  of  sticks. 

And  vain  of  village  praise,  but  full  of  ancient  days. 

He  begins  with  a smile  and  with  a sigh — 

" ^Vho  knows  the  babul-tree  by  the  bend  of  the  Eavee  ? ’ 
Quoth  Gunesh,  “ I ! ” and  twenty  voices,  “ I ! ” 


102 


THE  RAJPOOT  WIFE. 


“ Well — listen  ! there  below,  in  the  shade  of  bloom  and 
bough, 

Is  a musjid  of  carved  and  coloured  stone ; 

And  Abdool  Shureef  Khan — I spit,  to  name  that  man! — 
Lieth  there,  underneath,  all  alone. 

“ He  was  Sultan  Mahmood’s  vassal,  and  wore  an  Amir’s 
tassel 

In  his  green  hadj-turban,  at  Nungul. 

Yet  the  head  which  went  so  proud,  it  is  not  in  his  shcoud; 
There  are  bones  in  that  grave, — but  not  a skull ! 

“ And,  deep  drove  in  his  breast,  there  moulders  with  the 
rest 

A dagger,  brighter  once  than  Chundra’s  ray ; 

A Itajpoot  lohar  whet  it,  and  a Eajpoot  woman  set  it 
Past  the  power  of  any  hand  to  tear  away. 

“’Twas  the  Eanee  Neila  true,  the  wife  of  Soorj  Dehu, 
Lord  of  the  Eajpoots  of  Nourpoor; 

You  shall  hear  the  mournful  story,  with  its  sorrow  and 
its  glory. 

And  curse  Shureef  Khan, — the  soor  1 ” 


THE  RAJPOOT  WIFE.  103 

All  in  the  wide  Five-Waters  was  none  like  Soorj  Doliu, 

To  foeman  who  so  dreadful,  to  friend  what  heart  so  true? 

Like  Indus,  through  the  mountains  came  down  the 
Muslim  ranks, 

And  town-walls  fell  before  them  as  flooded  river-banks; 

But  Soorj  Dehu  the  Eajpoot  owned  neither  town  nor 
wall ; 

Ilis  house  the  camp,  his  roof-tree  the  sky  that  covers  all ; 

His  seat  of  state  the  saddle;  his  robe  a shirt  of  mail ; 

His  court  a thousand  Eajpoots  close  at  his  stallion’s  tail. 

Not  less  was  Soorj  a Eajah  because  no  crown  he  wore 

Save  the  grim  helm  of  iron  with  sword-marks  dinted 
o’er ; 

Because  he  grasped  no  sceptre  save  the  sharp  tulwar, 
made 

Of  steel  that  fell  from  heaven, — for  ’twas  Indra  forged 


that  blade ! 


104  THE  RAJPOOT  WIFE. 

And  many  a starless  midnight  the  shout  of  “ Soorj  Dehu  ” 

Broke  up  with  spear  and  matchlock  the  Muslim’s 
“Illahu.” 

And  many  a day  of  battle  upon  the  ^luslim  proud 

Fell  Soorj,  as  Indra’s  lightning  falls  from  the  silent  cloud. 

Nor  ever  shot  nor  arrow,  nor  spear  nor  shnger’s  stone, 

Could  pierce  the  mail  that  Neila  the  Eanee  buckled  on : 

But  traitor’s  subtle  tongue-thrust  through  fence  of  steel 
can  break ; 

And  Soorj  was  taken  sleeping,  whom  none  had  ta’en 
awake. 

Then  at  the  noon,  in  durbar,  swore  fiercely  Shureef  Klian 

That  Soorj  should  die  in  torment,  or  live  a Mussulman. 

But  Soorj  laughed  lightly  at  him,  and  answered,  “Work 
your  will ! 

The  last  breath  of  my  body  shall  curse  your  Prophet  still.” 

With  words  of  insult  shameful,  and  deeds  of  cruel  kind. 

They  vexed  that  Piajpoot’s  body,  but  never  moved  his 
mind. 


THE  RAJPOOT  WIFE.  loj 

And  one  is  come  who  sayeth,  “ Ho ! Rajpoots ! Soorj  is 
bound ; 

Your  lord  is  caged  and  baited  by  Sliureef  Khan,  the 
hound. 

“ The  Khan  hath  caught  and  chained  him,  like  a beast, 
in  iron  cage, 

And  all  the  camp  of  Islam  spends  on  him  spite  and 
rage ; > 


“ All  day  the  coward  ^luslims  spend  on  him  rage  and 
spite ; 

If  ye  have  thought  to  help  him,  ’twere  good  ye  go  to- 
night.” 

Up  sprang  a hundred  horsemen,  flashed  in  each  hand  a 
sword ; 

In  each  heart  burned  the  gladness  of  dying  for  their 
lord; 

Up  rose  each  Rajpoot  rider,  and  buckled  on  with  speed 

The  bridle-chain  and  breast-cord,  and  the  saddle  of  his 
steed. 


io6  THE  RAJPOOT  WIFE. 

But  unto  none  sad  Neila  gave  word  to  mount  and  ride ; 

Only  she  called  the  brothers  of  Soorj  unto  her  side, 

And  said,  “ Take  order  straightway  to  seek  this  camp 
with  me ; 

If  love  and  craft  can  conquer,  a thousand  is  as  three. 

“If  love  be  weak  to  save  him,  Soorj  dies — and  ye 
return. 

For  where  a Eajpoot  dieth,  the  Eajpoot  widows  burn.” 

Thereat  the  Eanee  Neila  unhraided  from  her  hair 

The  pearls  as  great  as  Kashmir  grapes  Soorj  gave  his 
wife  to  wear, 

And  all  across  her  bosoms — like  lotus-buds  to  see — 

She  wrapped  the  tinselled  sari  of  a dancing  Kunchenee; 

And  fastened  on  her  ankles  the  hundred  silver  bells. 

To  whose  light  laugh  of  music  the  Nautch-girl  darts  and 
dwells. 

And  all  in  dress  a Nautch-girl,  but  all  in  heart  a queen. 

She  set  her  foot  to  stirrup  with  a sad  and  settled  mien. 


THE  RAJPOOT  WIFE.  107 

Only  one  thing  she  carried  no  Kunchenee  should  bear, 
The  knife  between  her  bosoms  ; — ho,  Shureef ! have  a 
care ! 

Thereat,  with  running  ditty  of  mingled  pride  and  pity, 
Jymul  Kao  makes  the  six  wires  sigh ; 

And  the  girls  with  tearful  eyes  note  the  music’s  fall 
and  rise. 

And  the  hoys  let  the  fire  fade  and  die. 


All  day  lay  Soorj  the  Eajpoot  in  Shureef’s  iron  cage. 

All  day  the  coward  Muslims  spent  on  him  spite  and 
rage. 

With  bitter  cruel  torments,  and  deeds  of  shameful  kind. 

They  racked  and  broke  his  body,  but  could  not  shake 
his  mind. 

And  only  at  the  Azan,  when  all  their  worst  was  vain. 

They  left  him,  like  dogs  slinking  from  a lion  in  his  pain. 

No  meat  nor  drink  they  gave  him  through  all  that 
burning  day. 

And  done  to  death,  but  scornful,  at  twilight- time  he  lay. 


io8 


THE  RAJPOOT  WIFE. 


So  when  the  gem  of  Shiva  uprose,  the  shining  moon, 

Soorj  spake  unto  his  spirit,  “ The  end  is  coming  soon. 

“ I would  the  end  might  hasten,  could  Neila  only  know — 

"\Miat  is  that  Nautch-girl  singing  with  voice  so  known 
and  low  ? 

“ Singing  beneath  the  cage-bars  the  song  of  love  and  fear 

My  Neila  sang  at  parting ! — what  doth  that  Nautch-girl 
here? 

"Whence  comes  she  by  the  music  of  Neila’s  tender 
strain, 

She,  in  that  shameless  tinsel  ? — 0 Nautch-girl,  sing 
again ! ” 


“ Ah,  Soorj  ! ” — so  followed  answer — “ here  thine  own 
Neila  stands, 

Faithful  in  life  and  death  alike, — look  up,  and  take  my 
hands : 

“ Speak  low,  lest  the  guard  hear  us ; — to-night,  if  thou 
must  die, 

Shureef  shall  have  no  triumph,  but  bear  thee  company.” 


THE  RAJPOOT  WIFE. 


109 


So  sansj  she  like  the  Koil  that  dies  beside  its  mate  ; 
With  eye  as  black  and  fearless,  and  love  as  hot  and  great. 

Then  the  Chief  laid  his  pale  lips  upon  the  little  palm, 
And  sank  down  with  a smile  of  love,  his  face  all  glad 
and  calm ; 

And  through  the  cage-bars  Neila  felt  the  brave  heart 

O O 

stop  fast, 

“0  Soorj!” — she  cried — “I  follow!  have  patience  to 
the  last.” 

She  turned  and  went.  “ Who  passes?  ” challenged  the 
Mussulman ; 

“A  Nautch-girl,  I.” — “What  seek’st  thou?” — “The 
presence  of  the  Khan ; 

“ Ask  if  the  high  chief-captain  be  pleased  to  hear  me 
sing;” 

And  Shureef,  full  of  feasting,  the  Kunchenee  bade  bring. 

Then,  all  before  the  IMuslims,  aflame  with  lawless  wine. 
Entered  the  Eanee  Neila,  in  grace  and  face  divine ; 


no  THE  RAJPOOT  WIFE. 

And  all  before  the  Muslims,  wagging  their  goatish  chins, 
The  Eajpoot  Princess  set  her  to  the  “bee-dance”  that 
begins, 

“ If  my  love  loved  me,  he  should  he  a hee, 

I the  yellow  chamjpak,  love  the  honey  of  me." 

All  the  wreathed  movements  danced  she  of  that  dance ; 
Not  a step  she  slighted,  not  a wanton  glance ; 

In  her  unveiled  bosom  chased  th’  intruding  bee. 

To  her  waist — and  lower — she ! a Eajpoot,  she ! 

Sang  the  melting  music,  swayed  the  languorous  limb : 
Shureef’s  drunken  heart  beat — Shureef’s  eyes  waxed 
dim. 

Prom  his  finger  Shureef  loosed  an  Ormuz  pearl — 

“ By  the  Prophet,”  quoth  he,  “ ’tis  a winsome  girl ! 

“ Take  this  ring ; and  ’prithee,  come  and  have  thy  pay, 
I would  hear  at  leisure  more  of  sucli  a lay.” 

Glared  his  eyes  on  her  eyes,  passing  o’er  the  plain, 
Glared  at  the  tent-purdah — never  glared  again ! 


Ill 


THE  RAJPOOT  WIFE. 

Never  opened  after  unto  gaze  or  glance, 

Eyes  that  saw  a Eajpoot  dance  a shameful  dance ; 

For  the  kiss  she  gave  him  was  his  first  and  last — 

Kiss  of  dagger,  driven  to  his  heart,  and  past. 

At  her  feet  he  wallowed,  choked  with  wicked  blood ; 

In  his  breast  the  katar  quivered  where  it  stood. 

At  the  hilt  his  fingers  vainly — wildly — try. 

Then  they  stiffen  feeble  ; — die ! thou  slayer,  die ! 

From  his  jewelled  scabbard  drew  she  Shureef’s  sword, 
Cut  atwain  the  neck-bone  of  the  Muslim  lord. 

Underneath  the  starlight, — sooth,  a sight  of  dread ! 

Like  the  Goddess  Kali,  comes  she  with  the  head. 

Comes  to  where  her  brothers  guard  their  murdered  chief; 
All  the  camp  is  silent,  but  the  night  is  brief. 

At  his  feet  she  flings  it,  flings  her  burden  vile ; 

“ Soorj  ! I keep  my  promise ! Brothers,  build  the  pile ! ” 


112 


THE  RAJPOOT  WIFE. 


They  have  built  it,  set  it,  all  as  Eajpoots  do, 

From  the  cage  of  iron  taken  Soorj  Dehu ; 

In  the  lap  of  Neila,  seated  on  the  pile. 

Laid  his  head — she  radiant,  like  a queen  the  while. 

Then  the  lamp  is  lighted,  and  the  ghee  is  poured — 

“ Soorj,  we  burn  together : 0 my  love,  my  lord ! ” 

In  the  flame  and  crackle  dies  her  tender  tongue. 

Dies  the  Kanee,  truest,  all  true  wives  among. 

At  the  morn  a clamour  runs  from  tent  to  tent, 

Like  the  wild  geese  cackling  when  the  night  is  spent. 

“ Shureef  Khan  lies  headless  ! gone  is  Soorj  Dehu  ! 

And  the  wandering  Nautch-girl,  who  has  seen  her,  who  ?” 

This  but  know  the  sentries,  at  the  “ breath  of  dawn  ” 
Forth  there  fared  two  horsemen,  by  the  first  was  borne 

The  urn  of  clay,  the  vessel  that  Eajpoots  use  to  bring 
The  ashes  of  dead  kinsmen  to  Gungas’  holy  spring. 


( 113  ) 


KJNG  SALADIN. 


Long  years  ago — so  tells  Boccaccio 
In  such  Italian  gentleness  of  speech 
As  finds  no  echo  in  this  northern  air 
To  counterpart  its  music — long  ago, 

When  Saladin  was  Soldan  of  the  East, 

The  kings  let  cry  a general  crusade ; 

And  to  the  trystiug-plains  of  Lombardy 
The  idle  lances  of  the  North  and  West 
Bode  all  that  spring,  as  aU  the  spring  runs  down 
Into  a lake,  from  all  its  hanging  hills. 

The  clash  and  glitter  of  a hundred  streams. 

Whereof  the  rumour  reached  to  Saladin  ; 

And  that  swart  king — as  royal  in  his  heart 
As  any  crowned  champion  of  the  Cross — 

That  he  might  fuUy,  of  his  knowledge,  learn 
The  purpose  of  the  lords  of  Christendom, 


II 


KING  SALADIN. 


And  when  their  war  and  what  their  armament, 
Took  thought  to  cross  the  seas  to  Lombardy. 
"Wherefore,  with  wise  and  trustful  Amirs  twain, 
AU  habited  in  garbs  that  merchants  use, 

With  trader’s  band  and  gipsire  on  the  breasts 
That  best  loved  mail  and  dagger,  Saladin 
Set  forth  upon  his  journey  perilous. 

In  that  day,  lordly  land  was  Lombardy  ! 

A sea  of  country-plenty,  islanded 
With  cities  rich ; nor  richer  one  than  thee. 

Marble  Milano ! from  whose  gate  at  dawn— 

With  ear  that  little  recked  the  matin-bell. 

But  a keen  eye  to  measure  wall  and  foss — 

The  Soldan  rode ; and  all  day  long  he  rode 
For  Pavia ; passing  basilic,  and  shrine. 

And  gaze  of  vineyard-workers,  wotting  not 
Yon  trader  was  the  Lord  of  Heathenesse. 

All  day  he  rode ; yet  at  the  wane  of  day 
Xo  gleam  of  gate,  or  ramp,  or  rising  spire, 

Xor  Tessin’s  sparkle  underneath  the  stars 
Promised  him  Pavia ; but  he  was  ’ware 
Of  a gay  company  upon  the  way. 

Ladies  and  lords,  with  horses,  hawks,  and  hounds ; 


KING  SALADIN. 


i>5 

Cap-plumes  aud  tresses  fluttered  by  tbe  wind 
Of  merry  race  for  home.  “ Go  ! ” said  the  king 
To  one  that  rode  upon  his  better  hand, 

“ And  pray  these  gentles  of  their  courtesy 
How  many  leagues  to  Pavia,  and  the  gates 
"What  hour  they  close  them  ? ” Then  the  Saracen 
Set  spur,  and  being  joined  to  him  that  seemed 
First  of  the  hunt,  he  told  the  message — they 
Checking  the  jangling  bits,  and  chiding  down 
The  unfinished  laugh  to  listen — but  by  this 
Came  up  the  king,  his  bonnet  in  his  hand, 

Tlieirs  doffed  to  him : “ Sir  Trader,”  Torel  said 
(Messer  ToreUo  ’twas,  of  Istria), 

“ They  shut  the  Pavian  gate  at  even-song. 

And  even-song  is  sung.”  Then  turning  half. 
Muttered,  “ Pardie,  the  man  is  worshipful, 

A stranger  too  !”  “Fair  lord!”  quoth  Saladin, 

“ Please  you  to  stead  some  weary  travellers. 
Saying  where  we  may  lodge,  the  town  so  far 
And  night  so  near.”  “ Of  my  heart,  willingly,” 
Made  answer  Torel,  “ I did  think  but  now 
To  send  my  knave  an  errand — he  shall  ride 
And  bring  you  into  lodgment — oh ! no  thanks. 


KING  SALADIN. 


1 16 

Our  Lady  keep  you !”  then  with  whispered  best 
He  called  their  guide  and  sped  them.  Being  gone, 
Torello  told  his  purpose,  and  the  hand, 

With  ready  zeal  and  loosened  bridle-chains, 
liode  for  his  hunting-palace,  where  they  set 
A goodly  banquet  underneath  the  planes, 

And  hung  the  house  with  guest-lights,  and  anon 
Welcomed  the  wondering  strangers,  thereto  led 
Unwitting,  by  a world  of  winding  paths; 

Messer  Torello,  at  the  inner  gate. 

Waiting  to  take  them  in — a goodly  host. 

Stamped  current  with  God’s  image  for  a man 
Chief  among  men,  truthful,  and  just,  and  free. 

Then  he,  “Well  met  again,  fair  sirs!  Our  knave 
Hath  found  you  shelter  better  than  the  worst : 

Please  you  to  leave  your  selles,  and  being  bathed, 
Grace  our  poor  supper  here.”  Then  Saladin, 

Whose  sword  had  yielded  ere  his  courtesy. 
Answered,  “ Great  thanks.  Sir  Knight,  and  this  much 
blame. 

You  spoil  us  for  our  trade ! two  bonnets  doffed. 

And  travellers’  questions  holding  you  afield. 

For  those  you  give  us  this.”  “ Sir  1 not  your  meed. 


KING  SALADIN. 


117 


Xor  worthy  of  your  breeding  ; but  in  sooth 
That  is  not  out  of  Pavia.”  Thereupon 
He  led  them  to  fair  chambers  decked  with  all 
flakes  tired  men  glad ; lights,  and  the  marble  bath, 
And  flasks  that  sparkled,  liquid  amethyst. 

And  grapes,  not  dry  as  yet  from  evening  dew. 

Thereafter  at  the  supper-board  they  sat ; 

Nor  lacked  it,  though  its  guest  was  reared  a king. 
Worthy  provend  in  crafts  of  cookery, 

Pastel,  pasticcio — all  set  forth  on  gold ; 

And  gracious  talk  and  pleasant  courtesies. 

Spoken  in  stately  Latin,  cheated  time 
Till  there  was  none  but  held  the  stranger-sir. 

For  all  his  chapman’s  dress  of  cramasie. 

Goodlier  than  silks  could  make  him.  Presently 
Talk  rose  upon  the  Holy  Sepulchre : 

“ I go  myself,”  said  Torel,  “ with  a score 
Of  better  knights — the  flower  of  Pavia — 

To  try  our  steel  against  King  Saladin’s. 

Sirs ! ye  have  seen  the  countries  of  the  Sun, 

Know  you  the  Soldan  ? ” Answer  gave  the  king, 

“ The  Soldan  we  have  seen — ’twill  push  him  hard 
If,  which  I nothing  doubt,  you  Pavian  lords 


ii8 


KING  SAL  A DIN. 


Are  valorous  as  gentle ; — we,  alas  ! 

Are  Cyprus  merchants  making  trade  to  France — 
Dull  sons  of  Peace.”  “ By  Mary ! ” Torel  cried, 

“ But  for  thy  word,  I ne’er  heard  speech  so  fit 
To  lead  the  war,  nor  saw  a hand  that  sat 
Biker  a soldier’s  in  the  sabre’s  place ; 

But  sure  I hold  you  sleepless!”  Then  himself 
Playing  the  chamberlain,  with  torches  borne. 

Led  them  to  restful  beds,  commending  them 
To  sleep  and  God,  Who  hears — Allah  or  God — 
When  good  men  do  his  creatures  charities. 

At  dawn  the  cock,  and  neigh  of  saddled  steeds, 
Broke  the  king’s  dreams  of  battle — not  their  own. 
But  goodly  jennets  from  Torello’s  stalls, 
Caparisoned  to  hear  them ; he  their  host 
Up,  with  a gracious  radiance  like  the  sun. 

To  bid  them  speed.  Beside  him  in  the  court 
Stood  Dame  Adalieta ; comely  she. 

And  of  her  port  as  queenly,  and  serene 
As  if  the  braided  gold  about  her  brows 
Had  been  a crown.  Mutual  good-morrow  given. 
Thanks  said  and  stayed,  the  lady  prayed  her  guest 
To  take  a token  of  his  sojourn  there, 


KING  SALADIN. 


119 


^Mat-king  her  good-will,  not  liis  worthiness ; 

“ A sown  of  miniver — these  furbelows 
Are  silk  I spun — my  lord  wears  ever  such — 

A housewife’s  gift ! but  those  ye  love  are  far; 

Wear  it  as  given  for  them.”  Then  Saladin — 

“ A precious  gift,  IMadonna,  past  my  thanks ; 

And — but  thou  shalt  not  hear  a ‘ no  ’ from  me — 

Past  my  receiving ; yet  I take  it ; we 
Were  debtors  to  your  noble  courtesy 
Out  of  redemption — this  but  bankrupts  us.” 

“ Nay,  sir, — God  shield  you  ! ” said  the  knight  and  dame. 
And  Saladin,  with  phrase  of  gentilesse 
Eeturned,  or  ever  that  he  rode  alone. 

Swore  a great  oath  in  guttural  Arabic, 

An  oath  by  Allah — startling  up  the  ears 
Of  those  three  Christian  cattle  they  bestrode — 

That  never  yet  was  princelier-natured  man. 

Nor  gentler  lady ; — and  that  time  should  see 
For  a king’s  lodging  quittance  royal  repaid. 


It  was  the  day  of  the  Passaggio : 

Ashore  the  war-steeds  champed  the  burnished  bit ; 


120 


KING  SALADIN. 


Afloat  the  galleys  tugged  the  mooring-chain  : 

The  town  was  out ; the  Lombard  armourers — 

Eed-hot  with  riveting  the  helmets  up, 

And  whetting  axes  for  the  heathen  heads — 

Cooled  in  the  crowd  that  filled  the  squares  and  streets 
To  speed  God’s  soldiers.  At  the  none  that  day 
^Messer  Torello  to  the  gate  came  down, 

Leading  his  lady ; — sorrow’s  hueless  rose 
Grew  on  her  cheek,  and  thrice  the  destrier 
Struck  fire,  impatient,  from  the  pavement-squares, 

Or  ere  she  spoke,  tears  in  her  lifted  eyes, 

“ Goest  thou,  lord  of  mine  ? ” “ Madonna,  yes ! ” 

Said  Torel,  “ for  my  soul’s  weal  and  the  Lord 
Hide  I to-day : my  good  name  and  my  house 
Eeliant  I intrust  thee,  and — because 
It  may  be  they  shall  slay  me,  and  because, 

Being  so  young,  so  fair,  and  so  reputed. 

The  noblest  will  entreat  thee — wait  for  me. 

Widow  or  wife,  a year,  and  month,  and  day ; 

Then  if  thy  kinsmen  press  thee  to  a choice, 

And  if  I be  not  come,  hold  me  for  dead ; 

Nor  link  thy  blooming  beauty  with  the  grave 
Against  thine  heart.”  “ Good  my  lord ! ” answered  she. 


KL\G  SALADIN. 


121 


“ Hardly  my  heart  sustains  to  let  thee  go ; 

Thy  memory  it  can  keep,  and  keep  it  will, 

Though  my  one  lord,  Torel  of  Istria, 

Live,  or ” “Sweet,  comfort  thee!  San  Pietro 

speed  1 

I shall  come  home : if  not,  and  worthy  knees 
Bend  for  this  hand,  whereof  none  worthy  lives, 

Least  he  who  lays  his  last  kiss  thus  upon  it. 

Look  thee,  I free  it ” “ Nay  ! ” she  said,  “ but  I, 

A petulant  slave  that  hugs  her  golden  chain. 

Give  that  gift  back,  and  with  it  this  poor  ring: 

Set  it  upon  thy  sword-hand,  and  in  fight 
Be  merciful  and  win,  thinking  of  me.” 

Then  she,  with  pretty  action,  drawing  on 
Her  ruby,  buckled  over  it  his  glove — 

The  great  steel  glove — and  through  the  helmet  bars 
Took  her  last  kiss ; — then  let  the  chafing  steed 
Have  its  hot  will  and  go. 

But  Saladin, 

Safe  back  among  his  lords  at  Lebanon, 

Well  wotting  of  their  quest,  awaited  it. 

And  held  the  Crescent  up  against  the  Cross. 

Tu  many  a doughty  fight  Ferrara  blades 


122 


KING  S ALA  DIN. 


Clashed  with  keen  Damasc,  many  a weary  month 
AVasted  afield ; but  yet  the  Christians 
AVon  nothing  nearer  to  Christ’s  sepulchre; 

Nay,  but  gave  ground.  At  last,  in  Acre  pent. 

On  their  loose  files,  enfeebled  by  the  war. 

Came  stronger  smiter  than  the  Saracen — 

The  deadly  Pest : day  after  day  they  died, 
Pikeman  and  knight-at-arms  ; day  after  day 
A thinner  line  upon  the  leaguered  wall 
Held  off  the  heathen : — held  them  off  a space ; 
Then,  over-weakened,  yielded,  and  gave  up 
The  city  and  the  stricken  garrison. 

So  to  sad  chains  and  hateful  servitude 
Fell  all  those  purple  lords — Christendom’s  stars, 
Once  high  in  hope  as  soaring  Lucifer, 

Now  low  as  sinking  Hesper:  with  them  fell 
Messer  Torello — never  one  so  poor 
Of  all  the  hundreds  that  his  bounty  fed 
As  he  in  prison — ill-entreated,  bound, 

Starved  of  sweet  light,  and  set  to  shameful  tasks ; 
And  that  great  load  at  heart  to  know  the  days 
Fast  flying,  and  to  live  accounted  dead. 

One  joy  his  gaolers  left  him, — his  good  liawk ; 


KING  SALADIN. 


123 


The  brave,  gay  bird  that  crossed  the  seas  with  him : 
And  often,  in  the  mindful  hour  of  eve. 

With  tameless  eye  and  spirit  masterful, 

111  a feigned  anger  checking  at  his  hand. 

The  good  gray  falcon  made  his  master  cheer. 

One  day  it  chanced  Saladin  rode  afield 

With  shawled  and  turbaned  Amirs,  and  his  hawks — 

Lebanon-bred,  and  mewed  as  princes  lodge — 

Flew  foul,  forgot  their  feather,  hung  at  wrist. 

And  slighted  call.  The  Soldan,  quick  in  wrath. 
Bade  slay  the  cravens,  scourge  the  falconer. 

And  seek  some  wight  who  knew  the  heart  of  hawks. 
To  keep  it  hot  and  true.  Then  spake  a Sheikh — 

“ There  is  a Frank  in  prison  by  the  sea. 

Far-seen  herein.”  “ Give  word  that  he  be  brought,” 
Quoth  Saladin,  “ and  bid  him  set  a cast : 

If  he  hath  skill,  it  shall  go  well  for  him.” 

Thus  by  the  winding  path  of  circumstance 
One  palace  held,  as  prisoner  and  prince, 

Torello  and  his  guest : unwitting  each, 

Isay  and  unwitting,  though  they  met  and  spake 


124 


KING  SAL  A DIN. 


Of  that  goshawk  and  this — signors  in  serge, 

And  chapmen  crowned,  who  knows  ? — till  on  a time 
Some  trick  of  face,  the  manner  of  some  smile. 

Some  gleam  of  sunset  from  the  glad  day  gone. 

Caught  the  king’s  eye,  and  held  it.  “Xazarene ! 

"V^Qiat  native  art  thou  ? ” asked  he.  “ Lombard  I, 

A man  of  Pavia.”  “ And  thy  name  ? ” “ Torel, 

Messer  Torello  called  in  happier  times. 

Now  best  uncalled.”  “ Come  hither,  Christian  1 ” 

The  Soldan  said,  and  led  the  way,  by  court 
And  hall  and  fountain,  to  an  inner  room 
Pdch  with  king’s  robes : therefrom  he  reached  a gown. 
And  “ Know’st  thou  this  ? ” he  asked.  “ High  lord  ! I 
might 

Elsewhere,”  quoth  Torel,  “ here  ’twere  mad  to  say 
Yon  gown  my  wife  unto  a trader  gave 
Who  shared  our  board.”  “ Nay,  but  that  gown  is  this. 
And  she  the  giver,  and  the  trader  I,” 

(Juoth  Saladin ; “ I ! twice  a king  to-day. 

Owing  a royal  debt  and  paying  it.” 

Then  Torel,  sore  amazed,  “ Great  lord,  I blush, 
Pemembering  how  the  Master  of  the  East 
r^odged  sorrily.”  “ It’s  Master’s  Master  thou ! ” 


KING  SALADIN. 


I 


Gave  answer  Saladin,  “ come  in  and  see 
What  wares  the  Cyprus  traders  keep  at  home ; 
Come  forth  and  take  thy  place,  Saladin’s  friend.” 
Tlierewith  into  the  circle  of  his  lords, 

With  gracious  mien  the  Soldan  led  his  slave ; 

And  while  the  dark  eyes  glittered,  seated  him 
First  of  the  full  divan.  “ Orient  lords,” 

So  spake  he, — “ let  the  one  who  loves  his  king 
Honour  this  Frank,  whose  house  sheltered  your  kin 
He  is  my  brother ; ” then  the  night-black  beards 
Swept  the  stone  floor  in  ready  reverence, 

Agas  and  Amirs  welcoming  Torel : 

And  a great  feast  was  set,  the  Soldan’s  friend 
Eoyally  garbed,  upon  the  Soldan’s  hand. 

Shining  the  bright  star  of  the  banqueters. 


All  which,  and  the  abounding  grace  and  love 
Shown  him  by  Saladin,  a little  held 
The  heart  of  Torel  from  its  Lombard  home 
With  Dame  Adalieta : but  it  chanced 
He  sat  beside  the  king  in  audience, 

And  there  came  one  who  said,  “ Oh,  Lord  of  lords. 


126 


KING  SALADIN. 


That  galley  of  the  Genovese  which  sailed 
With  Frankish  prisoners  is  gone  down  at  sea.” 

“ Gone  down ! ” cried  Torel.  “ Ay ! what  recks  it, 
friend, 

To  fall  thy  visage  for  ? ” quoth  Saladin  ; 

“ One  galley  less  to  ship-stuffed  Genoa ! ” 

“ Good  my  liege ! Torel  said,  “ it  bore  a scroll 
Inscribed  to  Pavia,  saying  that  I lived ; 

For  in  a year,  a month,  and  day,  not  come, 

I bade  them  hold  me  dead ; and  dead  I am, 

Albeit  living,  if  my  lady  wed. 

Perchance  constrained.”  “ Certes,”  spake  Saladin, 

“ A noble  dame — the  like  not  won,  once  lost — 

How  many  days  remain  ? ” “ Ten  days,  my  prince, 

And  twelvescore  leagues  between  my  heart  and  me ; 
Alas  ! how  to  be  passed  ? ” Then  Saladin — 

“ Lo ! I am  loath  to  lose  thee — wilt  thou  swear 
To  come  again  if  all  go  well  with  thee. 

Or  come  ill  speeding?”  “Yea,  I swear,  my  king, 
Out  of  true  love,”  quoth  Torel,  “ heartfully.” 

Then  Saladin,  “ Take  here  my  signet-seal ; 

IMy  admiral  will  loose  his  swiftest  soil 
Upon  its  sight;  and  cleave  the  seas,  and  go 


KING  SALADIN. 


127 


Aud  clip  thy  dame,  and  say  the  Trader  sends 
A gift,  remindful  of  her  courtesies.” 

Passed  were  the  year,  and  month,  and  day  ; and  passed 
Out  of  all  hearts  but  one  Sir  Torel’s  name, 

Long  given  for  dead  by  ransomed  Pavians : 

For  Pavia,  thoughtless  of  her  Eastern  graves, 

A lovely  widow,  much  too  gay  for  grief. 

Made  peals  from  half  a hundred  campaniles 
To  ring  a wedding  in.  The  seven  bells 
Of  Santo  Pietro,  from  the  nones  to  noon. 

Boomed  with  bronze  throats  the  happy  tidings  out ; 

Till  the  great  tenor,  overswelled  with  sound. 

Cracked  itself  dumb.  Thereat  the  sacristan. 

Leading  his  swinkM  ringers  down  the  stairs. 

Came  blinking  into  sunlight — all  his  keys 
Jingling  their  little  peal  about  his  belt — 

Whom,  as  he  tarried,  locking  up  the  porch, 

A foreign  signor,  browned  with  southern  suns, 

Turbaned  and  sKppered,  as  the  Muslims  use, 

I’lucked  by  the  cope.  “Friend,”  quoth  he — 'twas  a 
tongue 

Italian  true,  but  in  a [Muslim  mouth — 

“ Why  are  your  belfries  busy — is  it  peace 


128 


KING  SALADIN. 


Or  victory,  that  so  ye  din  the  ears 
Of  Pavian  lieges  ? ” “ Truly,  no  liege  thou  ! ” 

Grunted  the  sacristan,  “ who  knowest  not 

That  Dame  Adalieta  weds  to-night 

Her  fore-betrothed, — Sir  Torel’s  widow  she, 

•That  died  i’  the  chain  ? ” “ To-night ! ” the  stranger  said. 

“ Ay,  sir,  to-night ! — why  not  to-night  ? — to-night ! 

And  you  shall  see  a goodly  Christian  feast 
If  so  you  pass  their  gates  at  even-song. 

For  all  are  asked.” 

Xo  more  the  questioner, 

But  folded  o'er  his  face  the  Eastern  hood, 

Lest  idle  eyes  should  mark  how  idle  words 

Had  struck  him  home.  “ So  quite  forgot ! — so  soon  ! — 

And  this  the  square  wherein  I gave  the  joust, 

And  that  the  loggia,  where  I fed  the  poor ; 

And  yon  my  palace,  where — oh,  fair ! oh,  false  ! — 

They  robe  her  for  a bridal.  Can  it  be  ? 

Clean  out  of  heart,  with  twice  six  flying  moons. 

The  heart  that  beat  on  mine  as  it  would  break. 

That  faltered  forty  oaths.  Forced ! forced ! — not  false — 
Well ! I will  sit,  wife,  at  thy  wedding- feast, 

And  let  mine  eyes  give  my  fond  faith  the  lie.” 


KING  SALADIN. 


129 


So  in  the  stream  of  gallant  guests  that  flowed 
Feastward  at  eve,  went  Torel ; passed  with  them 
The  outer  gates,  crossed  the  great  courts  with  them, 
A stranger  in  the  walls  that  called  him  lord. 

Cressets  and  coloured  lamps  made  the  way  bright, 
And  rose-leaves  strewed  to  where  within  the  doors 
The  master  of  the  feast,  the  bridegroom,  stood, 
A-glitter  from  his  forehead  to  his  foot, 

Speaking  fair  welcomes.  lie,  a courtly  lord, 
^Marking  the  Eastern  guest,  bespoke  him  sweet. 
Prayed  place  for  him,  and  bade  them  set  his  seat 
Upon  the  dais.  Then  the  feast  began. 

And  wine  went  free  as  wit,  and  music  died — 
Outdone  by  merrier  laughter : — only  one 
Xor  ate  nor  drank,  nor  spoke  nor  smiled ; but  gazed 
On  the  pale  bride,  pale  as  her  crown  of  pearls, 

Who  sate  so  cold  and  still,  and  sad  of  cheer. 

At  the  bride-feast. 

But  of  a truth,  Torel 

Bead  the  thoughts  right  that  held  her  eyelids  down. 
And  knew  her  loyal  to  her  memories. 

Then  to  a little  page  who  bore  the  wine. 

He  spake,  “ Go  tell  thy  lady  thus  from  me  : 

I 


130 


KING  SALADIN. 


In  mine  own  land,  if  any  stranger  sit 
A wedding-guest,  the  bride,  out  of  her  grace, 

In  token  that  she  knows  her  guest’s  good-will, 

In  token  she  repays  it,  brims  a cup. 

Wherefrom  he  drinking  she  in  turn  doth  drink ; 

So  is  our  use.”  The  little  page  made  speed 
And  told  the  message.  Then  that  lady  pale — 

Ever  a gentle  and  a courteous  heart — 

Lifted  her  troubled  eyes  and  smiled  consent 
On  the  swart  stranger.  By  her  side,  untouched. 

Stood  the  brimmed  gold;  “Bear  this,”  she  said,  “and  pray 
He  hold  a Christian  lady  apt  to  learn 
A kindly  lesson  ” But  Sir  Torel  loosed 
From  off  his  finger — never  loosed  before — 

The  ring  she  gave  him  on  the  parting  day ; 

And  ere  he  drank,  behind  his  veil  of  beard 
Dropped  in  the  cup  the  ruby,  quaffed,  and  sent. — 

Then  she,  with  sad  smile,  set  her  lips  to  drink. 

And — something  in  the  Cyprus  touching  them. 

Glanced — gazed — the  ring! — her  ring! — Jove!  how 
she  eyes 

The  wistful  eyes  of  Torel ! — how,  heartsure. 

Under  all  guise  knowing  her  lord  returned, 


KING  SALADIN. 


She  springs  to  meet  him  coming  ! — telling  all 
In  one  great  cry  of  joy. 

0 me ! the  rout, 

Tlie  storm  of  questions ! stilled,  when  Torel  spake 
His  name,  and,  known  of  all,  claimed  the  Bride  Wife, 
^laugre  the  wasted  feast,  and  woful  groom. 

All  hearts  but  his  were  light  to  see  Torel ; 

But  Adalieta’s  lightest,  as  she  plucked 
The  bridal-veil  away.  Something  therein — 

A lady’s  dagger — small,  and  bright,  and  fine — 
Clashed  out  upon  the  marble.  “ Wherefore  that  ? ” 
Asked  Torel ; answered  she,  “ I knew  you  true ; 

And  I could  live,  so  long  as  I might  wait ; 

But  they — they  pressed  me  hard ! my  days  of  grace 
Ended  to-night — and  I had  ended  too. 

Faithful  to  death,  if  so  thou  hadst  not  come.” 


( 132  ) 


THE  CALIPH'S  DRAUGHT. 


Upon  a day  in  Eamadan — 

When  sunset  brought  an  end  of  fast, 

And  in  his  station  every  man 

Prepared  to  share  the  glad  repast — 

Sate  Mohtasim  in  royal  state, 

The  pillaw  smoked  upon  the  gold ; 

The  fairest  slave  of  those  that  wait 
Mohtasim’s  jewelled  cup  did  hold. 

Of  crystal  carven  was  the  cup, 

With  turquoise  set  along  the  brim, 

A lid  of  amber  closed  it  up ; 

’Twas  a great  king  that  gave  it  him. 

The  slave  poured  sherbet  to  the  brink, 
Stirred  in  wild  honey  and  pomegranate, 
Witli  snow  and  rose-leaves  cooled  the  drink. 


And  bore  it  where  the  Caliph  sate. 


THE  CALIPH'S  DRAUGHT. 


133 


The  Caliph’s  mouth  was  dry  as  bone, 

He  swept  his  beard  aside  to  quaff : — 

The  news-reader  beneath  the  throne, 

AVent  droning  on  with  ghain  and  kaf. — 
The  Caliph  drew  a mighty  breath. 

Just  then  the  reader  read  a word — 

And  Mobtasim,  as  grim  as  death. 

Set  down  the  cup  and  snatched  his  sword. 


'‘Ann'  amratan  shureefatee  !” 

“ Speak  clear ! ” cries  angry  Mobtasim ; 
“ Fe  lasr  ind’  ilj  min  nlji” — 

Trembling  the  newsman  read  to  him 
How  in  Ammoria,  far  from  home. 

An  Arab  girl  of  noble  race 
A\'’as  captive  to  a lord  of  Eoum ; 

And  how  he  smote  her  on  the  face, 


And  how  she  cried,  for  life  afraid, 

“ Ya,  Mobtasim  ! help,  0 my  king ! ” 
And  how  the  Kafir  mocked  the  maid. 
And  laughed,  and  spake  a bitter  thing. 


134 


THE  CALIPH'S  DRAUGHT. 


“ Call  louder,  fool ! Mohtasim’s  ears 
Are  long  as  Barak’s — if  he  heed — 
Your  prophet’s  ass ; and  when  he  hears, 
He’ll  come  upon  a spotted  steed  ! ” 

The  Caliph’s  face  was  stern  and  red. 

He  snapped  the  lid  upon  the  cup ; 

“ Keep  this  same  sherbet,  slave,”  he  said, 
“ Till  such  time  as  I drink  it  up. 
Wallah  ! the  stream  my  drink  shall  be. 
My  hollowed  palm  my  only  bowl. 

Till  I have  set  that  lady  free, 

And  seen  that  Koumi  dog’s  head  roll.” 


At  dawn  the  drums  of  war  were  beat. 
Proclaiming,  “ Thus  saith  Mohtasim, 
‘ Let  all  my  valiant  horsemen  meet. 
And  every  soldier  bring  with  him 
A spotted  steed.’  ” So  rode  they  forth, 
A sight  of  marvel  and  of  fear ; 

Pied  horses  prancing  fiercely  north ; 
The  crystal  cup  home  in  the  rear ! 


THE  CALIPH'S  DRAUGHT. 


13 


When  to  Ammoria  he  did  win, 

He  smote  and  drove  the  dogs  of  Iloum, 
And  rode  his  spotted  stallion  in. 

Crying,  “ Lalibayki  ! I am  come  ! ” 

Then  downward  from  her  prison-place 
Joyful  the  Arab  lady  crept ; 

She  held  her  hair  before  her  face. 

She  kissed  his  feet,  she  laughed  and  wept. 


She  pointed  where  that  lord  was  laid : 

They  drew  him  forth,  he  whined  for  grace ; 
Then  w’ith  fierce  eyes  Mohtasim  said — 

“ She  whom  thou  smotest  on  the  face 
Had  scorn,  because  she  called  her  king : 

Lo ! he  is  come ! and  dost  thou  think 
To  live,  who  didst  this  bitter  thing 
While  ^lohtasim  at  peace  did  drink  ? ” 


Flashed  the  fierce  sword — rolled  the  lord’s  head ; 

The  wicked  blood  smoked  in  the  sand. 

“ Now  bring  my  cup ! ” the  Caliph  said. 

Lightly  he  took  it  in  his  hand. 


ij6  THE  CALIPH'S  DRAUGHT. 

As  down  his  throat  the  sweet  drink  ran 
Mohtasim  in  his  saddle  laughed, 

And  cried,  “ Taiha  asshrah  alan  ! 

By  God ! delicious  is  this  draught ! ” 


( 137  ) 


HINDOO  FUNERAL  SONG. 

Call  on  Eama  ! call  to  Kama ! 

Oh,  my  brothers,  call  on  Rama ! 

For  this  Dead 
Whom  we  bring, 

Call  aloud  to  mighty  Eama. 

As  we  bear  him,  oh,  my  brothers. 
Call  together,  very  loudly. 

That  the  Bhuts 
May  be  scared ; 

That  his  spirit  pass  in  comfort. 

Turn  his  feet  now,  calling  “ Eama,” 
Calling  “ Eama,”  who  shall  take  him 
When  the  flames 
Make  an  end : 


Earn ! Earn ! — oh,  call  to  Eama. 


( 138  ) 


\ 

SONG  OF  THE  SERPENT- 
CHARMERS. 

Come  forth,  oh,  Snake ! come  forth,  oh,  glittering  Snake ! 
Oh  shining,  lovely,  deadly  Nag ! appear, 

Dance  to  the  music  that  we  make. 

This  serpent-song,  so  sweet  and  clear. 

Blown  on  the  beaded  gourd,  so  clear. 

So  soft  and  clear. 

Oh,  dread  Lord  Snake  ! come  forth  and  spread  thy  hood, 
And  drink  the  milk  and  suck  the  eggs ; and  show 
Thy  tongue ; and  own  the  tune  is  good : 

Hear,  Maharaj  ! how  hard  we  blow  ! 

Ah,  Maharaj ! for  thee  we  blow ; 


See  how  we  blow  ! 


SONG  OF  THE  SERPENT-CHARMERS.  139 

Great  Uncle  Snake  ! creep  forth  and  dance  to-day  ! 
This  music  is  the  music  snakes  love  best ; 

Taste  the  warm  white  new  milk,  and  play 
Standing  erect,  with  fangs  at  rest. 

Dancing  on  end,  sharp  fangs  at  rest, 

Fierce  fangs  at  rest. 


Ah,  wise  Lord  Nag!  thou  comest! — Fear  thou  not! 
We  make  salaam  to  thee,  the  Serpent- King, 

Draw  forth  thy  folds,  knot  after  knot; 

Dance,  Master!  while  we  softly  sing; 

Dance,  Serpent ! while  we  play  and  sing. 

We  play  and  sing. 

Dance,  dreadful  King ! whose  kisses  strike  men  dead ; 
Dance  this  side,  mighty  Snake ! the  milk  is  here ! 

[They  seize  the  Cobra  by  the  neck.'\ 

Ah,  shabash  ! pin  his  angry  head ! 

Thou  fool ! this  nautch  shall  cost  thee  dear ; 
Wrench  forth  his  fangs ! this  piping  clear, 


It  costs  thee  dear ! 


( 140  ) 


SONG  OF  THE  FLOUR-MILL. 


Turn  the  merry  mill-stone,  Gunga ! 

Pour  the  golden  grain  in  ; 

Those  that  twist  the  Churrak  fastest 
The  cakes  soonest  win : 

Good  stones,  turn ! 

The  fire  begins  to  burn  ; 

Gunga,  stay  not ! 

The  hearth  is  nearly  hot. 

Grind  the  hard  gold  to  silver, 

Sing  quick  to  the  stone  ; 

Peed  its  mouth  with  dal  and  bajri, 

It  will  feed  us  anon. 

Sing,  Gunga  1 to  the  mill-stone, 

It  helps  the  wheel  hum ; 


SONG  OF  THE  FLOUR-MILL. 


14' 


lilithesome  hearts  and  willing  elbows 
Make  the  fine  meal  come : 
Handsfiil  three 
h'or  you  and  for  me ; 

Now  it  falls  white, 

Good  stones,  bite ! 

Drive  it  round  and  round,  my  Gunga ! 

Sing  soft  to  the  stone ; 

Better  corn  and  churrak-working 
Thau  idleness  and  none. 


( M2  ) 


TAZA  BA  TAZA. 


Akbar  sate  high  in  the  ivory  hall, 

His  chief  musician  he  bade  them  call ; 
Sing,  said  the  king,  that  song  of  glee, 
Taza  ha  taza,  now  ha  now. 

Sing  me  that  music  sweet  and  free, 
Taza  ha  taza,  now  ha  now ; 

Here  by  the  fountain  sing  it  tliou, 
Taza  ha  taza,  now  ha  now. 

Bending  full  low,  his  minstrel  took 
The  Vina  down  from  its  painted  nook, 
Swept  the  strings  of  silver  so 
Taza  ha  taza,  now  ha  now  ; 
kfade  the  gladsome  Vina  go 
T aza  ha  taza,  noiv  ha  now  ; 


TAZA  BA  TAZA. 


'43 


Sang  with  light  strains  and  brightsome  brow 
Taza  ha  taza,  now  ha  now. 

“ What  is  the  lay  for  love  most  fit  ? 

What  is  the  melody  echoes  it  ? 

Ever  in  tune  and  ever  meet, 

Taza  ha  taza,  now  ha  now  ; 

Ever  delightful  and  ever  sweet 
Taza  ha  taza,  now  ha  now  ; 

Soft  as  the  murmur  of  love’s  first  vow, 

Taza  ha  taza,  now  ha  now.” 

“ What  is  the  bliss  that  is  best  on  earth  ? 

Lovers’  light  whispers  and  tender  mirth  ; 

Bright  gleams  the  sun  on  the  Green  Sea’s  isle, 

But  a brighter  light  has  a woman’s  smile : 

Ever,  like  sunrise,  fresh  of  hue, 

Taza  ha  taza,  now  ha  now  ; 

Ever,  like  sunset,  splendid  and  new, 

Taza  ha  taza,  now  ha  now.” 

“ Thereunto  groweth  the  graceful  vine 

To  cool  the  lips  of  lovers  with  wine. 


144 


TAZA  BA  TAZA. 


Haste  thee  and  bring  the  amethyst  cup, 
That  happy  lovers  may  drink  it  up ; 
And  so  renew  their  gentle  play, 

Taza  ha  tarn,  now  ha  now ; 

Ever  delicious  and  new  alway, 

Taza  ha  taza,  now  ha  now.” 


“ Thereunto  sigheth  the  evening  gale 
To  freshen  the  cheeks  which  love  made  pale ; 
This  is  why  hloometh  the  scented  flower. 

To  gladden  with  grace  love’s  secret  bower : 
Love  is  the  zephyr  that  always  blows, 

Taza  ha  taza,  now  ha  now  ; 

Love  is  the  rose-bloom  that  ever  glows, 

Taza  ha  taza,  notv  ha  now.” 


Akbar,  the  mighty  one,  smiled  to  hear 
The  musical  strain  so  soft  and  clear ; 
Danced  the  diamonds  over  his  brow 
To  taza  ha  taza,  now  ha  now : 

Ilis  lovely  ladies  rocked  in  a row 
To  taza  ha  taza,  now  ha  now ; 


TAZA  BA  TAZA. 


«45 


Livelier  sparkled  the  fountain’s  flow, 
Boose  sittan  ba  kaum  uzo  ; 

Swifter  and  sweeter  the  strings  did  go, 
Mutrih  % khooshnud  wa  bejo  ; 

Xever  such  singing  w^as  heard,  1 trow ; 
Taza  ba  taza,  now  ba  now. 


K 


( 146  ) 


THE  MUSSULMAN  PARADISE. 


{From  the  Arabic  of  the  Fifty-sixth  Surat  of  the  Koran, 
entitled  “ The  Inevitable") 

When  the  Day  of  Wrath  and  Mercy  cometh,  none  shall 
doubt  it  come ; 

Unto  hell  some  it  shall  lower,  and  exalt  to  heaven 
some. 

When  the  Earth  with  great  shocks  shaketh,  and  the 
mountains  crumble  flat, 

Quick  and  Dead  shall  be  divided  fourfold : — on  this 
side  and  that. 

The  “ Companions  of  the  Eight  Hand  ” (ah  ! how  joyful 
they  will  be !) 

The  “ Companions  of  the  Left  Hand  ” (oh ! what  misery 
to  see !) 


THE  MUSSULMAN  PARADISE. 


147 


Such,  moreover,  as  of  old  times  loved  the  truth,  and 

. taught  it  well. 

First  in  faith,  they  shall  be  foremost  in  reward.  The 
rest  to  hell. 

But  those  souls  attaining  Allah,  oh ! the  Gardens  of 
good  cheer 

Kept  to  bless  them ! Yea,  besides  the  “ faithful,”  many 
shall  be  there. 

Lightly  lying  on  soft  couches,  beautiful  with  ’broidered 
gold. 

Friends  with  friends,  they  shall  be  served  by  youths 
immortal,  who  shall  hold 

“ Akwdb,  abareek" — cups  and  goblets,  brimming  with 
celestial  wine. 

Wine  that  hurts  not  head  or  stomach  : this  and  fruits 
of  heav’n  which  shine 

Bright,  desirable ; and  rich  flesh  of  what  birds  they 
relish  best. 

Yea!  and — feasted — there  shall  soothe  them  damsels 
fairest,  stateliest ; 


.THE  MUSSULMAN  PARADISE. 


Damsels,  having  eyes  of  wonder,  large  black  eyes,  like 
hidden  pearls, 

“ Lulu-l-maknun  ” : Allah  grants  them  for  sweet  love 
those  matchless  girls. 

Never  in  that  Garden  hear  they  speech  of  folly,  sin,  or 
dread, 

Only  Peace;  “ SALAMUN”  only;  that  one  word  for 
ever  said. 

Peace  ! Peace  ! Peace  ! — and  the  “ Companions  of  the 
Eight  Hand  ” (ah  ! those  bowers !) 

They  shall  lodge  ’mid  thornless  lote-groves  ; under 
mawz-trees  thick  with  flowers  ; 

Shaded,  fed,  by  flowing  waters;  near  to  fruits  that 
never  cloy. 

Hanging  ever  ripe  for  plucking ; and  at  hand  the 
tender  joy 

Of  those  Maids  of  Heaven — the  Hflris.  Lo ! to  these 
we  gave  a birth 

Specially  creating.  Lo ! they  are  not  as  the  wives  of 


earth. 


THE  MUSSULMAN  PARADISE. 


149 


Ever  virginal  and  stainless,  howsooften  they  embrace, 
Always  young,  and  loved,  and  loving,  these  are. 
Neither  is  there  grace 


Like  the  grace  and  bliss  the  Black-eyed  keep  for  you 
in  Paradise ; 

Oh,  “ Companions  of  the  Right  Hand  ” ! oh ! ye  others 
who  were  wise ! 


( ISO  ) 


DEDICA  TION  OF  A POEM  FROM 
THE  SANSKRIT. 


Sweet,  on  the  daisies  of  your  Englisn  grave 
I lay  this  little  wreath  of  Indian  flowers, 

Fragrant  for  me  because  the  scent  they  have 
Breathes  of  the  memory  of  our  wedded  hours ; 

For  others  scentless ; and  for  you,  in  heaven. 

Too  pale  and  faded,  dear  dead  wife ! to  wear. 

Save  that  they  mean — what  makes  aU  fault  forgiven — 
That  he  who  brings  them  lays  his  heart,  too,  there. 


April  9,  1865. 


( 151  ) 


THE  RAJAH'S  RIDE. 


A PUNJAB  SONG. 

Xow  is  the  Devil-horse  come  to  Sindh  1 
Wall ! wall ! gooroo  ! — that  is  true  ! 

llis  belly  is  stuffed  with  the  fire  and  the  wind, 
But  a fleeter  steed  had  Eunjeet  Dehu ! 

It’s  forty  koss  from  Lahore  to  the  ford, 

Lorty  and  more  to  far  Jummoo ; 

Last  may  go  the  Feringhee  lord. 

But  never  so  fast  as  Eunjeet  Dehu ! 

Eunjeet  Dehu  was  King  of  the  Hill, 

Lord  and  eagle  of  every  crest; 

Kow  the  swords  and  the  spears  are  still, 

God  will  have  it — and  God  knows  best  1 


152 


THE  RAJAH'S  RIDE. 


Kajah  Eunjeet  sate  in  the  sky, 

Watching  the  loaded  Kafilas  in ; 

Affghan,  Kashmeree,  passing  by, 

I’aid  him  pushm  to  save  their  skin. 

Once  he  caracoled  into  the  plain, 

Wah ! the  sparkle  of  steel  on  steel ! 

And  up  the  pass  came  singing  again 
With  a lakh  of  silver  borne  at  his  heel. 

Once  he  trusted  the  Mussulman’s  word, 

Wah  ! wah  ! trust  a liar  to  lie  ! 

Down  from  his  eyrie  they  tempted  my  Bird, 
And  clipped  his  wings  that  he  could  not  tly. 

Fettered  him  fast  in  far  Lahore, 

Fast  by  the  gate  at  the  Eunchenee  Eul ; 

Sad  was  the  soul  of  Chuuda  Kour, 

Glad  the  merchants  of  rich  Kurnool. 

Ten  months  Eunjeet  lay  in  Lahore — 

Wah  ! a hero’s  lieart  is  brass ! 

Ten  months  never  did  Chunda  Kour 
Braid  her  hair  at  the  tiring-glass. 


THE  RAJAH'S  RIDE. 


•33 


There  came  a steed  from  Toorkistan, 

Wall ! God  made  him  to  match  the  hawk  ! 

Fast  beside  him  the  four  grooms  ran, 

To  keep  abreast  of  the  Toorkman’s  walk. 

Black  as  the  bear  on  Iskardoo ; 

Savage  at  heart  as  a tiger  chained ; 

Fleeter  than  hawk  that  ever  flew, 

Xever  a ]\Iuslim  could  ride  him  reined. 

“ Eunjeet  Dehu ! come  forth  from  thy  hold”- — 
Wah  ! ten  months  had  rusted  his  chain  ! 

“ Eide  this  Sheitan’s  liver  cold  ” — 

Eunjeet  twisted  his  hand  in  the  mane. 

Eunjeet  sprang  to  the  Toorkman’s  back, 

Wah ! a king  on  a kingly  throne  ! 

Snort,  black  Sheitan  ! tiU  nostrils  crack, 

Eajah  Eunjeet  sits,  a stone. 

Three  times  round  the  Maidan  he  rode, 
Touched  its  neck  at  the  Kashmeree  wall. 

Struck  the  spurs  till  they  spirted  blood. 

Leapt  the  rampart  before  them  all ! 


I 


154 


THE  RAJAH'S  RIDE. 


Breasted  the  waves  of  the  blue  Eavee, 

Forty  horsemen  mounting  behind. 

Forty  bridle-chains  flung  free, — 

Wah  ! wah  ! better  chase  the  wind! 

Chunda  Kour  sate  sad  in  Jummoo  : — 

Hark  ! what  horse-hoof  echoes  without  ? 

“ Rise  ! and  welcome  Eunjeet  Dehu — 

Wash  the  Toorkman’s  nostrils  out  1 

“ Forty  koss  he  has  come,  my  life  ! 

Forty  koss  back  he  must  carry  me  ; 

Eajah  Eunjeet  visits  his  wife, 

He  steals  no  steed  like  an  Afreedee. 

“ They  bade  me  teach  them  how  to  ride — 
Wah  1 wah  1 now  I have  taught  them  well 
Chunda  Kour  sank  low  at  his  side  ! 

Eajah  Eunjeet  rode  the  hill. 

When  he  came  back  to  far  Lahore — 

Long  or  ever  the  night  began — 

Spake  he,  “ Take  your  horse  once  more, 

He  carries  well — when  he  bears  a man.” 


THE  RAJAH'S  RIDE. 


155 


Then  they  gave  him  a khillut  and  gold, 
All  for  his  honom’  and  grace  and  truth ; 
Sent  him  back  to  his  mountain-hold — 
Muslim  manners  have  touch  of  ruth ; 

Sent  him  back,  with  dances  and  drum — 
Wall ! my  Eajah  Eunjeet  Dehu  ! 

To  Chunda  Kour  and  his  Jummoo  home — 
Wall ! wah  ! futtee  ! — wah,  gooroo  ! 


TWO  BOOKS  FROM  THE  ILIAD 
OF  INDIA. 


( 159  ) 


TIVO  BOOKS  FROM  THE  ILIAD  OF 
INDIA. 

{Now  for  the  first  time  translated.) 

There  exist  certain  colossal,  unparalleled,  epic  poems 
in  the  sacred  language  of  India,  which  were  not  known 
to  Europe,  even  by  name,  till  Sir  William  Jones  an- 
nounced their  existence;  and  which,  since  his  time, 
liave  been  made  public  only  by  fragments — by  mere 
specimens — bearing  to  those  vast  treasures  of  Sanskrit 
literature  such  small  proportion  as  cabinet  samples  of 
ore  have  to  the  riches  of  a mine.  Yet  these  twain 
mighty  poems  contain  all  the  history  of  ancient 
India,  so  far  as  it  can  be  recovered,  together  with  such 
inexhaustible  details  of  its  political,  social,  and  reli- 
gious life  that  the  antique  Hindu  world  really  stands 
epitomised  in  them.  The  Old  Testament  is  not  more 
interwoven  with  the  Jewish  race,  nor  the  New  Testa- 
ment with  the  civilisation  of  Christendom,  nor  the 
Koran  with  the  records  and  destinies  of  Islam,  than 
are  these  two  Sanskrit  poems  — the  Mahabharata 
and  Eamavana — with  that  unchancrinq  and  teemincp 
population  which  Her  Majesty,  Queen  Victoria,  rules 


i6o 


TWO  BOOKS  FROM  THE 


as  Empress  of  Hindustan.  The  stories,  songs,  and 
ballads,  the  histories  and  genealogies,  the  nursery 
tales  and  religious  discourses,  the  art,  the  learning, 
the  philosophy,  the  creeds,  the  moralities,  the  modes 
of  thought;  the  very  phrases,  sayings,  turns  of  ex- 
pression, and  daily  ideas  of  the  Hindu  people,  are 
taken  from  these  poems.  Their  children  and  their 
wives  are  named  out  of  them;  so  are  their  cities, 
temples,  streets,  and  cattle.  They  have  constituted 
the  library,  the  newspaper,  and  the  Bible — generation 
after  generation — to  all  the  succeeding  and  countless 
millions  of  Indian  people;  and  it  replaces  patriotism 
with  that  race  and  stands  in  stead  of  nationality  to 
possess  these  two  precious  and  inexhaustible  books,  and 
to  drink  from  them  as  from  mighty  and  overflowing 
rivers.  The  value  ascribed  in  Hindustan  to  these  yet 
little-known  epics  has  transcended  aU  literary  standards 
established  in  the  West.  They  are  personified,  wor- 
shipped, and  cited  from  as  something  divine.  To  read 
or  even  listen  to  them  is  thought  by  the  devout  Hindu 
sufficiently  meritorious  to  bring  prosperity  to  his  house- 
hold here  and  happiness  in  the  next  world ; they  are 
held  also  to  give  wealth  to  the  poor,  health  to  the  sick, 
wisdom  to  the  ignorant ; and  the  recitation  of  certain 
parvas  and  shloJcas  in  them  can  fill  the  household  of 
the  barren,  it  is  believed,  with  children.  A concluding 
passage  of  the  great  poem  says: — 

“ The  reading  of  this  Mababbarata  destroys  all  sin  and  pro- 
duces virtue ; so  much  so,  that  the  pronunciation  orf  a single 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


i6i 


fibloka  is  sufficient  to  wipe  away  much  guilt.  This  Mahfi- 
bhcirata  contains  the  history  of  the  gods,  of  the  Rishis  in 
heaven  and  those  on  earth,  of  the  Gandharvas  and  the  Rak- 
shasas.  It  also  contains  the  life  and  actions  of  the  one  God, 
holy,  immutable,  and  true, — who  is  Krishna,  who  is  tiie  creator 
and  the  ruler  of  this  universe ; who  is  seeking  the  welfare  of 
his  creation  by  means  of  his  incomparable  and  indestructible 
power ; whose  actions  are  celebrated  by  all  sages ; who  has 
bound  human  beings  in  a chain,  of  which  one  end  is  life  and 
the  other  death ; on  whom  the  Rishis  meditate,  and  a know- 
ledge of  whom  imparts  unalloyed  happiness  to  their  hearts,  and 
for  whose  gratification  and  favour  all  the  daily  devotions  are 
performed  by  all  worshippers.  If  a man  reads  the  Maha- 
bharata  and  has  faith  in  its  doctrines,  he  is  free  from  all  sin, 
and  ascends  to  heaven  after  his  death.” 

In  order  to  explain  the  portion  of  this  Indian  epic, 
here  for  the  first  time  published  in  English  verse,  I 
reprint  a brief  summary  of  its  plot : — 

The  “great  war  of  Bharat”  has  its  first  scenes  in 
Hastinapur,  an  ancient  and  vanished  city,  formerly 
situated  about  sixty  miles  north-east  of  the  modern 
Delhi.  The  Ganges  has  washed  away  even  the  ruins 
of  this  the  metropolis  of  King  Bharat’s  dominions. 
The  poem  opens  with  a “ sacrifice  of  snakes ; ” but  this 
is  a prelude,  connected  merely  by  a curious  legend  with 
the  real  beginning.  That  beginning  is  reached  when 
the  five  sons  of  “King  Pandu  the  Pale”  and  the  five 
sons  of  “ King  Dhritarashtra  the  Blind,”  both  of  them 
descendants  of  Bharat,  are  being  brought  up  together 
in  the  palace.  The  first  were  called  Pandavas,  the  last 
Kauravas,  and  their  lifelong  feud  is  the  main  subject 
of  the  epic.  Yudhishthira,  Bhima,  Arjuna,  Nakula, 
and  Sahadeva  are  the  Pandava  princes.  Duryodhana 

L 


i62  two  books  from  THE 

is  chief  of  the  Kauravas.  They  are  instructed  by  one 
master,  Drona,  a Brahman,  in  the  arts  of  war  and 
peace,  and  learn  to  manage  and  brand  cattle,  hunt  wild 
animals,  and  tame  horses.  There  is  in  the  early  portion 
a striking  picture  of  an  Aryan  tournament,  wherein  the 
young  cousins  display  their  skill,  “ highly  arrayed,  amid 
vast  crowds,”  and  Arjuna  especially  distinguishes  him- 
self. Clad  in  golden  mail,  he  shows  amazing  feats  with 
sword  and  bow.  He  shoots  twenty-one  arrows  into  the 
hollow  of  a buffalo-horn  while  his  chariot  whirls  alone ; 
he  throw's  the  “ chakra,”  or  sharp  quoit,  without  once 
missing  his  victim ; and,  after  winning  the  prizes, 
kneels  respectfully  at  the  feet  of  his  instructor  to 
receive  his  crown.  The  cousins,  after  this,  march  out 
to  fight  with  a neighbouring  king,  and  the  Pandavas, 
who  are  always  the  favoured  family  in  the  poem,  win 
most  of  the  credit,  so  that  Yudhishthira  is  elected  from 
among  them  Yuvaraj,  or  heir  apparent.  This  incenses 
Duryodhana,  wdio,  by  appealing  to  his  father,  Dhritar- 
ashtra,  procures  a division  of  the  kingdom,  the  Pandavas 
being  sent  to  Vacanavat,  now  Allahabad.  All  this  part 
of  the  story  refers  obviously  to  the  advances  gradually 
made  by  the  Aryan  conquerors  of  India  into  the  jungles 
peopled  by  aborigines.  Forced  to  quit  their  new  city, 
the  Pandavas  hear  of  the  marvellous  beauty  of  Draupadi, 
whose  Swayamvara,  or  “ choice  of  a suitor,”  is  about  to 
be  celebrated  at  Kampilya.  This  again  furnishes  a 
strange  and  glittering  picture  of  the  old  times;  vast 
masses  of  holiday  people,  with  rajahs,  elephants,  troops, 


ILIAD  or  INDIA. 


163 


jugglers,  dancing-women,  and  showmen,  are  gathered 
in  a gay  encampment  round  the  pavilion  of  the  King 
Draupada,  whose  lovely  daughter  is  to  take  for  her 
husband  (on  the  well-understood  condition  that  she 
approves  of  him)  the  fortunate  archer  who  can  strike 
the  eye  of  a golden  fish,  whirling  round  upon  the  top 
of  a tall  pole,  with  an  arrow  shot  from  an  enormously 
strong  bow.  The  princess,  adorned  with  radiant  gems, 
holds  a garland  of  flowers  in  her  hand  for  the  victorious 
suitor;  but  none  of  the  rajahs  can  bend  the  bow. 
Arjuna,  disguised  as  a Brahman,  performs  the  feat  with 
ease,  and  his  youth  and  grace  win  the  heart  of  Braupadi 
more  completely  than  his  skill.  Tlie  princess  hence- 
forth follows  the  fortunes  of  the  brothers,  and,  by  a 
strange  ancient  custom,  lives  with  them  in  common. 
The  Pandavas,  now  allied  to  the  King  Draupada  and 
become  strong,  are  so  much  dreaded  by  the  Kauravas 
that  they  are  invited  back  again,  for  safety’s  sake,  to 
Hastinapura,  and  settle  near  it  in  the  city  of  Indra- 
prastha,  now  Delhi.  The  reign  of  Yudhishthira  and 
his  brothers  is  very  prosperous  there;  “every  subject 
was  pious ; there  were  no  liars,  thieves,  or  cheats ; no 
droughts,  floods,  or  locusts;  no  conflagrations  nor  in- 
vaders, nor  parrots  to  eat  up  the  grain.” 

The  Pandava  king,  having  subdued  all  enemies,  now 
performs  the  Bajasuya,  or  ceremony  of  supremacy, — 
and  here  again  occur  wonderfully  interesting  pictures. 
Duryodhana  comes  thither,  and  his  jealousy  is  inflamed 
by  the  magnificence  of  the  rite.  Among  other  curious 


164 


TWO  BOOKS  FROM  THE 


incidents  is  one  which  seems  to  show  that  glass  was 
already  known.  A pavilion  is  paved  with  “ black  cry- 
stal,” which  the  Kaurava  prince  mistakes  for  water, 
and  “ draws  up  his  garments  lest  he  should  be  wetted.” 
But  now  approaches  a turning-point  in  the  epic. 
Furious  at  the  wealth  and  fortune  of  his  cousins, 
Duryodhana  invites  them  to  Hastinapura  to  join  in  a 
great  gambling  festival.  The  passion  for  play  was  as 
strong  apparently  with  these  antique  Hindus  as  that 
for  fighting  or  for  love:  “No  true  Kshatriya  must  ever 
decline  a challenge  to  combat  or  to  dice.”  The  brothers 
go  .to  the  entertainment,  which  is  to  ruin  their  pro- 
sperity ; for  Sakuni,  the  most  skilful  and  lucky  gambler, 
has  loaded  the  “coupun,”  so  as  to  win  every  throw. 
Mr.  Wheeler’s  excellent  summary  again  says : — 

“ Tlien  Yudhishthira  and  Sakuni  sat  down  to  play,  and  what- 
ever Yudhishthira  laid  as  stakes  Duryodhana  laid  something  of 
equal  value ; but  Y’’udhishthira  lost  every  game.  He  first  lost 
a very  beautiful  pearl ; next  a thousand  bags  each  containing 
a thousand  pieces  of  gold  ; next  a great  piece  of  gold  so  pure 
that  it  was  as  soft  as  wax  ; next  a chariot  set  with  jewels  and 
hung  all  round  with  golden  bells ; next  a thousand  war-ele- 
phants with  golden  liowdahs  set  with  diamonds  ; next  a lakh 
of  slaves  all  dressed  in  rich  garments ; next  a lakh  of  beautiful 
slave-girls,  adorned  from  head  to  foot  with  golden  ornaments ; 
next  all  the  remainder  of  his  goods ; next  all  his  cattle ; and 
then  the  whole  of  his  Raj,  excepting  only  the  lands  which  had 
been  granted  to  the  Brahmans.” 

After  this  tremendous  run  of  ill-luck,  he  madly 
stakes  Draupadi  the  Beautiful,  and  loses  her.  The 
princess  is  dragged  away  by  the  hair,  and  Duryodhana 
mockingly  bids  her  come  and  sit  upon  his  knee,  for 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


1C5 

which  Ehima  the  Pandava  swears  that  he  will  some 
day  break  his  thigh-bone, — a vow  which  is  duly  kept. 
But  the  blind  old  king  rebukes  this  fierce  elation  of  the 
winner,  restores  Draupadi,  and  declares  that  they  must 
throw  another  main  to  decide  who  shall  leave  llastin- 
apura.  The  cheating  Sakuni  cogs  tlie  dice  again,  and 
the  Pandavas  must  now  go  away  into  the  forest,  and 
let  no  man  know  them  by  name  for  thirteen  years. 
They  depart,  Draupadi  unbinding  her  long  black  hair, 
and  vowinc:  never  to  fasten  it  back  again  till  the  hands 
of  Bhima,  the  strong  man  among  the  I’andavas,  are  red 
Avith  the  punishment  of  the  Ivauravas.  “Then  he  sliall 
tie  my  tresses  up  again,  when  his  fingers  are  dripping 
with  Duhsasana’s  blood.” 

There  follow  long  episodes  of  their  adventures  in 
the  jungle  till  the  time  when  the  Pandavas  emerge, 
and,  still  disguised,  take  up  their  residence  in  King 
Virata’s  city.  Here  the  vicissitudes  of  Draupadi  as  a 
handmaid  of  the  queen,  of  Bhima  as  the  palace  wrestler, 
of  Arjuna  disguised  as  a eunuch,  and  of  Nakula,  Saha- 
deva,  and  Yudhishthira,  acting  as  herdsmen  and  atten- 
dants, are  most  absorbing  and  dramatic.  The  virtue  of 
Draupadi,  assailed  by  a prince  of  the  State,  is  terribly 
defended  by  the  giant  Bhima  ; and  when  the  Kauravas, 
suspecting  the  presence  in  the  place  of  their  cousins, 
attack  Virata,  Arjuna  drives  the  chariot  of  the  heir 
apparent,  and  victoriously  repulses  them  with  his 
awful  bow  Gandiva. 

After  all  these  evidences  of  prowess  and  the  help 


i66 


TWO  BOOKS  FROM  THE 


afforded  in  the  battle,  the  King  of  Virata  discovers  the 
princely  rank  of  the  Pandavas,  and  gives  his  daughter 
in  marriage  to  the  son  of  Arjuna,  A great  council  is 
then  held  to  consider  the  question  of  declaring  war  on 
the  Kauravas,  at  which  the  speeches  are  quite  Homeric, 
the  god  Krishna  taking  part.  The  decision  is  to 
prepare  for  war,  but  to  send  an  embassy  first.  Mean- 
time Duryodhana  and  Arjuna  engage  in  a singular 
contest  to  obtain  the  aid  of  Krishna,  whom  both  of 
them  seek  out.  This  celestial  hero  is  asleep  when  they 
arrive,  and  the  proud  Kaurava,  as  Lord  of  Indraprastha, 
sits  down  at  his  head ; Arjuna,  more  reverently,  takes 
a place  at  his  feet.  Krishna,  awaking,  offers  to  give 
his  vast  army  to  one  of  them,  and  himself  as  counsellor 
to  the  other ; and  Arjuna  gladly  allows  Duryodhana 
to  take  the  army,  which  turns  out  much  the  worse 
bargain.  The  embassy,  meantime,  is  badly  received ; 
but  it  is  determined  to  reply  by  a counter-message, 
while  warlike  preparations  continue.  There  is  a great 
deal  of  useless  negotiation,  against  which  Draupadr 
protests,  like  another  Constance,  saying,  “War,  war! 
no  peace  1 Peace  is  to  me  a war ! ” Krishna  consoles 
her  with  the  words,  “ Weep  not ! the  time  has  nearly 
come  when  tlie  Kauravas  will  be  slain,  both  great  and 
small,  and  their  wives  will  mourn  as  you  have  been 
mourning.”  The  ferocity  of  the  chief  of  the  Kauravas 
prevails  over  the  wise  counsels  of  the  blind  old  king 
and  the  warnings  of  Krishna,  so  that  the  fatal  conflict 
must  now  begin  upon  the  plain  of  Kurukshetra.  ’ 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


167 


All  is  henceforth  martial  and  stormy  in  the  “parvas” 
that  ensue.  The  two  enormous  hosts  march  to  the 
field,  generalissimos  are  selected,  and  defiances  of  the 
most  violent  and  abusive  sort  exchanged.  Yet  there 
are  traces  of  a singular  civilisation  in  the  rules  which 
the  leaders  draw  up  to  be  observed  in  the  war.  Thus, 
no  stratagems  are  to  be  used ; the  fighting  men  are  to 
fraternise,  if  they  will,  after  each  combat;  none  may 
slay  the  flier,  the  unarmed,  the  charioteer,  or  the  beater 
of  the  drum  ; horsemen  are  not  to  attack  footmen,  and 
nobody  is  to  fling  a spear  till  the  preliminary  challenges 
are  finished;  nor  may  any  third  man  interfere  when 
two  combatants  are  engaged.  These  curious  regulations 
— which  would  certainly  much  embarrass  Von  Moltke 
— are,  sooth  to  say,  not  very  strictly  observed,  and,  no 
doubt,  were  inserted  at  a later  age  in  the  body  of  the 
poem  by  its  Brahman  editors.  Those  same  interpolaters 
have  overloaded  the  account  of  the  eighteen  days  of 
terrific  battle  which  follow  with  many  episodes  and 
interruptions,  some  very  eloquent  and  philosophic; 
indeed,  the  whole  Bhagavad-Gita  comes  in  hereabouts 
as  a religious  interlude.  Essays  on  laws,  morals,  and 
the  sciences  are  grafted,  with  lavish  indifference  to  the 
continuous  flow  of  the  narrative,  upon  its  most  impor- 
tant portions ; but  there  is  enough  of  solid  and  tremen- 
dous fighting,  notwithstanding,  to  pale  the  crimson  pages 
of  the  Greek  Iliad  itself.  The  field  glitters,  indeed, 
with  kings  and  princes  in  panoply  of  gold  and  jewels, 
who  engage  in  mighty  and  varied  combats,  till  the 


i68 


TWO  BOOKS  FROM  THE 


earth  swims  in  blood,  and  the  heavens  themselves  are 
obscured  with  dust  and  flying  weapons.  One  by  one 
the  Kaurava  chiefs  are  slain,  and  Bhima,  the  giant, 
at  last  meets  in  arms  Duhsasana,  the  Kaurava  prince 
who  had  dragged  Draupadi  by  the  hair.  He  strikes 
him  down  with  the  terrible  mace  of  iron,  after  which 
he  cuts  off  his  head,  and  drinks  of  his  blood,  saying, 
“ Never  have  I tasted  a draught  so  delicious  as  this.” 
So  furious  now  becomes  the  war  that  even  the  just  and 
mild  Arjuna  commits  two  breaches  of  Aryan  chivalry, 
— killing  an  enemy  while  engaged  with  a third  man, 
and  shooting  Kama  dead  while  he  is  extricating  his 
chariot-wheel  and  without  a weapon.  At  last  none  are 
left  of  the  chief  Kauravas  except  Duryodhana,  who 
retires  from  the  field  and  hides  in  an  island  of  the  lake. 
The  Pandavas  find  him  out,  and  heap  such  reproaches 
on  him  that  the  surly  warrior  comes  forth  at  length, 
and  agrees  to  fight  with  Bhima.  The  duel  proves  of 
a tremendous  nature,  and  is  decided  by  an  act  of 
treachery;  for  Arjuna,  standing  by,  reminds  Bhima, 
by  a gesture,  of  his  oath  to  break  the  thigh  of  Duryod- 
hana, because  he  had  bidden  Draupadi  sit  on  his  knee. 
The  giant  takes  the  hint,  and  strikes  a foul  blow,  which 
cripples  the  Kaurava  hero,  and  he  falls  helpless  to 
earth.  After  this  the  Pandava  princes  are  declared 
victorious,  and  Yudhishthira  is  proclaimed  king. 

The  great  poem  soon  softens  its  martial  music  into 
a pathetic  strain.  The  dead  have  to  be  burned,  and 
the  living  reconciled  to  their  new  lords;  while  after- 


ILIAD  or  INDIA. 


169 


wards  King  Yudliishtbira  is  installed  in  high  state 
wiih  “ charaaras,  golden  umbrellas,  elephants,  and  sing- 
ing.” He  is  enthroned  facing  towards  the  east,  and 
touches  rice,  flowers,  earth,  gold,  silver,  and  jewels, 
in  token  of  owning  all  the  products  of  his  realm. 
Being  thus  firmly  seated  on  his  throne,  with  his  cousins 
round  him,  the  Eajab  prepares  to  celebrate  the  most 
magnificent  of  ancient  Hindu  rites, — the  Asicamcdha, 
or  Sacrifice  of  the  Horse.  It  is  difficult  to  raise  the 
thoughts  of  a modern  and  AVestern  public  to  the 
solemnity,  majesty,  and  marvel  of  this  antique  Oriental 
rite,  as  viewed  by  Hindus.  The  monarch  who  was 
powerful  enough  to  perform  it  chose  a horse  of  pure 
white  colour,  “ like  the  moon,”  with  a saffron  tail,  and 
a black  right  ear;  or  the  animal  might  be  all  black, 
without  a speck  of  colour.  This  steed,  wearing  a gold 
plate  on  its  forehead,  with  the  royal  name  inscribed, 
was  turned  loose,  and  during  a whole  year  the  king’s 
army  was  bound  to  follow  its  wanderings.  AA^hitherso- 
ever  it  went,  the  ruler  of  the  invaded  territory  must 
either  pay  homage  to  the  king,  and  join  him  with  his 
warriors,  or  accept  battle;  but  whether  conquered  or 
peacefully  submitting,  all  these  princes  must  follow 
the  horse,  and  at  the  end  of  the  year  assist  at  the 
sacrifice  of  the  consecrated  animal.  Moreover,  during 
the  whole  year  the  king  must  restrain  all  passion,  live 
a perfectly  purified  life,  and  sleep  on  the  bare  ground. 
The  white  horse  could  not  be  loosened  until  the  night 
of  the  full  moon  in  Chaitra,  which  answers  to  the 


170 


TWO  BOOKS  FROM  THE 


latter  half  of  March  and  the  first  half  of  April, — in 
fact,  at  Easter-time ; and  it  may  be  observed  here  that 
this  is  not  the  only  strange  coincidence  in  the  sacrifice. 
It  was  thus  an  adventure  of  romantic  conquest,  mingled 
with  deep  religion  and  arrogant  ostentation;  and  the 
entire  description  of  the  Aswamedha  would  prove  most 
interesting.  The  horse  is  found,  is  adorned  with  the 
golden  plate,  and  turned  loose,  wandering  into  distant 
regions  ; where  the  army  of  Arjuna — for  it  was  he  who 
led  Yudhishthira’s  forces — goes  through  twelve  amaz- 
ing adventures.  They  come,  for  instance,  to  a land  of 
Amazons,  all  of  wonderful  beauty,  wearing  armour  of 
pearls  and  gold,  and  equally  fatal  either  to  love  or  to 
fight  with.  These  dazzling  enemies,  however,  finally 
submit,  as  also  the  Eajah  of  the  rich  city  of  Babhru- 
vahan,  which  possessed  high  walls  of  solid  silver, 
and  was  lighted  with  precious  jewels  for  lamps.  The 
serpent  people,  in  the  same  way,  who  live  beneath  the 
earth  in  the  city  of  Vasuki,  yield,  after  combat,  to 
Arjuna.  A thousand  million  semi-human  snakemen 
dwelt  there,  with  wives  of  consummate  loveliness, 
possessing  in  their  realm  gems  which  would  restore 
dead  people  to  life,  as  well  as  a fountain  of  perpetual 
youth.  Finally,  Arjuna’s  host  marches  back  in  great 
glory,  and  with  a vast  train  of  vanquished  monarchs,  to 
the  city  of  Hastinapura,  where  all  the  subject  kings  have 
audience  of  Yudhishthira,  and  the  immense  prepara- 
tions begin  for  the  sacrifice  of  the  snow-white  horse. 

After  all  these  stately  celebrations,  it  might  be 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


lyt 

expected  that  the  great  poem  would  conclude  with  the 
established  glories  of  the  ancient  dynasty.  But  if  the 
martial  part  of  the  colossal  epic  is  “ Kshatriyan,”  and 
the  religious  episodes  “ Brahmanic,”  the  conclusion 
breathes  the  spirit  of  Buddhism.  Yudhishthira  sits 
grandly  on  the  throne ; but  earthly  greatness  does  not 
content  the  soul  of  man,  nor  can  riches  render  weary 
hearts  happy.  A wonderful  scene,  which  reads  like  a 
rebuke  from  the  dead  addressed  to  the  living  upon  the 
madness  of  all  war,  occurs  in  this  part  of  the  poem. 
The  Pandavas  and  the  old  King  Dhritarashtra  being 
together  by  the  banks  of  the  Ganges,  the  great  saint 
Vyasa  undertakes  to  bring  back  to  them  all  the 
departed,  slain  in  their  fratricidal  conflict.  The  spec- 
tacle is  at  once  terrible  and  tender. 

But  this  revealing  of  the  invisible  world  deepens  the 
discontent  of  the  princes,  and  when  the  sage  Vyasa 
tells  them  that  their  prosperity  is  near  its  end,  they 
determine  to  leave  their  kingdom  to  younger  princes, 
and  to  set  out  with  their  faces  towards  Mount  Meru, 
where  is  Indra’s  heaven.  If,  haply,  they  may  reach  it, 
there  will  be  an  end  of  this  world’s  joys  and  sorrows, 
and  “ union  with  the  Infinite  ” will  be  obtained.  My 
translations  from  the  Sanskrit  of  the  two  concluding 
parvas  of  the  poem  (of  which  the  above  is  a swift  sum- 
mary) describe  the  “Last  Journey”  of  the  princes  and 
their  “ Entry  into  Heaven  ; ” and  herein  occurs  one  of 
the  noblest  religious  apologues  not  only  of  this  great 
Epic  but  of  any  creed, — a beautiful  fable  of  faithful 


172 


TWO  BOOKS  FROM  THE 


love  which  may  be  contrasted,  to  the  advantage  of  the 
Hindu  teaching,  with  any  Scriptural  representations 
of  Death,  and  of  Love,  “ which  stronger  is  than  Death.” 
There  is  always  something  selfish  in  the  anxiety  of 
Orthodox  people  to  save  their  own  souls,  and  our  best 
religious  language  is  not  free  from  that  taint  of  pious 
egotism.  The  Parvas  of  the  Mahabharata  which  con- 
tain Yudhishthira’s  approach  to  Indra’s  paradise  teach, 
on  the  contrary,  that  deeper  and  better  lesson  nobly 
enjoined  by  an  American  poet — 

“ The  gate  of  heaven  opens  to  none  alone, 

Save  thou  one  soul,  and  it  shall  save  thine  own.” 

These  prefatory  remarks  seemed  necessary  to  intro- 
duce the  subjoined  close  paraphrase  of  the  “ Book  of 
the  Great  Journey,” — and  the  “Book  of  the  Entry  into 
Heaven ; ” being  the  Seventeenth  and  Eighteenth 
Parvas  of  the  noble  but,  as  yet,  almost  unknown 
!Mahabharata. 


THE  MAHAPEASTHAhIKA  PARVA  OF  THE 
MAHABHARATA. 

“ THE  GREAT  JOURNEY.”' 

To  Narayen,  Lord  of  lords,  he  glory  given, 

To  sweet  Saraswati,  the  Queen  in  ITeaven, 

To  great  Vydsa,  eke,  pay  reverence  due, 

So  shall  this  story  its  high  course  pursue. 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


173 


Then  Janmejaya  prayed:  “Thou  Singer,  say, 
What  wrought  the  princes  of  the  Pandavas 
On  tidings  of  the  battle  so  ensued, 

And  Krishna,  gone  on  high  ? ’’ 


Answered  the  Sage : 

“ On  tidings  of  the  wreck  of  Yrishni’s  race. 

King  Yudhishthira  of  the  Pandavas 
Was  minded  to  be  done  with  earthly  things. 

And  to  Arjuua  spake:  ‘0  noble  Prince, 

Time  endeth  all ; we  linger,  noose  on  neck, 

Till  the  last  day  tightens  the  line,  and  kills. 

Let  us  go  forth  to  die,  being  yet  alive.’ 

And  Kunti’s  son,  the  great  Arjuna,  said : 

‘ Let  us  go  forth  to  die ! — Time  slayeth  all ; 

We  will  find  Death,  who  seeketh  other  men.’ 

And  Bhimasena,  hearing,  answered : ‘ Yea  ! 

We  will  find  Death ! ’ and  Sahadev  cried : ‘ Yea ! ’ 
And  his  twin  brother  Kakula:  whereat 
The  princes  set  their  faces  for  the  Mount. 

“ But  Yudhishthira—  ere  he  left  his  realm, 

To  seek  high  ending — summoned  Tuyutsu, 


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Surnamed  of  fights,  and  set  him  over  all, 

Eegent,  to  rule  in  Parikshita’s  name 
Nearest  the  throne;  and  Parikshita  king 
He  crowned,  and  unto  old  Subhadra  said  : 

‘ This,  thy  son’s  son,  shall  wear  the  Kuru  crown. 
And  Yadu’s  offspring,  Vajra,  shall  be  first 
In  Yadu’s  house.  Bring  up  the  little  prince 
Here  in  our  Hastinpur,  but  Vajra  keep 
At  Indraprasth ; and  let  it  be  thy  last 
Of  virtuous  works  to  guard  the  lads,  and  guide.’ 

“ So  ordering  ere  he  went,  the  righteous  king 
Made  offering  of  white  water,  heedfully. 

To  Vasudev,  to  Piama,  and  the  rest, — 

All  funeral  rites  performing ; next  he  spread 
A funeral  feast,  whereat  there  sate  as  guests 
Narada,  Dwaipayana,  Bharadwaj,  ■ 

And  Markandeya,  rich  in  saintly  years. 

And  Tajnavalkya,  Ilari,  and  tlie  priests. 

Those  holy  ones  he  fed  with  dainty  meats 
In  kingliest  wise,  naming  the  name  of  Him 
Who  bears  the  bow  ; and — that  it  should  be  well 
For  him  and  his — gave  to  the  Brahmanas  _ 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA 


J7S 

Jewels  of  gold  and  silver,  lakhs  on  lakhs, 

Fair  broidered  cloths,  gardens  and  villages, 
Chariots  and  steeds  and  slaves. 


“ Which  being  done, — 

0 Best  of  Bharat’s  line  ! — he  bowed  him  low 
Before  his  Guru’s  feet, — at  Kripa’s  feet. 

That  sage  all  honoured, — saying,  ‘ Take  my  prince ; 
Teach  Parikshita  as  thou  taughtest  me ; 

For  hearken,  ministers  and  men  of  war  ! 

Fixed  is  my  mind  to  quit  all  earthly  state.’ 

FuU  sore  of  heart  were  they,  and  sore  the  folk 
To  hear  such  speech,  and  bitter  spread  the  word 
Through  town  and  country,  that  the  king  would  go  ; 
And  all  the  people  cried,  ‘ Stay  with  us.  Lord  ! ’ 
But  Yudhishthira  knew  the  time  was  come. 

Knew  that  life  passes  and  that  virtue  lasts. 

And  put  aside  their  love. 


“ So — with  farewells 
Tenderly  took  of  Lieges  and  of  lords — 

Girt  he  for  travel,  with  his  princely  kin. 


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Great  Yudhishthira,  Dharma’s  royal  son. 
Crest-gem  and  belt  and  ornaments  he  stripped 
From  off  his  body,  and  for  broidered  robe 
A rough  dress  donned,  woven  of  jungle-bark  ; 
And  what  he  did — 0 Lord  of  men  ! — so  did 
Arjuna,  Bhfma,  and  the  twin-born  pair, 

Nakula  with  Sahadev,  and  she — in  grace 
The  peerless — Draupadi.  Lastly  these  six. 

Thou  son  of  Bharata  ! in  solemn  form 
Made  the  high  sacrifice  of  Naishtiki, 

Quenching  their  flames  in  water  at  the  close ; 
And  so  set  forth,  ’midst  wailing  of  all  folk 
And  tears  of  women,  weeping  most  to  see 
The  Princess  Draupadi — that  lovely  prize 
Of  the  great  gaming,  Draupadi  the  Bright — 
Journeying  afoot;  but  she  and  all  the  Five 
Bejoiced,  because  their  way  lay  heavenwards. 

‘ Seven  were  they,  setting  forth, — princess  and  kin 
The  king’s  four  brothers,  and  a faithful  dog. 
Those  left  Hastinapur ; but  many  a man, 

And  all  the  palace  household,  followed  them 
The  first  sad  stage;  and,  ofttimes  prayed  to  part, 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


177 


Put  parting  off  for  love  and  pity,  still 
Sighing  ‘ A little  farther  ! ’ — till  day  waned  ; 

Then  one  by  one  they  turned,  and  Kripa  said, 

‘ Let  all  turn  back,  Yuyutsu  ! These  must  go.’ 

So  came  they  homewards,  but  the  Snake-King’s  child^ 
TJlupi,  leapt  in  Ganges,  losing  them ; 

And  Chitranagad  with  her  people  went 
Mournful  to  Munipoor,  whilst  the  three  queens 
Brought  Parikshita  in. 


“ Thus  wended  they, 
Pandu’s  five  sons  and  loveliest  Draupadi, 

Tasting  no  meat,  and  journeying  due  east; 

On  righteousness  their  high  hearts  bent,  to  heaven 
Their  souls  assigned ; and  steadfast  trode  their  feet, 
By  faith  upborne,  past  nullah,  ran,  and  wood. 

Paver  and  jheel  and  plain.  Iving  Yudhishthir 
"Walked  foremost,  Blnma  followed,  after  him 
Arjuna,  and  the  twin-born  brethren  next, 

Xakula  with  Sahadev ; in  whose  still  steps — 

O Best  of  Bharat’s  offspring  ! — Draupadi, 

That  gem  of  women,  paced  ; with  soft,  dark  face, — 
Beautiful,  wonderful ! — and  lustrous  eyes, 

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Clear-lined  like  lotus-petals ; last  the  dog. 
Following  the  Pandavas. 


“ At  length  they  reach 

The  far  Lauchityan  Sea,  which  foameth  white 
Under  Udayachala’s  ridge. — Know  ye 
That  all  this  while  Nakula  had  not  ceased 
Bearing  the  holy  bow,  named  Gandiva, 

And  jewelled  quiver,  ever  filled  with  shafts 
Though  one  should  shoot  a thousand  thousand  times. 
Here — broad  across  their  path — the  heroes  see 
Agni,  the  god.  As  though  a mighty  hill 
Took  form  of  front  and  breast  and  limb,  he  spake. 
Seven  streams  of  shining  splendour  rayed  his  brow. 
While  the  dread  voice  said  : ‘ I am  Agni,  chiefs ! 

0 sons  of  Pandu,  I am  Agni ! Hail ! 

0 long-armed  Yudhishthira,  blameless  king, — 

0 warlike  Bliirna, — 0 Arjuna,  wise, — 

0 brothers  twin-born  from  a womb  divine, — 

Hear ! I am  Agni,  who  consumed  the  wood 
By  will  of  Narayan  for  Arjuna’s  sake. 

Let  this  your  brother  give  Gandiva  back, — 

The  matchless  bow  : the  use  for  it  is  o’er. 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


179 


That  gem-rincred  battle-discus  which  lie  whirled 
Cometh  again  to  Krishna  in  his  hand 
For  avatars  to  be ; but  need  is  none 
Henceforth  of  this  most  excellent  bright  bow, 
Gandiva,  which  I brought  for  Partha’s  aid 
From  high  Varuna.  Let  it  be  returned. 

Cast  it  herein ! ’ 


“ And  all  the  princes  said. 

‘ Cast  it,  dear  brother ! ’ So  Arjuna  threw 
Into  that  sea  the  quiver  ever-filled, 

And  glittering  bow.  Then  led  by  Agni’s  light. 

Unto  the  south  they  turned,  and  so  south-west. 

And  afterwards  right  west,  until  they  saw 
Dwaraka,  washed  and  bounded  by  a main 
Loud-thundering  on  its  shores  ; and  here — 0 Best ! — 
Vanished  the  God ; while  yet  those  heroes  walked, 
Mow  to  the  north-west  bending,  where  long  coasts 
Shut  in  the  sea  of  salt,  now  to  the  north. 
Accomplishing  all  quarters,  journeyed  they ; 

The  earth  their  altar  of  high  sacrifice, 

"Which  these  most  patient  feet  did  pace  around 
Till  Meru  rose. 


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“At  last  it  rose ! These  Six, 

Their  senses  subjugate,  their  spirits  pure, 

AYending  alone,  came  into  sight — far  off 
In  the  eastern  sky — of  awful  Himavan ; 

And,  midway  in  the  peaks  of  Himavan, 

Meru,  the  Mountain  of  all  mountains,  rose, 

AVhose  head  is  Heaven ; and  under  Himavan 
Glared  a wide  waste  of  sand,  dreadful  as  death. 

“ Then,  as  they  hastened  o’er  the  deadly  waste. 

Aiming  for  Meru,  ha\dng  thoughts  at  soul 
Infinite,  eager, — lo ! Draupadi  reeled, 

AYith  faltering  heart  and  feet ; and  Bhima  turned 
Gazing  upon  her ; and  that  hero  spake 
To  Yudhishthira : ' Master,  Brother,  King 
AYhy  doth  she  fail  ? For  never  all  her  life 
Wrought  our  sweet  lady  one  thing  wrong,  I think. 
Thou  knowest,  make  us  know,  wdiy  hath  she  failed  ? ’ 

‘ Then  Yudhishthira  answered:  ‘Yea,  one  thing. 

She  loved  our  brother  better  than  all  else, — 

Better  than  heaven : that  was  her  tender  sin, 

• Fault  of  a faultless  soul;  she  pays  for  that.’ 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


i8r 


" So  spake  the  monarch,  turning  not  his  eyes, 

Though  Draupadi  lay  dead — striding  straight  on 
For  Meru,  heart-full  of  the  things  of  heaven, 

Ferfect  and  firm.  Hut  yet  a little  space. 

And  Sahadev  fell  down,  whicli  Bhi'ma  seeing, 

Cried  once  again  : ‘ 0 King,  great  Madri’s  son 
Stumbles  and  sinks.  Why  hatli  he  sunk  ? — so  true. 
So  brave  and  steadfast,  and  so  free  from  pride ! ’ 

“ ‘ He  was  not  free,’  with  countenance  still  fixed. 

Quoth  Yudhishthira ; ‘ he  was  true  and  fast 
And  wise,  yet  wisdom  made  him  proud ; he  hid 
One  little  hurt  of  soul,  but  now  it  kills.’ 

“ So  saying,  he  strode  on — Kunti’s  strong  son — 

And  Bhi'ma,  and  Arjuna  followed  him. 

And  Nakula,  and  the  hound;  leaving  behind 
Sahadev  in  the  sands.  But  Nakula, 

Weakened  and  grieved  to  see  Sahadev  fall— 

His  loved  twin-brother — lagged  and  stayed;  and  next 
Prone  on  his  face  he  fell,  that  noble  face 
Which  had  no  match  for  beauty  in  the  land, — 
Glorious  and  godlike  Nakula ! Then  sighed 


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Bhima  anew : ‘ Brother  and  Lord  ! the  man 
Who  never  erred  from  virtue,  never  broke 
Our  fellowship,  and  never  in  the  world 
Was  matched  for  goodly  perfectness  of  form 
Or  gracious  feature, — Nakula  has  fallen  ! ’ 

“ But  Yudhishthira,  holding  fixed  his  eyes, — 

That  changeless,  faithful,  all-wise  king, — replied : 
‘ Yea,  hut  he  erred.  The  godlike  form  he  wore 
Beguiled  him  to  believe  none  like  to  him 
And  he  alone  desirable,  and  things 
Unlovely  to  be  slighted.  Self-love  slays 
Our  noble  brother.  Bhfma,  follow  ! Each 
Bays  what  his  debt  was.  ’ 


“Which  Arjuna  heard. 
Weeping  to  see  them  fall ; and  that  stout  son 
Of  Pandu,  that  destroyer  of  his  foes. 

That  prince,  who  drove  through  crimson  waves  of  war, 
In  old  days,  with  his  chariot-steeds  of  milk. 

He,  the  arch-hero,  sank  ! Beholding  this,— 

The  yielding  of  that  soul  unconquerable, 

Fearless,  divine,  from  Sakra’s  self  derived. 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


1S3 

Arjuna’s, — Bhi'ma  cried  aloud : ‘ 0 king  ! 

This  man  was  surely  perfect.  Never  once, 

Not  even  in  slumber  when  the  lips  are  loosed, 

Spake  he  one  word  that  was  not  true  as  truth. 

Ah,  heart  of  gold,  why  art  thou  broke  ? 0 King ! 

Whence  falleth  he  ? ’ 


“And  Yudhishthira  said. 

Not  pausing : ‘ Once  he  lied,  a lordly  lie ! 

He  bragged — our  brother — that  a single  day 
Should  see  him  utterly  consume,  alone. 

All  those  his  enemies, — which  could  not  be. 

Yet  from  a great  heart  sprang  the  unmeasured  speech. 
Howbeit,  a finished  hero  should  not  shame 
Himself  in  such  wise,  nor  his  enemy, 

If  he  will  faultless  fight  and  blameless  die : 

This  was  Arjnna’s  sin.  FoUow  thou  me!’ 


“ So  the  king  still  went  on.  But  Bhfma  next 
Fainted,  and  stayed  upon  the  way,  and  sank ; 
Yet,  sinking  cried,  behind  the  steadfast  prince : 
‘ Ah,  brother,  see ! I die  ! Look  upon  me, 


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184 

Thy  well-belovM!  Wherefore  falter  I, 
Who  strove  to  stand  ? ’ 


“And  Yudhishthira  said: 

‘ ]\Iore  than  was  well  the  goodly  things  of  earth 
Pleased  thee,  my  pleasant  brother  ! Light  the  offence, 
And  large  thy  virtue ; but  the  o’er-fed  flesh 
Plumed  itself  over  spirit.  Pritha’s  son. 

For  this  thou  failest,  who  so  near  didst  gain.’ 

“ Thenceforth  alone  the  long-armed  monarch  strode. 
Not  looking  back, — nay!  not  for  Bhi'ma’s  sake, — 
But  walking  with  his  face  set  for  the  Mount : 

And  the  hound  followed  him, — only  the  hound. 

“ After  the  deathly  sands,  the  Mount ! and  lo ! 

Sakra  shone  forth, — the  God,  filling  the  earth 
And  heavens  with  thunder  of  his  chariot-wheels. 

‘ Ascend,’  he  said,  ‘ with  me,  Pritha’s  great  son  ! ’ 

But  Yudhishthira  answered,  sore  at  heart 
For  those  his  kinsfolk,  fallen  on  the  way : 

‘ O Thousand-eyed,  0 Lord  of  all  the  Gods, 

Give  that  my  brothers  come  with  me,  who  fell ! 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


185 


Xot  without  them  is  Swarga  sweet  to  me. 

She  too,  the  dear  and  kind  and  queenly, — she 
Whose  perfect  virtue  Paradise  must  crown, — 

Grant  her  to  come  wdth  us ! Dost  thou  grant  this  ? ’ 

“ The  God  replied : ‘ In  heaven  thou  shalt  see 
Thy  kinsmen  and  the  queen — these  wdll  attain — 
With  Krishna.  Grieve  no  longer  for  thy  dead. 

Thou  chief  of  men ! their  mortal  covering  stripped. 
They  have  their  places ; but  to  thee  the  gods 
Allot  an  unknown  grace : thou  shalt  go  up 
Living  and  in  thy  form  to  the  immortal  homes.’ 

“ But  the  king  answered : ‘ 0 thou  Wisest  One, 

Who  know’st  what  was,  and  is,  and  is  to  be. 

Still  one  more  grace ! This  hound  hath  ate  with  me, 
Followed  me,  loved  me ; must  I leave  him  now  ? ’ 

“ ‘ Monarch,’  spake  Indra,  ‘ thou  art  now  as  We, — 
Deathless,  divine ; thou  art  become  a god ; 

Glory  and  power  and  gifts  celestial. 

And  aU  the  joys  of  heaven  are  thine  for  aye : 

What  hath  a beast  with  these  ? Leave  here  thy  hound.’ 


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“Yet  Yudhishthira  answered:  ‘0  Most  High, 

0 Thousand-eyed  and  Wisest ! can  it  be 
That  one  exalted  should  seem  pitiless  ? 

Nay,  let  me  lose  such  glory:  for  its  sake 

1 would  not  leave  one  living  thing  I loved.’ 


“ Then  sternly  Indra  spake  : ‘ He  is  unclean, 
And  into  Swarga  such  shall  enter  not. 

The  Krodhavasha’s  hand  destroys  the  fruits 
Of  sacrifice,  if  dogs  defile  the  fire. 

Bethink  thee,  Dharmaraj,  quit  now  this  beast  ’ 
That  which  is  seemly  is  not  hard  of  heart.’ 


“ Still  he  replied : ‘ ’Tis  written  that  to  spurn 
A suppliant  equals  in  offence  to  slay 
A twice-born ; wherefore,  not  for  Swarga’s  bliss 
Quit  I,  Mahendra,  this  poor  clinging  dog, — 

So  without  any  hope  or  friend  save  me. 

So  wistful,  fawning  for  my  faithfulness. 

So  agonized  to  die,  unless  I help 

Who  among  men  was  called  steadfast  and  just.’ 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


“ Quoth  Indra : ‘ Nay ! the  altar-flame  is  foul 
Where  a dog  passeth ; angry  angels  sweep 
The  ascending  smoke  aside,  and  all  the  fruits 
Of  offering,  and  the  merit  of  the  prayer 
Of  him  whom  a hound  toucheth.  Leave  it  here  ! 
He  that  will  enter  heaven  must  enter  pure. 

Why  didst  thou  quit  thy  brethren  on  the  way. 
Quit  Krishna,  quit  the  dear-loved  Draupadf, 
Attaining,  firm  and  glorious,  to  this  Mount 
Through  perfect  deeds,  to  linger  for  a brute  ? 

Hath  Yudhishthira  vanquished  self,  to  melt 
With  one  poor  passion  at  the  door  of  bliss  ? 
Stay’st  thou  for  this,  who  didst  not  stay  for  them, 
Draupadf,  Bhfma  ? ’ 


“ But  the  king  yet  spake : 

‘ ’Tis  known  that  none  can  hurt  or  help  the  dead. 
They,  the  delightful  ones,  who  sank  and  died. 
Following  my  footsteps,  could  not  live  again 
Though  I had  turned, — therefore  I did  not  turn ; 
But  could  help  profit,  I had  turned  to  help. 

There  be  four  sins,  0 Sakra,  grievous  sins : 

The  first  is  making  suppliants  despair, 


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The  second  is  to  slay  a nursing  wife. 

The  third  is  spoiling  Brahmans’  goods  by  force, 

Tlie  fourth  is  injuring  an  ancient  friend. 

These  four  I deem  not  direr  than  the  sin, 

If  one,  in  coming  forth  from  woe  to  weal, 

Abandon  any  meanest  comrade  then.’ 

“ Straight  as  he  spake,  brightly  great  Indra  smiled ; 
Vanished  the  hound; — ;and  in  its  stead  stood  there 
The  Lord  of  Death  and  Justice,  Dharma’s  self ! 

Sweet  were  the  words  which  fell  from  those  dread  lips. 
Precious  the  lovely  praise : ‘ 0 thou  true  king, 

Thou  that  dost  bring  to  harvest  the  good  seed 
Of  Pandu’s  righteousness ; thou  that  hast  ruth 
As  he  before,  on  all  which  lives ! — 0 Son, 

I tried  thee  in  the  Dwaita  wood,  what  time 
The  Yaksha  smote  them,  bringing  water ; then 
Thou  prayedst  for  Nakula’s  life — tender  and  just — 
Not  Bhima’s  nor  Arjuna’s,  true  to  both. 

To  Madri  as  to  Kunti,  to  both  queens. 

Hear  thou  my  word ! Because  thou  didst  not  mount 
This  car  divine,  lest  the  poor  hound  be  shent 
Who  looked  to  thee,  lo ! there  is  none  in  heaven 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


89 


Shall  sit  above  thee,  King ! — Bharata’s  son, 

Enter  thou  now  to  the  eternal  joys. 

Living  and  in  thy  form.  Justice  and  Love 
■\Velcome  thee,  Monarch!  thou  shalt  throne  with 
us !’ 


“ Thereat  those  mightiest  Gods,  in  glorious  train, 
IMahendra,  Dharma, — with  bright  retinue 
Of  Maruts,  Saints,  Aswin-Kumaras,  Nats, 

Spirits  and  Angels, — bore  the  king  aloft, 

The  thundering  chariot  first,  and  after  ic 
Those  airy-moving  Presences.  Serene, 

Clad  in  great  glory,  potent,  wonderful. 

They  glide  at  will, — at  will  they  know  and  see. 

At  wish  their  wills  are  wrought ; for  these  are  pure. 
Passionless,  hallowed,  perfect,  free  of  earth. 

In  such  celestial  midst  the  Pandu  king 
Soared  upward ; and  a sweet  light  filled  the  sky 
And  fell  on  earth,  cast  by  his  face  and  form. 
Transfigured  as  he  rose ; and  there  was  heard 
The  voice  of  Narad, — it  is  he  who  sings, 

Sitting  in  heaven,  the  deeds  that  good  men  do 
In  all  the  quarters, — Narad,  chief  of  bards, 


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190 

Narad  the  wise,  who  laudeth  purity, — 

So  cried  he : ‘ Thou  art  risen,  unmatched  king. 
Whose  greatness  is  above  ail  royal  saints. 

Hail,  son  of  Pandu  ! like  to  thee  is  none 
Now  or  before  among  the  sons  of  men, 

Whose  fame  hath  filled  the  three  wide  worlds,  who 
com’st 

Bearing  thy  mortal  body,  which  doth  shine 
With  radiance  as  a god’s.’ 

“ The  glad  king  heard 

Narad’s  loud  praise;  he  saw  the  immortal  gods, — 
Dharma,  IMahendra ; and  dead  chiefs  and  saints. 
Known  upon  earth,  in  blessed  heaven  he  saw ; 

But  only  those.  ‘ I do  desire,’  he  said, 

‘ That  region,  be  it  of  the  Blest  as  this. 

Or  of  the  Sorrowful  some  otherwhere. 

Where  my  dear  brothers  are,  and  Draupadf. 

I cannot  stay  elsewhere ! I see  them  not ! ’ 

“ Then  answer  made  Purandara,  the  God : 

‘ 0 thou  compassionate  and  noblest  One, 

Best  in  the  pleasures  which  thy  deeds  have  gained. 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


191 


How,  being  as  are  the  Gods,  canst  thou  live  bound 
By  mortal  chains  ? Thou  art  become  of  Us, 

Who  live  above  hatred  and  love,  in  bliss 
Pinnacled,  safe,  supreme.  Sun  of  thy  race,. 

Thy  brothers  cannot  reach  where  thou  hast  climbed  ! 
^lost  glorious  lord  of  men,  let  not  thy  peace 
Be  touched  by  stir  of  earth ! Look ! this  is  Heaven. 
See  where  the  saints  sit,  and  the  happy  souls, 
Siddhas  and  angels,  and  the  gods  who  live 
For  ever  and  for  ever.’ 


“ ‘ King  of  gods,’ 

Spake  Yudhishthira,  ‘but  I will  not  live 
A little  space  without  those  souls  I loved. 

O Slayer  of  the  demons  ! let  me  go 
Where  Bhima  and  my  brothers  are,  and  she, 

My  Draupadi,  the  princess  with  the  face 
Softer  and  darker  than  the  Vrihat-leaf, 

And  soul  as  sweet  as  are  its  odours.  Lo ! 
Where  they  have  gone,  there  will  I surely  go.’  ” 


( 192  ) 


THE  ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


THE  SWARGAROHANA  PARVA  OF  THE  MAHABHARATA  ; 
OR,  “THE  ENTRY  INTO  HEAVEN.” 

To  Narayen,  Lord  of  lords,  be  glory  given. 

To  Queen  Saraswati  he  praise  in  heaven  ; 

Unto  Vydsa  pay  the  reverence  due, — 

So  may  this  story  its  high  coierse  pursue. 

Then  Janmejaya  said  : “lam  fain  to  learn 
IIow  it  befell  ■with  my  great  forefathers, 

The  Pandu  chiefs  and  Dhritarashtra’s  sons, 

Being  to  heaven  ascended.  If  thou  know’st, — 

And  thou  know’st  all,  whom  wise  Vyasa  taught, — ■ ' 
Tell  me,  how  fared  it  with  those  mighty  souls  ? “ 

Answered  the  Sage : “ Hear  of  thy  forefathers — 
Great  Yudhishthira  and  the  Pandu  lords — 


THE  ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


«93 


I low  it  befell.  When  thus  the  blameless  king 
Was  entered  into  heaven,  there  he  beheld 
Duryodhana,  his  foe,  tfironed  as  a god 
Amid  the  gods ; splendidly  sate  that  prince, 

I’eaceful  and  proud,  the  radiance  of  his  brows 
Far-shining  like  the  sun’s  ; and  round  him  thronged 
Spirits  of  light,  with  Siidhyas, — companies 
Goodly  to  see.  But  when  the  king  beheld 
Duryodhana  in  bliss,  and  not  his  own, — 

Kot  Draupadf,  nor  Bhima,  nor  the  rest, — 

With  quick-averted  face  and  angry  eyes 
The  monarch  spake : ‘ Keep  heaven  for  such  as  these 
If  these  come  here ! I do  not  wish  to  dwell 
Where  he  is,  whom  I hated  rightfully. 

Being  a covetous  and  witless  prince. 

Whose  deed  it  was  that  in  wild  fields  of  war 
Brothers  and  friends  by  mutual  slaughter  fell. 

While  our  swords  smote,  sharpened  so  wrathfully 
By  all  those  wrongs  borne  wandering  ia  the  woods  : 
But  Draupadi’s  the  deepest  wrong,  for  he — 

He  who  sits  there — haled  her  before  the  court. 
Seizing  that  sweet  and  virtuous  lady — he ! — 

With  grievous  hand  wound  in  her  tresses.  Gods, 

N 


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I cannot  look  upon  him ! Sith  ’tis  so, 

Where  are  my  brothers  ? Thither  whl  I go ! ’ 

“ Smiling,  bright  Narada,  the  Sage,  replied : 

‘ Speak  thou  not  rashly  ! Say  not  this,  0 King  I 
Those  who  come  here  lay  enmities  aside. 

0 Yudhishthira,  long-armed  monarch,  hear ! 
Duryodhana  is  cleansed  of  sin ; he  sits 
Worshipful  as  the  saiuts,  worshipped  by  saints 
And  kings  who  lived  and  died  in  virtue’s  path, 
Attaining  to  the  joys  which  heroes  gain 
Who  yield  their  breath  in  battle.  Even  so 
He  that  did  wrong  thee,  knowing  not  thy  worth. 
Hath  won  before  thee  hither,  raised  to  bliss 
For  lordliness,  and  valour  free  of  fear. 

Ah,  well-beloved  Prince  ! ponder  thou  not 
The  memory  of  that  gaming,  nor  the  griefs 
Of  Draupadi,  nor  any  vanished  hurt 
Wrought  in  the  passing  shows  of  life  by  craft 
Or  wasteful  war.  Throne  happy  at  the  side 
Of  this  thy  happy  foeman, — wiser  now ; 

For  here  is  Paradise,  thou  chief  of  men  ! 

And  in  its  holy  air  hatreds  are  dead.’ 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


«9 


“ Thus  by  such  lips  addressed  the  I’audu  king 
Answered  uncomforted : ‘ Duryodhana, 

If  he  attains,  attains;  yet  not  the  less 
Kvil  he  lived  and  ill  he  died, — a heart 
Impious  and  harmful,  bringing  woes  to  all. 

To  friends  and  foes.  Ilis  was  the  crime  which  cost 
Our  land  its  warriors,  horses,  elephants; 

His  the  black  sin  that  set  us  in  the  field. 

Burning  for  rightful  vengeance.  Ye  are  gods. 

And  just;  and  ye  have  granted  heaven  to  him. 
Show  me  the  regions,  therefore,  where  they  dwell, 
!My  brothers,  those,  the  noble-souled,  the  loyal. 
Who  kept  the  sacred  laws,  who  swerved  no  step 
From  virtue’s  path,  who  spake  the  truth,  and  lived 
Foremost  of  warriors.  Where  is  Kunti’s  son. 

The  hero-hearted  Kama  ? Where  are  gone 
Satyaki,  Dhrishtadyumna,  with  their  sons  ? 

And  where  those  famous  chiefs  who  fought  for  me. 
D}dng  a splendid  death  ? I see  them  not. 

O Xarada,  I see  them  not!  No  King 
Draupada ! no  Virata ! no  glad  face 
Of  Dhrishtaketu  1 no  Shikandina, 

Prince  of  Panchala,  nor  his  princely  boys ! 


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Nor  Abhimanyu  the  unconquerable  ! 

President  Gods  of  heaven ! I see  not  here 
Piadha’s  bright  son,  nor  Yudhamanyu, 

Nor  Uttamanjaso,  his  brother  dear! 

Where  are  those  noble  Maharashtra  lords, 

Eajahs  and  rajpoots,  slain  for  love  of  me  ? 

Dwell  they  in  glory  elsewhere,  not  yet  seeir  ? 

If  they  be  here,  high  Gods  I and  those  with  them 
For  whose  sweet  sakes  I lived,  here  wiU  I Uve, 
Meek-hearted ; but  if  such  be  not  adjudged 
Worthy,  I am  not  worthy,  nor  my  soul 
Willing  to  rest  without  them.  Ah,  I burn. 

Now  in  glad  heaven,  with  grief,  bethinking  me 
Of  those  my  mother’s  words,  what  time  I poured 
Death-water  for  my  dead  at  Kurkshetra, — 

“ Pour  for  Prince  Kama,  Son  1 ” but  I wist  not 
His  feet  were  as  my  mother’s  feet,  his  blood 
Her  blood,  my  blood.  0 Gods ! I did  not  know, — 
Albeit  Sakra’s  self  had  failed  to  break 
Our  battle,  where  he  stood.  I crave  to  see 
Surya’s  child,  that  glorious  chief  who  fell 
By  Saryasaclii’s  hand,  unknown  of  me; 

And  Bhi'ma ! ah,  my  Blii'ma ! dearer  far 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


197 


Than  life  to  me ; Arjuna,  like  a god, 

Nakla  and  Saliadev,  twin  lords  of  war, 

"With  tenderest  Praupadi ! Show  me  tliose  souls ! 

I cannot  tarry  where  I have  them  not. 

Eliss  is  not  blissful,  just  and  mighty  Ones  ! 

Save  if  I rest  beside  them.  Heaven  is  there 
Where  Love  and  Faith  make  heaven.  Let  me  go  !’ 

“ And  answer  made  the  hearkening  heavenly  Ones  : 
‘Go,  if  it  seemeth  good  to  thee,  dear  Son ! 

The  King  of  gods  commands  we  do  thy  will.’ 

*■  So  saying  [the  Bard  went  on]  Dharma’s  own  voice 
Gave  ordinance,  and  from  the  shining  bands 
A golden  Deva  glided,  taking  best 
To  guide  the  king  there  where  his  kinsmen  were. 

So  wended  these,  the  holy  angel  first. 

And  in  his  steps  the  king,  close  following. 

Together  passed  they  through  the  gates  of  pearl. 
Together  heard  them  close ; then  to  the  left 
Descending,  by  a path  evil  and  dark. 

Hard  to  be  traversed,  rugged,  entered  they 
The  ‘ Sinners’  Eoad.’  The  tread  of  sinful  feet 


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]\Iatted  the  thick  thorns  carpeting  its  slope  ; 

The  smell  of  sin  hung  foul  on  them ; the  mire 
About  their  roots  was  trampled  filth  of  flesh 
Horrid  with  rottenness,  and  splashed  with  gore 
Curdling  in  crimson  puddles ; where  there  buzzed 
And  sucked  and  settled  creatures  of  the  swamp, 
Hideous  in  wing  and  sting,  gnat-clouds  and  flies. 

With  moths,  toads,  newts,  and  snakes  red-gulleted. 

And  livid,  loathsome  worms,  writhing  in  slime 
Torth  from  skull-holes  and  scalps  and  tumbled  bones. 
A burning  forest  shut  the  roadside  in 
On  either  hand,  and  ’mid  its  crackling  boughs 
Perched  ghastly  birds,  or  flapped  amongst  the  flames, — 
Vultures  and  kites  and  crows, — with  brazen  plumes 
And  beaks  of  iron ; and  these  grisly  fowl 
Screamed  to  the  shrieks  of  Prets,  lean,  famished  ghosts. 
Featureless,  eyeless,  having  pin-point  mouths, 
Hungering,  but  hard  to  fill, — all  swooping  down 
To  gorge  upon  the  meat  of  wicked  ones ; 

Whereof  the  limbs  disparted,  trunks  and  heads. 

Offal  and  marrow,  littered  all  the  way. 

P>y  such  a path  the  king  passed,  sore  afeared 
If  he  had  known  of  fear,  for  the  air  stank 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


199 


With  carrion  stench,  sickly  to  breathe;  and  lo  ! 
Presently  ’thwart  the  pathway  foamed  a flood 
Of  boiling  waves,  rolling  down  corpses.  This 
They  crossed,  and  then  the  Asipatra  wood 
Spread  black  in  sight,  whereof  the  undergrowth 
Was  sword-blades,  spitting,  every  blade,  some  wretch ; 
All  around  poison  trees ; and  next  to  this. 

Strewn  deep  with  fiery  sands,  an  awful  waste. 
Wherethrough  the  wicked  toiled  with  blistering  feet, 
’Midst  rocks  of  brass,  red  hot,  which  scorched,  and  pools 
Of  bubbling  pitch  that  gulfed  them.  Last  the  gorge 
Of  Kutashala  Mali, — frightful  gate 
Of  utmost  Hell,  with  utmost  horrors  filled. 

Deadly  and  nameless  were  the  plagues  seen  there  ; 
Which  when  the  monarch  reached,  nigh  overborne 
By  terrors  and  the  reek  of  tortured  flesh. 

Unto  the  angel  spake  he  : ‘ Wliither  goes 
This  hateful  road,  and  where  be  they  I seek, 

Yet  find  not  ? ’ Answer  made  the  heavenly  One : 

‘ Hither,  great  King,  it  was  commanded  me 
To  bring  thy  steps.  If  thou  be’st  overborne. 

It  is  commanded  that  I lead  thee  back 

To  where  the  Gods  wait.  Wilt  thou  turn  and  mount  ? * 


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“ Tlien  (0  thou  Son  of  Bharat !)  Yudhishthir 
Turned  heavenward  his  face,  so  was  he  moved 
With  horror  and  the  hanging  stench,  and  spent 
By  toil  of  that  black  travel.  But  his  feet 
Scarce  one  stride  measured,  when  about  the  place 
Pitiful  accents  rang  : ‘ Alas,  sweet  King ! — 

Ah,  saintly  Lord ! — Ah,  Thou  that  hast  attained 
Place  with  the  BlessM,  Pandu’s  offspring ! — pause 
A little  while,  for  love  of  us  who  cry ! 

Nought  can  harm  thee  in  all  this  baneful  place  ; 

But  at  thy  coming  there  ’gan  blow  a breeze 
Balmy' and  soothing,  bringing  us  relief. 

O Pritha’s  son,  mightiest  of  men  ! we  breathe 
Glad  breath  again  to  see  thee ; we  have  peace 
One  moment  in  our  agonies.  Stay  here 
One  moment  more,  Bharata’s  child ! Go  not. 

Thou  Victor  of  the  Kurus ! Being  here, 

Hell  softens  and  our  bitter  pains  relax.’ 

“ These  pleadings,  wailing  all  around  the  place, 

Heard  the  King  Yudhishthira, — words  of  woo 

Humble  and  eager;  and  compassion  seized 

His  lordly  mind.  ‘ Poor  souls  unknown  !’  he  sighed. 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


201 


And  hellwards  turned  anew  ; for  what  those  were, 
"Whence  such  beseeching  voices,  and  of  whom. 

That  son  of  Pandu  wist  not, — only  wist 
Tliat  all  the  noxious  murk  was  filled  with  forms. 
Shadowy,  in  anguish,  crying  grace  of  him. 
"Wherefore  he  called  aloud,  ‘ Who  speaks  with  me  ? 
What  do  ye  here,  and  what  things  suffer  ye  ? ’ 

Then  from  the  black  depth  piteously  there  came 
Answers  of  whispered  suffering : ‘ Kama  I, 

0 King ! ’ and  yet  another,  ‘ 0 my  Liege, 

Thy  Bhi'ma  speaks ! ’ and  then  a voice  again, 

‘ I am  Arjuna,  Brother ! ’ and  again, 

‘ Xakla  is  here  and  Sahadev ! ’ and  last 
A moan  of  music  from  the  darkness  sighed, 

‘ Draupadi  cries  to  thee ! ’ Thereat  broke  forth 
The  monarch’s  spirit, — knowing  so  the  sound 
Of  each  familiar  voice, — ‘ What  doom  is  this  ? 

"What  have  my  well-beloved  wrought  to  earn 
Death  with  the  damned,  or  life  loathlier  than  death 
In  Narak’s  midst  ? Hath  Kama  erred  so  deep, 
Bhima,  Arjuna,  or  the  glorious  twins. 

Or  she,  the  slender-waisted,  sweetest,  best. 

My  princess, — that  Duryodhana  should  sit 


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Peaceful  in  Paradise  with  all  his  crew, 

Throned  by  Mahendra  and  the  shining  gods  ? 

How  should  these  fail  of  bliss,  and  he  attain  ? 
What  were  their  sins  to  his,  their  splendid  faults  ? 
For  if  they  slipped,  it  was  in  virtue’s  way 
Serving  good  laws,  performing  holy  rites. 

Boundless  in  gifts  and  faithful  to  the  death. 

These  be  their  well-known  voices ! Are  ye  here. 
Souls  I loved  best  ? Dream  I,  belike,  asleep. 

Or  rave  I,  maddened  with  accursed  sights 
And  death-reeks  of  this  hellish  air  1 ’ 

“ Thereat 

For  pity  and  for  pain  the  king  waxed  wroth. 

That  soul  fear  could  not  shake,  nor  trials  tire. 
Burned  terrible  with  tenderness,  the  while 
His  eyes  searched  all  the  gloom,  his  planted  feet 
Stood  fast  in  the  mid  horrors.  Well-nigh,  then. 

He  cursed  the  gods ; well-nigh  that  steadfast  mind 
Broke  from  its  faith  in  virtue.  But  he  stayed 
Th’  indignant  passion,  softly  speaking  this 
Unto  the  angel : ‘ Go  to  those  thou  serv’st ; 

Tell  them  I come  not  thither.  Say  I stand 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


203 


Here  in  the  throat  of  hell,  and  here  will  bide — 
Nay,  if  I perish — while  my  well-helov’d 
Win  ease  and  peace  by  any  pains  of  mine.’ 

“ Whereupon,  nought  replied  the  shining  One, 
But  straight  repaired  unto  the  upper  light. 
Where  Sakra  sate  above  the  gods,  and  spake 
Before  the  gods  the  message  of  the  king.” 


“ Afterward  what  befell  ? ” the  prince  inquired. 

“ Afterward,  Princely  One ! ” replied  the  Sage, 

“ At  hearing  and  at  knowing  that  high  deed 
(Great  Yudhishthira  braving  hell  for  love). 

The  Presences  of  Paradise  uprose, 

Each  Splendour  in  his  place, — god  Sakra  chief ; 
Together  rose  they,  and  together  stepped  . 

Down  from  their  thrones,  treading  the  nether  road 
Where  Yudhishthira  tarried.  Sakra  led 
The  shining  van,  and  Dharma,  Lord  of  laws. 

Paced  glorious  next.  0 Son  of  Bharata, 


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AVhile  that  celestial  company  came  clown — 

Pure  as  the  white  stars  sweeping  through  the  sky, 
And  brighter  than  their  brilliance — look ! Hell’s  shades 
^lelted  before  them;  warm  gleams  drowned  the  gloom; 
Soft,  lovely  scenes  rolled  over  the  ill  sights ; 

Peace  calmed  the  cries  of  torment ; in  its  bed 
The  boiling  river  shrank,  quiet  and  clear ; 

The  Asipatra  Vana — awful  wood — 

Blossomed  with  colours ; all  those  cruel  blades, 

And  dreadful  rocks,  and  piteous  scattered  wreck 
Of  w'rithing  bodies,  where  the  king  had  passed. 
Vanished  as  dreams  fade.  Cool  and  fragrant  went 
A wind  before  their  faces,  as  these  Gods 
Drew  radiant  to  the  presence  of  the  king, — 

Maruts;  and  Vasus  eight,  who  shine  and  serve 
Pound  Indra ; Pudras ; Aswins ; and  those  Six 
Immortal  Lords  of  light  beyond  our  light, 

Th’  Adityas ; Saddhyas ; Siddhas, — those  were  there. 
With  angels,  saints,  and  habitants  of  lieaven. 

Smiling  resplendent  round  the  steadfast  prince. 

“ Then  spake  the  God  of  gods  these  gracious  words 
To  Yudhishthira,  standing  in  that  place : — 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


205 


“ ‘ King  Yudhishthira!  0 thou  long-armed  Lord, 

This  is  enough  ! All  heaven  is  glad  of  thee. 

It  is  enough  ! Come,  thou  most  blessM  one. 

Unto  thy  peace,  well-gained.  Lay  now  aside 
Thy  loving  wrath,  and  hear  the  speech  of  Heaven. 

It  is  appointed  that  all  kings  see  hell. 

The  reckonings  for  the  life  of  men  are  twain  : 

Of  each  man’s  righteous  deeds  a tally  true, 

A tally  true  of  each  man’s  evil  deeds. 

"W^ho  hath  wrought  little  right,  to  him  is  paid 
A little  bliss  in  Swarga,  then  the  woe 
"Which  purges ; who  much  right  hath  wrought,  from 
him 

The  little  dl  by  lighter  pains  is  cleansed, 

And  then  the  joys.  Sweet  is  peace  after  pain. 

And  bitter  pain  which  follows  peace ; yet  they, 

■\Mio  sorely  sin,  taste  of  the  heaven  they  miss. 

And  they  that  suffer  quit  their  debt  at  last. 

Lo ! We  have  loved  thee,  laying  hard  on  thee 
Grievous  assaults  of  soul,  and  this  black  road. 
Bethink  thee : by  a semblance  once,  dear  Son  ! 

Drona  thou  didst  beguile ; and  once,  dear  Son  ! 
Semblance  of  hell  hath  so  thy  sin  assoiled, 


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Whicli  passeth  with  these  shadows.  Even  thus 
Thy  Bhi'ma  came  a little  space  t’  account, 

Draupadi,  Krishna, — all  whom  thou  didst  love, 

Kever  again  to  lose  ! Come,  First  of  Men  ! 

These  be  delivered  and  their  quittance  made. 

Also  the  princes,  son  of  Bharata ! 

Who  fell  beside  thee  fighting,  have  attained. 

Come  thou  to  see ! Kama,  whom  thou  didst  mourn, — 
That  mightiest  archer,  master  in  all  wars, — 

He  hath  attained,  shining  as  doth  the  sun ; 

Come  thou  and  see  ! Grieve  no  more,  King  of  Men  ! 
Whose  love  helped  them  and  thee,  and  hath  its  meed. 
Bajas  and  maharajahs,  warriors,  aids, — 

All  thine  are  thine  for  ever.  Krishna  waits 
To  greet  thee  coming,  ’companied  by  gods. 

Seated  in  heaven,  from  toils  and  conflicts  saved. 

Son  ! there  is  golden  fruit  of  noble  deeds. 

Of  prayer,  alms,  sacrifice.  The  most  just  Gods 
Keep  thee  thy  place  above  the  highest  saints. 

Where  thou  shalt  sit,  divine,  compassed  about 
With  royal  souls  in  bliss,  as  Hari  sits; 

Seeing  Mandhata  crowned,  and  Bhagirath, 

Daushyanti,  Bharata,  with  all  thy  line. 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


207 


Now  therefore  wash  thee  in  this  holy  stream, 
dunga’s  pure  fount,  whereof  the  bright  waves  bless 
All  the  Three  Worlds.  It  will  so  change  thy  flesh 
To  likeness  of  th’  immortal,  thou  shalt  leave 
Passions  and  aches  and  tears  behind  thee  there.’ 

“ And  when  the  awful  Sakra  thus  had  said, 

Lo ! Dharma  spake, — th’  embodied  Lord  of  Ilight : 

“ ‘ Bho ! bho  ! I am  well  pleased  ! Hail  to  thee.  Chief ! 
Worthy,  and  wise,  and  firm.  Thy  faith  is  full, 

Thy  virtue,  and  thy  patience,  and  thy  truth. 

And  thy  self-mastery.  Thrice  I put  thee.  King ! 
Unto  the  trial.  In  the  Dwaita  wood. 

The  day  of  sacrifice, — then  thou  stood’st  fast ; 

Next,  on  thy  brethren’s  death  and  Draupadi’s, 

When,  as  a dog,  I followed  thee,  and  found 
Thy  spirit  constant  to  the  meanest  friend. 

Here  was  the  third  and  sorest  touchstone.  Son ! 

That  thou  shouldst  hear  thy  brothers  cry  in  hell, 
And  yet  abide  to  help  them.  Pritha’s  child. 

We  love  thee  ! Thou  art  fortunate  and  pure, 

Past  trials  now.  Thou  art  approved,  and  they 


2o8  two  books  from  THE 

\ 

Thou  lov’st  have  tasted  hell  only  a space. 

Not  meriting  to  suffer  more  than  when 
An  evil  dreani  doth  come,  and  Indra’s  beam 
Ends  it  with  radiance — as  this  vision  ends. 

It  is  appointed  that  all  flesh  see  death. 

And  therefore  thou  hast  borne  the  passing  pangs, 
Briefest  for  thee,  and  brief  for  those  of  thine, — 
Bhima  the  faithful,  and  the  valiant  twins 
Nakla  and  Sahadev,  and  those  great  hearts 
Kama,  Arjuna,  with  thy  princess  dear, 

Draupadf.  Come,  thou  best-beloved  Son, 

Blessed  of  all  thy  line ! Bathe  in  this  stream, — 

It  is  great  Gunga,  flowing  through  Three  Worlds.’ 

“ Thus  high-accosted,  the  rejoicing  king 
(Thy  ancestor,  0 Liege ! ) proceeded  straight 
Unto  that  river’s  brink,  which  floweth  pure 
Through  the  Three  Worlds,  mighty,  and  sweet,  and 
praised. 

There,  being  bathed,  the  body  of  the  king 
I’ut  off  its  mortal,  coming  up  arrayed 
In  grace  celestial,  washed  from  soils  of  sin. 

From  passion,  pain,  and  change.  So,  hand  in  hand 


ILIAD  OF  INDIA. 


209 


With  brother-gods,  glorious  went  Yudhishthir^ 

’ Lauded  by  softest  minstrelsy,  and  songs 
Of  unknown  music,  where  those  heroes  stood — 
The  princes  of  the  Pandavas,  his  kin — 

And  lotus-eyed  and  lovliest  Draupadf, 

AVaiting  to  greet  him,  gladdening  and  glad. 


0 


( 210  ) 


FJ^OM  THE  ^'SAUPT/KA  PAR  FA” 
OF  THE  MAHABHARATA, 

OR 

''NIGHT  OF  SLAUGHTER." 


To  Narayen,  Best  of  Lords,  he  glory  given, 

To  great  Saraswati,  the  Queen  in  Heaven  ; 

Unto  Vydsa,  too,  he  paid  his  meed, 

So  shall  this  story  worthily  proceed, 

“ Those  vanquished  warriors  then,”  Sanjaya  said, 

“ Fled  southwards ; and,  near  sunset,  past  the  tents. 
Unyoked;  abiding  close  in  fear  and  rage. 

There  was  a wood  beyond  the  camp, — untrod, 
Quiet, — and  in  its  leafy  harbour  lay 
The  Princes,  some  among  them  bleeding  still 
From  spear  and  arrow-gashes ; all  sore-spent, 


THE  NIGHT  OF  SLAUGHTER.  2ti 

Fetchijig  faint  breath,  and  fighting  o’er  again 
In  thought  that  battle.  But  there  came  the  noise 
Of  Pandavas  pursiiing, — fierce  and  loud 
Outcries  of  victory — whereat  those  chiefs 
Sullenly  rose,  and  yoked  their  steeds  again. 

Driving  due  east ; and  eastward  still  they  drave 
Under  the  night,  till  drouth  and  desperate  toil 
Stayed  horse  and  man ; then  took  they  lair  again. 

The  panting  horses,  and  the  Warriors,  wroth 
With  chilled  wounds,  and  the  death-stroke  of  their 
King. 

“ Xow  were  they  come,  my  Prince,”  Sanjaya  said, 

“ Unto  a jungle  thick  with  stems,  whereon 
The  tangled  creepers  coiled ; here  entered  they — 
Watering  their  horses  at  a stream — and  pushed 
Deep  in  the  thicket.  Many  a beast  and  bird 
Sprang  startled  at  their  feet ; the  long  grass  stirred 
With  serpents  creeping  off ; the  woodland  flowers 
Shook  where  the  pea- fowl  hid,  and,  where  frogs  plunged. 
The  swamp  rocked  all  its  reeds  and  lotus-buds. 

A banian-tree,  with  countless  dropping  boughs 
Earth-rooted,  spied  they,  and  beneath  its  aisles 


312 


FROM  THE  "SAUPTIKA  PARVA." 


A pool ; hereby  they  stayed,  tethering  their  steeds, 
And  dipping  water,  made  the  evening  prayer. 

“ But  when  the  ‘ Day-maker  ’ sank  in  the  west 
And  Night  descended — gentle,  soothing  Night, 
Who  comforts  all,  with  silver  splendour  decked 
Of  stars  and  constellations,  and  soft  folds 
Of  velvet  darkness  drawn — then  those  wild  things 
Which  roam  in  darkness  woke,  wandering  afoot 
Under  the  gloom.  Horrid  the  forest  grew 
With  roar,  and  yelp,  and  yell,  around  that  place 
Where  Kripa,  Kritavarman,  and  the  son 
Of  Drona  lay,  beneath  the  banian-tree ; 

Full  many  a piteous  passage  instancing 
In  their  lost  battle-day  of  dreadful  blood ; 

Till  sleep  fell  heavy  on  the  wearied  lids 
Of  Bhoja's  child  and  Kripa.  Then  these  Lords — 
To  princely  life  and  silken  couches  used — 

Sought  on  the  bare  earth  slumber,  spent  and  sad. 
As  houseless  outcasts  lodge. 


“ But„  Oh,  my  King ! 

There  came  no  sleep  to  Drona’s  angry  son. 


THE  NIGHT  OF  SLAUGHTER. 


2>3 


Great  Aswattbaman.  As  a snake  lies  coiled 
And  hisses,  breathing,  so  his  panting  breath 
Hissed  rage  and  hatred  round  him,  while  he  lay, 
Chin  uppermost,  arm-pillowed,  with  fierce  eyes 
Eoving  the  wood,  and  seeing  sightlessly. 

Thus  chanced  it  that  his  wandering  glances  turned 
Into  the  fig-tree’s  shadows,  where  there  perched 
A thousand  crows,  thick-roosting,  on  its  limbs ; 
Some  nested,  some  on  branchlets,  deep  asleep. 
Heads  under  wings — all  fearless ; nor,  0 Prince ! 
Had  Aswattbaman  more  than  marked  the  birds. 
When,  lo ! there  fell  out  of  the  velvet  night. 

Silent  and  terrible,  an  eagle-owl. 

With  wide,  soft,  deadly,  dusky  wings,  and  eyes 
Flame-coloured,  and  long  claws,  and  dreadful  beak ; 
Like  a winged  sprite,  or  great  Garood  himself 
Offspring  of  Bharata ! it  lighted  there 
Upon  the  banian’s  bough;  hooted,  but  low. 

The  fury  smothering  in  its  throat ; — then  fell 
With  murderous  beak  and  claws  upon  those  crows, 
Bending  the  wings  from  this,  the  legs  from  that, 
From  some  the  heads,  of  some  ripping  the  crops ; 
Till,  tens  and  scores,  the  fowl  rained  down  to  earth 


214 


FROM  THE  "SAUPTIKA  PARVA.'- 


Bloody  and  plucked,  and  all  the  ground  waxed  black 
With  piled  crow-carcases ; whilst  the  great  owl 
Hooted  for  joy  of  vengeance,  and  again 
Spread  the  wide,  deadly,  dusky  wings. 

“Up  sprang 

Tlie  son  of  Drona : ‘ Lo ! this  owl,’  quoth  he, 

‘ Teacheth  me  wisdom ; lo ! one  slayeth  so 
Insolent  foes  asleep.  The  Paudu  Lords 
Are  all  too  strong  in  arms  by  day  to  kill ; 

They  triumph,  being  many.  Yet  I swore 
Before  the  King,  my  Father,  I would  “ kill  ” 

And  “ kill  ” — even  as  a foolish  fly  should  swear 
To  quench  a flame.  It  scorched,  and  I shall  die 
If  I dare  open  battle ; but  by  art 
Men  vanquish  fortune  and  the  mightiest  odds. 

If  there  be  two  ways  to  a wise  man’s  wish. 

Yet  only  one  way  sure,  he  taketh  this; 

And  if  it  be  an  evil  way,  condemned 
For  Brahmans,  yet  the  Kshattriya  may  do 
What  vengeance  bids  against  his  foes.  Our  foes. 

The  Pandavas,  are  furious,  treacherous,  base. 

Halting  at  nothing;  and  how  say  the  wise 


THE  NIGHT  OF  SLAUGHTER. 


215 


In  holy  Shasters  ? — “ Wounded,  wearied,  fed, 

Or  fasting;  sleeping,  waking,  setting  forth, 

Or  new  arriving ; slay  thine  enemies ; ” 

And  so  again,  “’At  midnight  when  they  sleep. 
Dawn  when  they  watch  not ; noon  if  leaders  fall ; 
Eve,  should  they  scatter ; all  the  times  and  hours 
Are  times  and  hours  fitted  for  killing  foes.”  ’ 

“ So  did  the  son  of  Drona  steel  his  soul 
To  break  upon  the  sleeping  Pandu  chiefs 
And  slay  them  in  the  darkness.  Being  set 
On  this  unlordly  deed,  and  clear  in  scheme. 

He  from  their  slumbers  roused  the  warriors  twain, 
Kripa  and  Kritavarman.” 


THE  MORNING  PRA  YER. 


Our  Lord  the  Prophet  (peace  to  him !)  doth  write — 
Surah  the  Seventeenth,  intituled  “ Night  ” — 

“ Pray  at  the  noon ; pray  at  the  sinking  sun  ; 

In  night-time  pray ; but  most  when  night  is  done ; 
Por  daybreak’s  prayer  is  surely  borne  on  high 
By  angels,  changing  guard  within  the  sky ; ” 

And  in  another  place : — “ Dawn’s  prayer  is  more 
Than  the  wide  world,  with  all  its  treasured  store.” 

Therefore  the  Faithful,  when  the  growing  light 
Gives  to  discern  a black  hair  from  a white, 

Haste  to  the  mosque,  and,  bending  Mecca-way, 
Eecite  Al-Fdtihah  while  ’tis  scarce  yet  day : 

“ Praise  he  to  Allah — Lord  of  all  that  live : 

Merciful  King  and  Judge  ! To  Thee  we  give 


THE  MORNING  PRAYER. 


217 


Worship  and  honour  ! Succour  us,  and  giiide 
Where  those  have  walked  who  rest  Thy  throne  beside : 
The  way  of  Peace  ; the  way  of  truthful  speech  ; 

The  way  of  Righteousness.  So  we  beseech.” 

}Ie  that  saith  this,  before  the  East  is  red, 

A hundred  prayers  of  Azan  hath  he  said. 

Hear  now  a story  of  it — told,  I ween. 

For  your  souls’  comfort  by  Jelal-ud-din, 

In  the  great  pages  of  the  Mesnevi; 

For  therein,  plain  and  certain,  shall  ye  see 
How  precious  is  the  prayer  at  break  of  day 
In  Allah’s  ears,  and  in  his  sight  alway 
How  sweet  are  reverence  and  gentleness 
Shown  to  his  creatures.  Ali  (whom  I bless !) 

The  son  of  Abu  TaUb — he  surnamed 
“ Lion  of  God,”  in  many  battles  famed. 

The  cousin  of  our  Lord  the  Prophet  (grace 
Be  his !) — uprose  betimes  one  morn,  to  pace — 

As  he  w'as  wont — unto  the  mosque,  wherein 
Our  Lord  (bliss  live  with  him  !)  watched  to  begin 
Al-Fdtihah.  Darkling  was  the  sky,  and  straight 
The  lane  between  the  city  and  mosque-gate, 


2i8 


THE  MORNING  PRAYER. 


By  rough  stones  broken  and  deep  pools  of  rain ; 

And  there  through  toilfully,  with  steps  of  pain, 

Leaning  upon  his  staff  an  old  Jew  went 
To  synagogue,  on  pious  errand  bent : 

For  those  be  “People  of  the  Book,” — and  some 
Are  chosen  of  Allah’s  will,  who  have  not  come 
Unto  full  light  of  wisdom.  Therefore  he 
Ah — the  Caliph  of  proud  days  to  be — 

Knowing  this  good  old  man,  and  why  he  stirred 
Thus  early,  e’er  the  morning  mills  were  heard. 

Out  of  his  nobleness  and  grace  of  soul 
AFould  not  thrust  past,  though  the  Jew  blocked  the 
whole 

Breadth  of  the  lane,  slow-hobbling.  So  they  went. 
That  ancient  first ; and  in  soft  discontent. 

After  him  Ali — noting  how  the  sun 

Flared  nigh,  and  fearing  prayer  might  be  begun ; 

Yet  no  command  upraising,  no  harsh  cry 
To  stand  aside ; — because  the  dignity 
Of  silver  hairs  is  much,  and  morning  praise 
Was  precious  to  the  Jew,  too.  Thus  their  ways 
Wended  the  pair;  Great  Ali,  sad  and  slow, 

Following  the  greybeard,  while  the  East,  a-glow, 


THE  MORNING  PRAYER. 


219 


Blazed  with  bright  spears  of  gold  athwart  the  blue, 
And  the  Muezzin’s  call  came  “ lllahu  ! 

AUah-il- Allah!" 


In  the  mosque,  our  Lord 

(On  whom  he  peace !)  stood  by  the  Mehrab-board 
In  act  to  how,  and  Fdtihah  forth  to  say. 

But  as  his  lips  moved,  some  strong  hand  did  lay 
Over  his  mouth  a palm  invisible, 

So  that  no  voice  on  the  Assembly  fell. 

“ Ya  ! Rahbi  'lalamina  ” thrice  he  tried 
To  read,  and  thrice  the  sound  of  reading  died. 

Stayed  by  this  unseen  touch.  Thereat  amazed 
Our  Lord  Muhammed  turned,  arose,  and  gazed ; 

And  saw — alone  of  those  within  the  shrine — 

A splendid  Presence,  with  large  eyes  divine 
Beaming,  and  golden  pinions  folded  down. 

Their  speed  still  tokened  by  the  fluttered  gown. 
Gabriel  he  knew,  the  spirit  who  doth  stand 
Chief  of  the  Sons  of  Heav’n,  at  God’s  right  hand : 

“ Gabriel ! why  stayest  thou  me  ? ” the  Prophet  said, 
“ Since  at  this  hour  the  Fdtihah  should  be  read.” 


220 


THE  MORNING  PRAYER. 


But  the  bright  Presence,  smiling,  pointed  where 
Ali  towards  the  outer  gate  drew  near. 

Upon  the  threshold  shaking  ofif  his  shoes 
And  giving  “ alms  of  entry,”  as  men  use. 

“ Yea ! ” spake  th’  Archangel,  “ sacred  is  the  sound 
Of  morning-praise,  and  worth  the  world’s  wide  round, 
Though  earth  were  pearl  and  silver ; therefore  I 
Stayed  thee,  Muhammed,  in  the  act  to  cry. 

Lest  Ali,  tarrying  in  the  lane,  should  miss. 

For  his  good  deed,  its  blessing  and  its  bliss.” 

Thereat  th’  Archangel  vanished  : — and  our  Lord 
Bead  Fdtihah  forth  beneath  the  Mehrab-board. 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM 


FROM  THE 


SHLOKAS  OF  THE  HITOPADESA. 


Dfli  {cation 

(TO  FIRST  EDITIOFT). 

To  rjou,  dear  Wife — to  whom  beside  so  well  ? — ■ 

True  Counsellor  and  tried,  at  every  shift, 

I bring  my  “ Book  of  Counsels : ” let  it  tell 
Largeness  of  love  by  littleness  of  gift : 

And  take  this  growth  of  foreign  skies  from  me, 

(A  scholar's  thanks  for  gentle  help  in  toil,) 

Whose  leaf,  “ though  dark,”  like  Milton's  Hcemony, 
“ Bears  a bright  golden  flower,  if  not  in  this  soil.” 


April  9,  1 86 1. 


PREFACE 

TO  THE  “ BOOK  OF  GOOD  COUNSELS.'’ 


The  Ilitopadeia  is  a work  of  high  antiquity  and 
extended  popularity.  The  prose  is  doubtless  as  old  as 
our  own  era ; but  the  intercalated  verses  and  proverbs 
compose  a selection  from  writings  of  an  age  extremely 
remote.  The  Mahdhhdrata  and  the  textual  Veds  are  of 
those  quoted;  to  the  first  of  which  Professor  M.  Williams 
(in  his  admirable  edition  of  the  WaZa,  i860)  assigns  the 
modest  date  of  350  B.C.,  while  he  claims  for  the  Rig- 
Veda  an  antiquity  as  high  as  1 300  B.C.  The  Hitopadda 
may  thus  be  fairly  styled  “ The  Father  of  all  Fables ; ” 
for  from  its  numerous  translations  have  probably  come 
Esop  and  Pilpay,  and  in  latter  days  Reineke  Fuchs. 
Originally  compiled  in  Sanskrit,  it  was  rendered,  by 
order  of  Nushirvan,  in  the  sixth  century  A.D.,  into  Persic. 
From  the  Persic  it  passed,  a.d.  850,  into  the  Arabic, 
and  thence  into  Hebrew  and  Greek.  In  its  own  land 
it  obtained  as  wide  a circulation.  The  Emperor  Akbar, 
impressed  with  the  wisdom  of  its  maxims  and  the 


224 


PREFACE. 


ingenuity  of  its  apologues,  commended  the  work  of 
translating  it  to  his  own  Vizier,  Abdul  Fazel.  That 
Minister  accordingly  put  the  book  into  a familiar  style, 
and  published  it  with  explanations,  under  the  title  of 
the  Criterion  of  Wisdom.  The  Emperor  had  also  sug- 
gested the  abridgment  of  the  long  series  of  shlokes 
which  here  and  there  interrupt  the  narrative,  and  the 
Vizier  found  this  advice  sound,  and  followed  it,  like 
the  present  Translator.  To  this  day,  in  India,  the 
Hitopadda,  under  its  own  or  other  names  (as  the  Anvdri 
S^diaili),  retains  the  delighted  attention  of  young  and 
old,  and  has  some  representative  in  all  the  Indian 
vernaculars.  A selection  from  the  metrical  Sanskrit 
proverbs  and  maxims  is  here  given. 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM 


FROM  THE 

SHLOKAS  OF  THE  HITOPADESA. 


This  Book  of  Counsel  read,  and  you  shall  see. 

Fair  speech  and  Sanskrit  lore,  and  Policy. 

“ Wise  men,  holding  wisdom  highest,  scorn  dehghts, 
more  false  than  fair ; 

Daily  live  as  if  Death’s  fingers  twined  already  in  thy 
hair ! 

“ Truly,  richer  than  all  riches,  better  than  the  best  of 
gain. 

Wisdom  is  ; unbought,  secure — once  won,  none  loseth 
her  again. 

p 


226 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


“ Bringing  dark  things  into  daylight,  solving  doubts 
that  vex  the  mind, 

Like  an  open  eye  is  Wisdom — he  that  hath  her  not 
is  blind.” 


“ Childless  art  thou  ? dead  thy  children  ? lea\dng  thee 
to  vrant  and  doole  ? 

Less  thy  misery  than  his  is,  who  lives  father  to  a fool.” 

“ One  wise  son  makes  glad  his  father,  forty  fools  avail 
him  not : 

One  moon  silvers  all  that  darkness  which  the  silly 
stars  did  dot.” 

“ Ease  and  health,  obeisant  children,  wisdom,  and  a fair- 
voiced wife — 

Thus,  great  King ! are  counted  up  the  five  felicities 
of  life. 

For  the  son  the  sire  is  honoured ; though  the  bow-cane 
bendeth  true. 

Let  the  strained  string  crack  in  using,  and  what  ser- 
vice shall  it  do  ? ” 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


227 

‘‘That  which  will  not  be,  will  not  be — and  what  is  to 
be,  will  be : 

Why  not  drink  this  easy  physic,  antidote  of  misery  ? ” 


“ Xay ! but  faint  not,  idly  sighing,  ‘ Destiny  is  mightiest,’ 

Sesaraum  holds  oil  in  plenty,  but  it  yieldeth  none 
unpressed.” 

“Ah!  it  is  the  Coward’s  babble,  ‘Fortune  taketh,  For- 
tune gave ; ’ 

Fortune  1 rate  her  like  a master,  and  she  serves  thee 
like  a slave.” 

“ Two-fold  is  the  life  we  live  in — Fate  and  Will  together 
run: 

Two  wheels  bear  life’s  chariot  onward — Will  it  move 
on  only  one  ? ” 

“ Look  I the  clay  dries  into  iron,  but  the  potter  moulds 
the  clay : 

Destiny  to-day  is  master — Man  was  master  yester- 
day.” 


228 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


“Worthy  ends  come  not  by  wisliing.  Wouldst  thou? 
Up,  and  win  it,  then  ! 

While  the  hungry  lion  slumbers,  not  a deer  comes  to 
his  den.” 


“ Silly  glass,  in  splendid  settings,  something  of  the  gold 
may  gain; 

And  in  company  of  wise  ones,  fools  to  wisdom  may 
attain.” 

“ Labours  spent  on  the  unworthy,  of  reward  the 
labourer  balk; 

Like  the  parrot,  teach  the  heron  twenty  words,  he  will 
not  talk.” 


“ Ah ! a thousand  thoughts  of  sorrow,  and  a hundred 
things  of  dread. 

By  the  fools  unheeded,  enter  day  by  day  the  wise 
man’s  head.” 

“ Of  the  day’s  impending  dangers,  Sickness,  Death,  and 
klisery. 

One  will  be;  the  wise  man,  W'aking,  ponders  which 
that  one  will  be.” 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


229 


“ Good  things  come  not  out  of  bad  things ; wisely  leave 
a longed-for  ill. 

Nectar  being  mixed  with  poison  serves  no  purpose 
but  to  kill.” 

“Give  to  poor  men,  son  of  Khnti — on  the  wealthy 
waste  not  wealth ; 

Good  are  simples  for  the  sick  man,  good  for  nought 
to  him  in  health.” 


“ Be  his  Scripture-learning  wondrous,  yet  the  cheat  will 
be  a cheat ; 

Be  her  pasture  ne’er  so  bitter,  yet  the  cow’s  milk  will 
taste  sweet.” 

“ Trust  not  water,  trust  not  weapons ; trust  not  clawed 
nor  horned  things ; 

Neither  give  thy  soul  to  women,  nor  thy  life  to  Sons 
of  Kings.” 

“ Look ! the  Moon,  the  silver  roamer,  from  whose  splen- 
dour darkness  flies. 

With  his  starry  cohorts  marching,  like  a crowned  king. 


230 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


All  his  grandeur,  all  his  glory,  vanish  in  the  Dragon’s 
jaw; 

What  is  written  on  the  forehead,  that  will  he,  and 
nothing  more.” 


“ Counsel  in  danger ; of  it 

Unwarned,  be  nothing  begun  ; 

But  nobody  asks  a Prophet, 

Shall  the  risk  of  a dinner  be  run  ? ” 


“ Avarice  begetteth  anger ; blind  desires  from  her 
begin ; 

A right  fruitful  mother  is  she  of  a countless  spawn 
of  sin.” 


Be  second  and  not  first ! — the  share’s  the  same 
If  all  go  well.  If  not,  the  Head’s  to  blame.” 


“ Passion  will  be  Slave  or  Mistress : follow  her,  she 
brings  to  woe ; 

Lead  her,  ’tis  the  way  to  Fortune.  Choose  the  path 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


23' 


“ Wlien  the  time  of  trouble  cometh,  friends  may  ofttimes 
irk  us  most  : 

For  the  calf  at  milking-hour  the  mother’s  leg  is  tying- 
post.” 

“ In  good-fortune  not  elated,  in  ill-fortune  not  dismayed, 

Ever  eloquent  in  council,  never  in  the  fight  affrayed. 

Proudly  emulous  of  honour,  steadfastly  on  wisdom  set; 

These  six  virtues  in  the  nature  of  a noble  soul  are  met. 

Whoso  hath  them,  gem  and  glory  of  the  three  wide 
worlds  is  he ; 

Happy  mother  she  that  bore  him,  she  who  nursed  him 
on  her  knee.” 


“ Small  things  wax  exceeding  mighty,  being  cunningly 
combined ; 

Furious  elephants  are  fastened  with  a rope  of  grass- 
blades  twined.” 

“ Let  the  household  hold  together,  though  the  house  be 
ne’er  so  small ; 

Strip  the  rice-husk  from  the  rice-grain,  and  it  groweth 
not  at  all.” 


23'2 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


“ Sickness,  anguish,  bonds,  and  woe 
Spring  from  wrongs  wrought  long  ago.” 


“ Keep  wealth  for  want,  but  spend  it  for  thy  wife. 
And  wife,  and  wealth,  and  all,  to  guard  thy  life.” 


“ Death,  that  must  come,  comes  nobly  when  we  give 
Our  wealth,  and  life,  and  all,  to  make  men  live.” 


“ Floating  on  his  fearless  pinions,  lost  amid  the  noon- 
day skies. 

Even  thence  the  Eagle’s  vision  kens  the  carcass  where 
it  lies ; 

But  the  hour  that  comes  to  all  things  comes  unto  the 
Lord  of  Air, 

And  he  rushes,  madly  blinded,  to  die  helpless  in  the 
snare.” 

Bar  thy  door  not  to  the  stranger,  be  he  friend  or  be 
he  foe. 

For  the  tree  will  shade  the  woodman  while  his  axe 
doth  lay  it  low. 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


233 


Greeting  fair,  and  room  to  rest  in ; fire,  and  water  from 
the  well — 

Simple  gifts — are  given  freely  in  the  house  where 
good  men  dwell ; — 

Young,  or  bent  with  many  winters;  rich,  or  poor, 
whate’er  thy  guest. 

Honour  him  for  thine  own  honour — better  is  he  than 
the  best. 

“ Pity  them  that  crave  thy  pity : who  art  thou  to  stint 
thy  hoard. 

When  the  holy  moon  shines  equal  on  the  leper  and 
the  lord  ? ” 

When  thy  gate  is  roughly  fastened,  and  the  asker 
turns  away. 

Thence  he  bears  thy  good  deeds  with  him,  and  his 
sins  on  thee  doth  lay. 

In  the  house  the  husband  ruleth ; men  the  Brahman 
"master”  call; 

Agni  is  the  Twice-born’s  Master — but  the  guest  is 
lord  of  all. 


234 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


“ He  who  does  and  thinks  no  wrong — 
• He  who  suffers,  being  strong — 

He  whose  harmlessness  men  know — 
Unto  Swarga  such  doth  go.” 


“ In  the  land  where  no  wise  men  are,  men  of  little  wit 
are  lords ; 

And  the  castor-oil’s  a tree,  where  no  tree  else  its  shade 
affords.” 


“ Foe  is  friend,  and  friend  is  foe. 

As  our  actions  make  them  so.” 

“ That  friend  only  is  the  true  friend  who  abides  when 
trouble  comes ; 

That  man  only  is  the  brave  man  who  can  bear  the 
battle-drums ; 

Words  are  wind;  deed  proveth  promise:  he  who 
helps  at  need  is  kin  ; 

And  the  leal  wife  is  loving  though  the  husband  lose 


or  win.' 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


235 


“ Friend  and  kinsman — more  their  meaning  than  the 
idle-hearted  mind ; 

]ilany  a friend  can  prove  unfriendly,  many  a kinsman 
less  than  kind : 

lie  who  shares  his  comrade’s  portion,  be  he  beggar, 
be  he  lord. 

Comes  as  truly,  comes  as  duly,  to  tlie  battle  as  the 
board — 

Stands  before  the  king  to  succour,  follows  to  the  pile 
to  sigh — 

He  is  friend,  and  he  is  kinsman ; less  would  make  the 
name  a lie.” 


“ Stars  gleam,  lamps  flicker,  friends  foretell  of  fate ; 
The  fated  sees,  knows,  hears  them — all  too  late.” 


“ Absent,  flatterers’  tongues  are  daggers — present,  softer 
than  the  silk ; 

Shun  them ! ’tis  a draught  of  poison  hidden  under 
harmless  milk ; 


236 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


Shun  them  when  they  promise  little ! Shun  them 
when  they  promise  much ! 

For,  enkindled,  charcoal  burneth — cold,  it  doth  defile 
the  touch.” 


“ In  years,  or  moons,  or  half-moons  three. 
Or  in  three  days — suddenly, 

Knaves  are  shent — true  men  go  free.” 


“ Anger  comes  to  noble  natures,  but  leaves  there  no 
strife  or  storm : 

Plunge  a lighted  torch  beneath  it,  and  the  ocean  grows 

00  • O 

not  warm.” 

“ Koble  hearts  are  golden  vases — close  the  bond  true 
metals  make ; 

Easily  the  smith  may  weld  them,  harder  far  it  is  to 
break. 

Evil  hearts  are  earthen  vessels — at  a touch  they  crack 
a-twain. 

And  what  craftsman’s  ready  cunning  can  unite  the 
shards  again  ? ” 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


237 


Good  men’s  friendships  may  be  broken,  yet  abide  they 
friends  at  heart ; 

Snap  the  stem  of  Luxmee’s  lotus,  but  its  fibres  will 
not  part.” 


“ One  foot  goes,  and  one  foot  stands, 
When  the  wise  man  leaves  his  lands.” 


Over-love  of  home  were  weakness;  wheresoe’er  the 
hero  come. 

Stalwart  arm  and  steadfast  spirit  find  or  make  for 
him  a home. 

Little  recks  the  awless  lion  where  his  hunting  jungles 
lie — 

When  he  enters  them  be  certain  that  a royal  prey 
shall  die.” 


Very  feeble  folk  are  poor  folk ; money  lost  takes  wit 
away: 

All  their  doings  fail  like  runnels,  wasting  through  the 

» 

summer  day.” 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


38 

Wealth  is  friends,  home,  father,  brother — title  to  re- 
spect and  fame ; 

Yea,  and  wealth  is  held  for  wisdom — that  it  should  • 
he  so  is  shame.” 

Home  is  empty  to  the  childless ; hearts  to  those  who 
friends  deplore : 

Earth  unto  the  idle-minded ; and  the  three  worlds  to 
the  poor.” 

Say  the  sages,  nine  things  name  not : Age,  domestic 
joys  and  woes. 

Counsel,  sickness,  shame,  alms,  penance ; neither 
Poverty  disclose. 

Better  for  the  proud  of  spirit,  death,  than  life  witli 
losses  told ; 

Eire  consents  to  he  extinguished,  but  submits  not  to 
be  cold.” 

“ As  Age  doth  banish  beauty. 

As  moonlight  dies  in  gloom. 

As  Slavery’s  menial  duty 
Js  Honour’s  certain  tombj 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


239 


As  I lari’s  name  and  Hara’s 
Spoken,  charm  sin  awa}*, 
So  Poverty  can  surely 
A hundred  virtues  slay.” 


Half-known  knowledge,  present  pleasure  purchased 
with  a future  woe, 

And  to  taste  the  salt  of  service — greater  griefs  no 
man  can  know.” 


All  existence  is  not  equal,  and  all  living  is  not 
life ; 

Sick  men  live ; and  he  who,  banished,  pines  for  chil- 
dren, home,  and  wife ; 

And  the  craven-hearted  eater  of  another’s  leavings 
lives. 

And  the  wretched  captive,  waiting  for  the  word  of 
doom,  survives ; 

But  they  bear  an  anguished  body,  and  they  draw  a 
deadly  breath ; 

And  life  cometh  to  them  only  on  the  happy  day  of 
death.” 


240 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


“ Golden  gift,  serene  Contentment ! have  thou  that, 
and  all  is  had  ; 

Thrust  thy  slipper  on,  and  think  thee  that  the  earth 
is  leather-clad.” 

“ All  is  known,  digested,  tested ; nothing  new  is  left  to 
learn 

When  the  soul,  serene,  reliant,  Hope’s  delusive  dreams 
can  spurn.” 

“Hast  thou  never  watched,  a- waiting  till  the  great 
man’s  door  unbarred  ? 

Didst  thou  never  linger  parting,  saying  many  a sad 
last  word  ? 

Spak’st  thou  never  word  of  foUy,  one  light  thing  thou 
would’st  recall  ? 

Eare  and  noble  hath  thy  life  been ! fair  thy  fortune 
did  befall!” 


“True  Eeligion! — ’tis  not  blindly  prating  what  the 
gurus  prate. 

But  to  love,  as  God  hath  loved  them,  all  things,  be 
they  small  or  great ; 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


241 


And  true  bliss  is  when  a sane  mind  doth  a healthy 
body  fill ; 

And  true  knowledge  is  the  knowing  what  is  good  and 
what  is  ill.” 

“ Poisonous  though  the  tree  of  life  be,  two  fair  blossoms 
grow  thereon : 

One,  the  company  of  good  men ; and  sweet  songs  of 
Poets,  one.” 

“ Give,  and  it  shall  swell  thy  getting ; give,  and  thou 
shalt  safer  keep : 

Pierce  the  tank- wall ; or  it  yieldeth,  when  the  water 
waxeth  deep.” 

“ ^\^len  the  miser  hides  his  treasure  in  the  earth,  he 
doeth  well ; 

For  he  opens  up  a passage  that  his  soul  may  sink  to 
hell.” 

“ He  whose  coins  are  kept  for  counting,  not  to  barter 
nor  to  give. 

Breathe  he  like  a blacksmith’s  bellows,  yet  in  truth 
he  doth  not  live.” 

Q 


242 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


“ Gifts,  bestowed  with  words  of  kindness,  making  giving 
doubly  dear : 

Wisdom,  deep,  complete,  benignant,  of  all  arrogancy 
clear ; 

Valour,  never  yet  forgetful  of  sweet  Mercy’s  pleading 
prayer ; 

Wealth,  and  scorn  of  wealth  to  spend  it — oh ! but 
these  be  virtues  rare ! ” ' 


“ Sentences  of  studied  wisdom,  nought  avail  they  un- 
applied ; 

Though  the  blind  man  hold  a lantern,  yet  his  foot- 
steps stray  aside.” 


“ Would’st  thou  know  whose  happy  dwelling  Fortune 
entereth  unknown  ? 

His,  who  careless  of  her  favour,  standeth  fearless  in 
his  own ; 

His,  who  for  the  vague  to-morrow  barters  not  the 
sure  to-day — 

Master  of  himself,  and  sternly  steadfast  to  the  right- 
ful way : 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


243 


Very  mindful  of  past  service,  valiant,  faithful,  true  of 
heart — 

Unto  such  comes  Lakshmi  smiling — comes,  and  will 
not  lightly  part.” 

” Be  not  haughty,  being  wealthy ; droop  not,  having 
lost  thine  all ; 

Fate  doth  play  with  mortal  fortunes  as  a girl  doth 
toss  her  ball.” 

“Worldly  friendships,  fair  but  fleeting;  shadows  of  the 
clouds  at  noon ; 

Women,  youth,  new  corn,  and  riches;  these  be  plea- 
sures passing  soon.” 

“ For  thy  bread  be  not  o’er  thoughtful — Heav’n  for  all 
hath  taken  thought : 

When  the  babe  is  born,  the  sweet  milk  to  the  mother’s 
breast  is  brought. 

“ He  who  gave  the  swan  her  silver,  and  the  hawk  her 
plumes  of  pride. 

And  his  purples  to  the  peacock — He  will  verily 
provide.” 


244 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


“ Though  for  good  ends,  waste  not  on  wealth  a minute  ; 
Mud  may  be  wiped,  but  wise  men  plunge  not  in  it.” 


“ Brunettes,  and  the  Banyan’s  shadow, 
WeU-springs,  and  a brick-built  wall. 
Are  all  alike  cool  in  the  summer. 

And  warm  in  the  winter — all.” 


“ Ah ! the  gleaming,  glancing  arrows  of  a lovely  woman’s 
eye! 

Feathered  with  her  jetty  lashes,  perilous  they  pass 
thee  by : 

Loosed  at  venture  from  the  black  bows  of  her  arching 
brow,  they  part. 

All  too  penetrant  and  deadly  for  an  undefended 
heart.” 


“ Beautiful  the  Koil  seemeth  for  the  sweetness  of  his 
song. 

Beautiful  the  world  esteemeth  pious  souls  for  patience 
strong ; 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


245 


Homely  features  lack  not  favour  when  true  wisdom 
they  reveal, 

And  a wife  is  fair  and  honoured  while  her  heart  is 
firm  and  leal.” 


Friend ! gracious  word  ! — the  heart  to  tell  is  ill  able 
Whence  came  to  men  this  jewel  of  a syllable.” 


“ Whoso  for  greater  quits  small  gain, 
Shall  have  his  labour  for  his  pain ; 
The  things  unwon  unwon  remain. 
And  what  was  won  is  lost  again.” 


Looking  down  on  lives  below  them,  men  of  little  store 
are  great ; 

Looking  up  to  higher  fortunes,  hard  to  each  man 
seems  his  fate.” 

As  a bride,  unwisely  wedded,  shuns  the  cold  caress  of 
eld. 

So,  from  coward  souls  and  slothful,  Lakshmi’s  favours 
turn  repelled.” 


246 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


“ Ease,  ill-health,  home-keeping,  sleeping,  woman- 
service,  and  content — 

In  the  path  that  leads  to  greatness  these  be  six 
obstructions  sent.” 

“ Seeing  how  the  soorma  wasteth,  seeing  how  the  ant- 
hill grows. 

Little  adding  unto  little — live,  give,  learn,  as  life-time 
goes.” 


“ Drops  of  water  falling,  falling,  falling,  brim  the  chatty 
o’er; 

Wisdom  comes  in  little  lessons — little  gains  make 
largest  store.” 

O 


“ Men  their  cunning  schemes  may  spin — 
God  knows  who  shall  lose  or  win.” 


“ Shoot  a hundred  shafts,  the  quarry  lives  and  flies — 
not  due  to  death ; 

When  his  hour  is  come,  a grass-blade  hath  a point  to 
stop  his  breath.” 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


247 


Robes  were  none,  nor  oil  of  unction,  when  the  King 
of  Beasts  was  crowned : 

’Twas  his  own  fierce  roar  proclaimed  him,  rolling  all 
the  kingdom  round.” 


“ What  but  for  their  vassals. 
Elephant  and  man — 

Swing  of  golden  tassels. 

Wave  of  silken  fan — 

But  for  regal  manner 

That  the  ‘ Chattra  ’ brings. 
Horse,  and  foot,  and  banner — 
What  would  come  of  kings  ? ” 


At  the  work-time,  asking  wages — is  it  like  a faithful 
herd  ? 

When  the  work’s  done,  grudging  wages — is  that  acting 
like  a lord  ? ” 

Serve  the  Sun  with  sweat  of  body;  starve  thy  maw 
to  feed  the  flame ; 

Stead  thy  lord  with  all  thy  service ; to  thy  death  go, 
quit  of  blame.” 


248 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM, 


“ Many  prayers  for  him  are  uttered  whereon  many  a 
life  relies ; 

’Tis  but  one  poor  fool  the  fewer  when  the  greedy 
jack-daw  dies.” 


“ Give  thy  Dog  the  merest  mouthful,  and  he  crouches 
at  thy  feet, 

Wags  his  tail,  and  fawns,  and  grovels,  in  his  eagerness 
to  eat ; 

Bid  the  Elephant  be  feeding,  and  the  best  of  fodder 
bring ; 

Gravely  — after  much  entreaty  — condescends  that 
mighty  king.” 


“ By  their  own  deeds  men  go  downward,  by  them  men 
mount  upward  all. 

Like  the  diggers  of  a well,  and  like  the  builders  of  a 
wall.” 


Bushes  down  the  hill  the  crag,  which  upward  ’twas  so 
hard  to  roll ; 

So  to  virtue  slowly  rises — so  to  vice  quick  sinks  the 
soul.” 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


249 


“ Wlio  speaks  unasked,  or  comes  unbid, 
Or  counts  on  service — will  be  chid.” 


“ Wise,  modest,  constant,  ever  close  at  hand, 

Not  weighing  but  obeying  all  command, 

Such  servant  by  a Monarch’s  throne  may  stand,” 


Pitiful,  who  fearing  failure,  therefore  no  beginning 
makes. 

Why  forswear  a daily  dinner  for  the  chance  of 
stomach-aches  ? ” 


Nearest  to  the  King  is  dearest,  be  thy  merit  low  or 
high; 

Women,  creeping  plants,  and  princes,  twine  round 
that  wliich  groweth  nigh.” 


Pearls  are  dull  in  leaden  settings,  but  the  setter  is  to 
blame ; 

Glass  wiU  glitter  like  the  ruby,  dulled  with  dust — are 
they  the  same  ? ” 


2 50  PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 

“ And  a fool  may  tread  on  jewels,  setting  in  his  turban 
glass ; 

Yet,  at  selling,  gems  are  gems,  and  fardels  but  for 
fardels  pass.” 

“ Horse  and  weapon,  lute  and  volume,  man  and  woman, 
gift  of  speech, 

Have  their  uselessness  or  uses  in  the  one  who  owneth 
each.” 

“ Not  disparagement  nor  slander  kills  the  spirit  of  the 
brave ; 

Fling  a torch  down,  upward  ever  burns  the  brilliant 
flame  it  gave.” 


“ Wisdom  from  the  mouth  of  children  be  it  overpast  of 
none; 

What  man  scorns  to  walk  by  lamplight  in  the  absence 
of  the  sun  ? ” 

“ Strength  serves  Reason.  Saith  the  Mahout,  when  he 
beats  the  brazen  drum, 

‘ Ho ! ye  elephants,  to  this  work  must  your  mighti- 


nesses come. 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


2;  I 

“ Mighty  natures  war  with  mighty : when  the  raging 
• tempests  blow, 

O’er  the  green  rice  harmless  pass  they,  but  they  lay 
the  palm-trees  low.” 

“ Narrow-necked  to  let  out  little,  big  of  belly  to  keep 
much, 

As  a flacron  is — the  Vizier  of  a Sultan  should  be  such.” 

O 


“ He  who  thinks  a minute  little,  like  a fool  misuses 
more ; 

He  who  counts  a cowry  nothing,  being  wealthy,  will 
be  poor.” 


“ Brahmans,  soldiers,  these  and  kinsmen — of  the  three 
set  none  in  charge : 

For  the  Brahman,  though  you  rack  him,  yields  no 
treasure  small  or  large ; 

And  the  soldier,  being  trusted,  writes  his  quittance 
with  his  sword. 

And  the  kinsman  cheats  his  kindred  by  the  charter 
of  the  word ; 


252 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


But  a servant  old  in  service,  worse  than  any  one  is 
thought, 

Who,  by  long-tried  license  fearless,  knows  his  master’s 
anger  nought.” 

“ Never  tires  the  fire  of  burning,  never  wearies  Death  of 
slaying, 

Nor  the  sea  of  drinking  rivers,  nor  the  bright-eyed  of 
betraying.” 

“ From  false  friends  that  breed  thee  strife. 

From  a house  with  serpents  rife, 

Saucy  slaves  and  brawling  wife — 

Get  thee  forth,  to  save  thy  life.” 


” Teeth  grown  loose,  and  wicked-hearted  ministers,  and 
poison  trees. 

Pluck  them  by  the  roots  together ; ’tis  the  thing  that 
giveth  ease." 


“ Long-tried  friends  are  friends  to  cleave  to — never 
leave  thou  these  i’  the  lurch : 

What  man  shuns  the  hie  as  sinful  for  that  once  it 
burned  a church  ? ” 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


253 


“ liaise  an  evil  soul  to  honour,  and  his  evil  bents 
remain ; 

Bind  a cur’s  tail  ne’er  so  straightly,  yet  it  curleth  uj) 
again.” 

“ How,  in  sooth,  should  Trust  and  Honour  change  the 
evil  nature’s  root  ? 

Though  one  watered  them  with  nectar,  poison-trees 
bear  deadly  fruit.” 

“ Safe  within  the  husk  of  silence  guard  the  seed  of 
counsel  so 

•That  it  break  not — being  broken,  then  the  seedling 
will  not  grow.” 


“ Even  as  one  who  grasps  a serpent,  drowning  in  the 
bitter  sea. 

Death  to  hold  and  death  to  loosen — such  is  life’s 
perplexity.” 

“ Woman’s  love  rewards  the  worthless — kings  of  knaves 
exalters  be ; 

Wealth  attends  the  selfish  niggard,  and  the  cloud  rains 
on  the  sea.” 


254 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


“ Many  a knave  wins  fair  opinions  standing  in  fair 
company, 

As  the  sooty  soorma  pleases,  lighted  by  a brilliant 
eye.” 

“ Where  the  azure  lotus  blossoms,  there  the  alligators 
hide ; 

In  the  sandal-tree  are  serpents.  Pain  and  pleasure 
live  allied.” 

“ Eich  the  sandal — yet  no  part  is  but  a vile  thing  habits 
there ; 

Snake  and  wasp  haunt  root  and  blossom ; on  the 
boughs  sit  ape  and  bear.” 


“ As  a bracelet  of  crystal,  once  broke,  is  not  mended 
So  the  favour  of  princes,  once  altered,  is  ended.” 


“ Wrath  of  kings,  and  rage  of  lightning — both  be  very 
full  of  dread ; 

But  one  falls  on  one  man  only — one  strikes  many 
victims  dead.” 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


255 


All  men  scorn  the  soulless  coward  who  his  manhood 
doth  forget: 

On  a hfeless  heap  of  ashes  fearlessly  the  foot  is  set.” 


Simple  milk,  when  serpents  drink  it,  straightway  into 
venom  turns ; 

And  a fool  who  heareth  counsel  all  the  wisdom  of  it 
spurns.” 

“ A modest  manner  fits  a maid. 

And  Patience  is  a man’s  adorning ; 

But  brides  may  kiss,  nor  do  amiss. 

And  men  may  draw,  at  scathe  and  scorning.” 


Serving  narrow-minded  masters  dwarfs  high  natures 
to  their  size : 

Seen  before  a convex  mirror,  elephants  do  show  as 
mice.” 

Elephants  destroy  by  touching,  snakes  with  point  of 
tooth  beguile ; 

Kings  by  favour  kill,  and  traitors  murder  with  a fatal 


256 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


“ Of  the  wife  the  lord  is  jewel,  though  no  gems  upon 
her  beam ; 

Lacking  him,  she  lacks  adornment,  howsoe’er  her 
jewels  gleam ! ” 

“ Hairs  three-lakhs,  and  half-a-lakh  hairs,  on  a man  so 
many  grow — 

And  so  many  years  to  Swarga  shall  the  true  wife 
surely  go  ! ” 

“ When  the  faithful  wife,  embracing  tenderly  her 
husband  dead, 

^Mounts  the  blazing  pyre  beside  him,  as  it  were  a 
bridal-bed ; 

Though  his  sins  were  twenty  thousand,  twenty  thou- 
sand times  o’er-told. 

She  shall  bring  his  soul  to  splendour,  for  her  love  so 
large  and  bold.” 

O 


Counsel  unto  six  ears  spoken,  unto  all  is  notified  ; 
\Wien  a King  holds  consultation,  let  it  be  with  one 
beside.” 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


257 


Sick  men  are  for  skilful  leeches — prodigals  for  poison- 
iug— 

Fools  for  teachers — and  the  man  who  keeps  a secret, 
for  a King.” 

"With  gift,  craft,  promise,  cause  thy  foe  to  yield ; 
"When  these  have  failed  thee,  challenge  him  a-field.” 


“ The  subtle  wash  of  waves  do  smoothly  pass. 
Cut  lay  the  tree  as  lowly  as  the  gi-ass.” 


Ten  true  bowmen  on  a rampart  fifty’s  onset  may 
sustain ; 

FortaHces  keep  a country  more  than  armies  in  the 
plain.” 

Build  it  strong,  and  build  it  spacious,  with  an  entry 
and  retreat ; 

Store  it  well  with  wood  and  water,  fill  its  garners  full 
with  wheat.” 

“ Gems  will  no  man’s  life  sustain; 

Best  of  gold  is  golden  grain.” 


58 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


Hard  it  is  to  conquer  nature : if  a dog  were  made  a 
King. 

’Mid  the  coronation  trumpets  he  would  gnaw  his  ■ 
sandal-string.” 

’Tis  no  Council  where  no  Sage  is — ’tis  no  Sage  that 
fears  not  Law ; 

’Tis  no  Law  which  Truth  confirms  not — ’tis  no  Truth 
which  Fear  can  awe.” 


“ Though  base  be  the  Herald,  nor  hinder  nor  let, 
For  the  mouth  of  a king  is  he ; 

The  sword  may  be  whet,  and  the  battle  set. 

But  the  word  of  his  message  goes  free.” 

Better  few  and  chosen  fighters  than  of  shaven-crowns 
a host, 

For  in  headlong  flight  confounded,  with  the  base  the 
brave  are  lost.” 

Kind  is  kin,  howe’er  a stranger — kin  unkind  is  stranger 
shown ; 

Sores  hurt,  though  the  body  breeds  them — drugs 
relieve,  though  desert-grown.” 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


259 


Betel  - nut  is  bitter,  hot,  sweet,  spicy,  binding, 
alkaline — 

A demulcent — an  astringent — foe  to  evils  intestine ; 

(living  to  the  breath  a fragrance  — to  the  lips  a 
crimson  red ; 

A detergent,  and  a kindler  of  Love’s  llame  that  lieth 
dead. 

Braise  the  Gods  for  the  good  betel ! — these  be  thirteen 
virtues  given. 

Hard  to  meet  in  one  thing  blended,  even  in  their 
happy  heaven.” 


He  is  brave  whose  tongue  is  silent  of  the  trophies  of 
his  sword ; 

He  is  great  whose  quiet  bearing  marks  his  greatness 
well  assured.” 


“ "Wlien  the  Priest,  the  Leech,  the  Vizier  cf  a King  his 
flatterers  be. 

Very  soon  the  King  will  part  with  health,  and  wealth 
and  piety.” 


26o 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


“ Merciless,  or  mouey-loving,  deaf  to  counsel,  false  of 
faith. 

Thoughtless,  spiritless,  or  careless,  changing  course 
with  every  breatla. 

Or  tlie  man  who  scorns  his  rival — if  a prince  should 
choose  a foe, 

Eipe  for  meeting  and  defeating,  certes  he  would 
choose  him  so.” 


“ By  the  valorous  and  unskilful  great  achievements 
are  not  wrought ; 

Courage,  led  by  careful  Prudence,  unto  highest  ends 
is  brought.” 

O 


“ Grief  kills  gladness,  winter  summer,  midnight-gloom 
the  light  of  day, 

Kindnesses  ingratitude,  and  pleasant  friends  drive  pain 
away ; 

Each  ends  eacli,  but  none  of  other  surer  conquerors 
can  be 

Than  Impolicy  of  Fortune — of  Misfortune  Policy.” 


PROVERDIAL  WISDOM. 


26r 


'•  Wisdom  answers  all  who  ask  her,  but  a fool  she  can- 
not aid ; 

lllind  men  in  the  faithful  mirror  see  not  their  reflection 
made.” 


'*  Where  the  Gods  are,  or  thy  Gi'ini — in  the  face  of  Pain 
and  Age, 

Cattle,  Brahmans,  Ivings,  and  Children — reverently 
curb  thy  rage.” 


“ Oh,  my  Prince ! on  eight  occasions  prodigality  is 
none — 

In  the  solemn  sacrificing,  at  the  wedding  of  a son. 

When  the  glittering  treasure  given  makes  the  proud 
invader  bleed. 

Or  its  lustre  bringeth  comfort  to  the  people  in  their 
need,  ' 

Or  when  kinsmen  are  to  succour,  or  a worthv  work 
to  end. 

Or  to  do  a loved  one  honour,  or  to  welcome  back  a 
friend.” 


262 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


“ Truth,  munificence,  and  valour,  are  the  virtues  of  a 
King ; 

Royalty,  devoid  of  either,  sinks  to  a rejected  thing.” 


“ Hold  thy  vantage ! — alligators  on  the  land  make  none 
afraid ; 

And  the  lion’s  but  a jackal  who  hath  left  his  forest- 
shade.” 


“ The  people  are  the  lotus-leaves,  their  monarch  is  the 
sun — 

When  he  doth  sink  beneath  the  waves  they  vanish 
every  one. 

When  he  doth  rise  they  rise  again  with  bud  and 
blossom  rife. 

To  bask  awhile  in  his  warm  smile,  who  is  their  lord 
and  life.” 

‘‘All  the  cows  bring  forth  are  cattle — only  now  and 
then  is  born 

An  authentic  lord  of  pastures,  with  his  shoulder- 
scratching  horn.” 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


263 


When  the  soldier  in  the  battle  lays  his  life  down  for 
his  king, 

Unto  Swarga’s  perfect  glory  such  a deed  his  soul 
shall  bring.” 

’Tis  the  fool  who,  meeting  trouble,  straightway  Destiny 
reviles. 

Knowing  not  his  own  misdoing  brought  his  own  mis- 
chance the  whiles.” 

‘ Time-not-come  ’ and  ‘ Quick-at- Peril,’  these  two  fishes 
’scaped  the  net ; 

‘ \Miat-will-be-will-be,’  he  perished,  by  the  fishermen 
beset.” 

“ Sex,  that  tires  of  being  true. 

Base  and  new  is  brave  to  you ! 

Like  the  jungle-cows  ye  range. 

Changing  food  for  sake  of  change.” 


That  which  will  not  be  will  not  be,  and  what  is  to  be 
wiU  be : 

Why  not  drink  this  easy  physic,  antidote  of  misery  ? ” 


264 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


“ Whoso  trusts,  for  service  rendered,  or  fair  words,  an 
enemy. 

Wakes  from  folly  like  one  falling  in  his  slumber  from 
a tree.’ 


“ Fellow  be  with  kindly  foemeu,  rather  than  with 
friends  unkind ; 

Friend  and  foeman  are  distinguished  not  by  title  but 
by  mind.” 


“ Whoso  setting  duty  highest,  speaks  at  need  unwel- 
come things. 

Disregarding  fear  and  favour,  such  an  one  may  suc- 
cour kings.” 


“ Brahmans  for  their  lore  have  honour;  Kshattriyas  for 
their  bravery ; 

Vaisyas  for  their  hard-earned  treasure;  Sudras  for 
humility.” 

“ Seven  foemen  of  all  focmen,  very  hard  to  vanquish  be : 
The  Truth-teller,  the  Just-dweller,  and  the  man  from 
passion  free, 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


265 


Subtle,  self-sustained,  and  counting  frequent  well- 
won  victories. 

And  the  man  of  many  kinsmen — keep  the  peace  with 
such  as  these.” 

For  the  man  with  many  kinsmen  answers  by  them 
all  attacks ; 

As  the  bambu,  in  the  bambus  safely  sheltered,  scorns 
the  axe.” 


“ Whoso  hath  the  gift  of  giving  wisely,  eqtiitably,  well ; 

Whoso,  learning  all  men’s  secrets,  unto  none  his  own 
will  tell : 

Whoso,  ever  cold  and  courtly,  utters  nothing  that 
offends. 

Such  an  one  may  rule  his  fellows  unto  Earth’s 
extremest  ends.” 


“ Cheating  them  that  truly  trust  you,  ’tis  a clumsy 
villany ! 

Any  knave  may  slay  the  child  who  climbs  and 
slumbers  on  his  knee.” 


266 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


“ Hunger  hears  not,  cares  not,  spares  not ; no  boon  of 
the  starving  beg: 

O O' 

When  the  snake  is  pinched  with  craving,  verily  she 
eats  her  egg.” 


“Of  the  Tree  of  State  the  root 
Kings  are — feed  what  brings  the  fruit.” 


“ Courtesy  may  cover  malice ; on  their  heads  the  wood- 
men bring. 

Meaning  all  the  while  to  burn  them,  logs  and  faggots 
— oh,  my  King ! 

And  the  strong  and  subtle  river,  rippling  at  the  cedar’s 
foot. 

While  it  seems  to  lave  and  kiss  it,  undermines  the 
hanging  root.” 

O O 


“ Weep  not ! Life  the  hired  nurse  is,  holding  us  a 
little  space ; 

Death,  the  mother  who  doth  take  us  back  into  our 
proper  place.” 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


267 


Gone,  with  all  their  gauds  and  glories:  gone,  like 
peasants,  are  the  Kings, 

Whereunto  this  earth  was  witness,  whereof  all  her 
record  rings.” 


For  the  body,  daily  wasting,  is  not  seen  to  waste  away. 
Until  wasted;  as  in  water  set  a jar  of  unbaked  clay.” 


And  day  after  day  man  goeth  near  and  nearer  to  his 
fate, 

As  step  after  step  the  victim  thither  where  its  slayers 
wait.” 


“ Like  as  a plank  of  drift-wood 
Tossed  on  the  watery  main, 
Another  plank  encountered. 
Meets, — touches, — parts  again ; 
So  tossed,  and  drifting  ever, 

On  life’s  unresting  sea. 

Men  meet,  and  greet,  and  sever. 


Parting  eternally.” 


268 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


Halt,  traveller ! rest  i’  the  shade : then  up  and  leave 
it ! 

Stay,  Soul!  take  fill  of  love;  nor  losing,  grieve  it !” 

“ Each  beloved  object  born 
Sets  within  the  heart  a thorn. 

Bleeding,  when  they  be  uptorn  ” 

“ If  thine  own  house,  this  rotting  frame,  doth  wither. 
Thinking  another’s  lasting — goest  thou  thither  ? ” 


“ Meeting  makes  a parting  sure. 

Life  is  nothing  but  death’s  door.” 

“ As  the  downward-running  rivers  never  turn  and  never 
stay, 

So  the  days  and  nights  stream  deathward,  bearing 
human  lives  away,” 

“ Bethinking  him  of  darkness  grim,  and  death’s  un- 
shunned pain, 

A man  strong-souled  relaxes  hold,  like  leather  soaked 
in  rain.” 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


269 


“ Fioin  tlie  day,  the  hour,  the  minute, 
Each  life  quickens  in  the  womb ; 
Thence  its  marcli,  no  falter  in  it, 

Goes  straight  forward  to  the  tomb.” 


An  ’twere  not  so,  would  sorrow  cease  with  years  ? 
"Wisdom  sees  right  what  want  of  knowledge  fear.^.” 

o o 


Seek  not  the  wild,  sad  heart ! thy  passions  haunt  it ; 
Play  hermit  in  thy  house  with  heart  undaunted ; 

A governed  heart,  thinking  no  thought  but  good, 
Makes  crowded  houses  holy  solitude.” 


Away  with  those  that  preach  to  us  the  washing  off 
of  sin — 

Thine  own  self  is  the  stream  for  thee  to  make  ablu- 
tions in : 

In  self-restraint  it  rises  pure — flows  clear  in  tide  of 
truth. 

By  widening  banks  of  wisdom,  in  waves  of  peace  and 


270 


PROVERBIAL  WISDOM. 


Bathe  there,  thou  son  of  Pandu  ! with  reverence  and 
rite, 

For  never  yet  was  water  wet  could  wash  the  spirit  ' 
white.” 


" Thunder  for  nothing,  like  December’s  cloud, 

Passes  unmarked : strike  hard,  but  speak  not  loud.” 


“ Minds  deceived  by  evil  natures,  from  the  good  their 
faith  withhold ; 

When  hot  conjee  once  has  burned  them,  children  blow 
upon  the  cold.” 


!tHE  END, 


rRINTED  BY  BALLANTVNH,  HANSON  AND  OX 
UDINBUKCH  AND  LONDON 


OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS. 


“ In  thi*  new  volume  of  IMessrs.  Triibner's  Oriental  Series,  Mr.  Edwin 
Arnold  does  good  service  by  illustratiug,  through  the  medium  of  bis 
musical  English  melodies,  the  power  of  Indian  poetry  to  stir  European 
emotions.  ‘ The  Indian  Song  of  Songs  ’ is  not  unknown  to  scholars.  Mr. 
Arnold  will  have  introduced  it  among  popular  English  poems.” — Times. 

“ The  poem  abounds  with  imagery  of  Eastern  luxuriousness  and  sen- 
suousness  ; the  air  seems  laden  with  the  sjucy  odours  of  the  tropics,  and 
the  verse  has  a richness  and  a melody  sufficient  to  captivate  the  senses 
of  the  dullest.” — Utandard. 

“ The  translator,  while  producing  a very  enjoyable  poem,  has  adhered 
with  tolerable  fidelity  to  the  original  text.” — Overland  MaiU 

“ We  certainly  wish  Mr.  Arnold  success  in  his  attempt  ‘to  popularise 
Indian  classics,’  that  being,  as  his  preface  tells  us,  the  goal  towards  which 
he  bends  his  efforts.” — Allen’s  Indian  Mail. 

“ Critics  ...  of  a deeper  reading  and  wider  sympathies  will  com- 
mend his  discretion  no  less  than  the  poetic  skill  with  which  he  has  clothed 
this  pastoral,  crowded  ns  it  is  with  intensely  local  imagery,  in  an  English 
dress.  . . . The  remaining  poems  in  the  volume  are  but  four  in  number, 
but  two  of  them,  the  ‘Rajpoot’s  Wife’  and  the  ‘Rajah’s  Ride,’  have 
such  verve  and  swing  in  tliem  that  we  hope  for  some  more  such  ballads 
from  Mr.  Arnold’s  pen.” — Daily  Telegraph. 

“This  is  a really  valuable  book  of  poetry.  We  cordially  recommend 
the  book  to  every  lover  of  poetry.’’ — Manchester  Critic. 

“ Mr.  Arnold  exhibits  himself  a master  of  the  accomplishment  of  verse. 
. . . The  volume  furnishes  an  hour's  very  agreeable  and  refined  poetical 
reading.” — Scotsman. 

“Mr.  Edwin  Arnold  has  bestowed  his  unquestionable  poetic  talents  on 
a very  worthy  object  in  translating  the  Sanskrit  idyll,  ‘ Gita  Govinda,’ 
into  English  verse.  . . . ‘ The  Indian  Song  of  Songs  ’ is  distinctly  a new 
possession  for  the  lovers  of  English  exotic  poetry.” — London  Quartmiy 
Review. 

“ It  has  been  reserved  to  Mr.  Arnold  to  give  us  such  a version  as 
can  convey  to  the  European  reader  an  adequate  idea  of  the  beauty  of 
Jayadeva’s  verse.  It  is  the  best  yet  published,  and  is  not  likely  to  be 
soon  surpassed.” — Academy. 

“ In  Mr.  Edwin  Arnold  this  beautiful  composition  has  found  at  once 
an  accurate  and  an  elegant  translator.  He  has  contrived  to  present 
the  ‘ Song  of  Songs  ’ in  a dress  which,  while  it  preserves  the  spirit  of  the 
original,  can  hardly  fail  to  fascinate  the  English  reader.  It  has  none 
of  the  stiffness  of  a translation,  and  no  more  of  the  strangeness  than 
necessarily  belongs  to  Oriental  metaphor  and  imagery.  "VVe  have  no 
hesitation  iu  pronouncing  Mr.  Arnold's  ‘ Song  of  Songs  ’ the  worthiest 
translation  any  Sanskrit  poem  of  length  has  yet  found.” — The  English- 
man, Calcutta. 

“ Complete  mastery  of  the  English  language,  combined  with  genuine 
poetic  fervour,  has  enabled  the  translator  of  ‘ The  Indian  Song  of  Songs’ 
to  spread  before  his  readers  a feast  of  dulcet  sounds  and  lyrical  language. 
Music  seems  to  flow  from  his  pen  as  naturally  as  rain  from  the  cloud  or 
song  from  the  throat  of  the  thrush.” — Morning  Post. 


LONDON:  TEUBNER  & CO.,  LUDGATE  HILL. 


3B\?  tbe  same  Hutbor. 


Post  8vo,  pp.  xiL  and  282,  cloth,  price  78.  6d. 


INDIAN  IDYLLS. 


FROM  THE  SANSKRIT  OF  THE  MAHABHARATA. 


SAVITRI ; or,  Loto  and  Death. 
NALA  and  DAMAYANTI. 

The  ENCH.ANTED  LAKE. 

The  SAINT'S  TEMPTATION.  ’ 


The  BIRTH  of  DEATH. 

The  NIGHT  of  SLAUGHTER. 
The  GREAT  JOURNEY. 

The  ENTRY  into  HEAVEN. 


“ To  Mr.  Edwin  Arnold  undoubtedly  must  be  accorded  a front  rank  amon^ 
those  who  have  sought  to  popularise  in  England  the  writings  which  are  so  well 
known  in  Hindostan  ; and  this  work  so  undertaken  is  not  only  of  interest  to  the 
student  or  the  lover  of  poetry,  but  is  also  of  great  value  as  tending  to  make  Eng- 
lishmen better  acquainted  with  the  habits  of  thought,  the  religion,  and  tlie 
morality  of  their  Eastern  fellow-subjects.  The  new  volume  of  Indian  poetry 
which  Mr.  Arnold  has  just  published  should,  therefore,  be  cordially  welcomed, 
for  it  is  a fresh  link  in  the  chain  which  connects  ourselves  and  our  Oriental 
Empire.  Nobody  who  reads  the  heart-stirring  epics  put  into  magnificent  rhythm 
which  are  contained  in  this  book  can  ever  again  affect  to  despise  the  people  whose 
genius  established  such  an  imperishable  monument." — Daily  Telegraph. 

“ All  the  idylls  are  marked  by  the  grace  of  diction  and  tenderness  of  tone 
wliich  are  among  Mr.  Arnold’s  leading  characteristics,  whiW  it  needs  scarcely  to 
be  said  that  the  style  is  pure  and  elevated  throughout.  The  imagery,  too,  is  full 
of  force  and  fire." — Globe. 

“ In  his  recently  published  volume  of  ‘ Indi.an  Idylls’  Mr.  Arnold  continues 
his  task  of  interpreting  to  English  readers  the  tender  thoughts  and  graceful 
imagery  of  the  East.  The  volume  consists  of  eight  graphic  pieces  from  the 
‘ Mahabharata,’  one  of  the  two  colossal  and  unparalleled  epic  poems  of  India, 
whieh  were  not  known  to  Europe  even  by  name  till  Sir  William  Jones  announced 
their  existence.” — Fortnightly  Review. 

“ Mr.  Arnold  has  eaten  of  the  lotus-fruit  of  Eastern  song,  and  finds  it  h.ard  to 
leave  it.  And  of  this  we  are  far  from  complaining,  seeing  that  this  taste  of  his 
has  enabled  many  of  us  to  travel  into  ‘ realms  of  gold  ’ which  wo  could  hardly 
enter  without  some  such  skilful  guide.”— S(.  Jatruift  Gazette. 

“The  ‘Indian  Idylls’  partake  of  the  same  character  as  his  previous  works, 
‘ The  Light  of  Asia,’  ‘ Pearls  of  the  Faith,’  and  others,  being  deeply  imbued  with 
the  spirit  of  Oriental  poetry,  and  having  the  power  of  rendering  that  spirit  in 
English  language  with  a verisimilitude  and  force  which  cannot  fail  to  convince 
the  reader  of  the  truth  of  its  colouring.  As  on  fonuer  occasions,  Mr.  Arnold 
adopts  what  may  be  regarded  as  the  modern  form  of  verse,  rendered  familiar  to 
the  public  by  the  pens  of  Tennyson  and  ‘ Owen  Meredith  ’ — that  crisp,  ea.sy  flow- 
ing blank  verse  which  better  suits  the  taste  of  the  day  than  the  more  sonorous 
periods  of  the  Miltonic  and  Popian  schools.  None  the  loss  does  ho  faithfully 
reflect  the  tone  and  colour  of  the  Indian  Muse ; indeed  it  is  hardly  possible  to 
conceive  a vehicle  better  suited  to  convey  to  English  readers  an  idea  of  the  florid 
Oriental  poetry  and  its  faseinating  mysticism  than  that  wltieh  ho  employs." — 
Few  York  limes,  


LONDON:  TllUBNEll  & CO.,  LUDGATE  HILL. 


.iBp  tbc  same  Butbor, 


Second  Edition,  crown  8vo,  pp.  xiv.  ami  320,  with  green  borders, 
cloth,  price  7s.  6d. 


Being  the  Ninety-nine  Beautiful  Names  of  Allah  (Asina-el-’HusnA). 

With  Comments  in  Verse  from  various  Oriental  Sources  as 
made  hy  an  Indian  Mussulman. 

Mr.  Edwin  Arnold  has  succeeded  in  producing  a delightful  collection  of 
Oriental  stories  in  verse." — Times. 

“ Displays  an  astonishing  wealth  and  variety  of  mystical  and  devotional 
imagery  and  allegory,  not  without  a keen  perception  of  the  finer  and  huger 
human  feeling  and  instinct  which  has  given  to  the  faith  of  tiie  ^losleni  its  fasci- 
nation, and  is,  perhaps,  the  secret  of  its  power.’’ — Daily  Netes. 

**  1 am  reading  Mr.  Kdwun  Arnold's  book  with  intense  delight,  for  the  sake  of 
its  majesty  and  eloquence,  its  wealth  and  beauty  of  imagery,  and  its  sweet  and 
harmonious  numbers.”— London  AVir*  (G.  A.  Sala). 

“ Mr.  Arnold  . . . appends  to  each  some  illustrative  legend,  tradition,  record, 
or  comment,  drawn  from  various  sources.  These  are  given  in  verse,  and  many 
of  Uieir  passages  are  splendidly  written.”— Mercury. 

A volume  of  tasteful  verses.” — Li/e. 

“There  is  music  in  Mr.  Arnold's  lines,  and  great  diversity  of  metre ; and  if  the 
Koi'an  sounds  :is  sweetly  to  the  Eastern  ear,  it  is  scarcely  to  be  wondered  at  that 
they  regard  it  with  loving  awe.” — Bookseller. 

“ The  command  of  lucid  and  c-xquisite  English,  long  ago  ackin>wledged  in  Mr. 
Arnold,  here  receives  a brilliant  exemplification.  Better  Uian  this,  however,  ai*c 
the  true  poet's  ideas  and  sympathies  his  language  serves  to  clothe.  A score  of 
pa&sages  contend  for  quotation  ; but  we  must  refer  the  re:ider  to  the  de>cription 
of  Muhammad’s  journey  to  heaven,  and  tlie  story  of  King  Sheddad’s  Pai-adise,  for 
evidence  of  power  alike  of  thought  and  utterance,  such  as  gives  the  author  a 
lofty  place  among  living  singers.”— Da ify  Teleg>ayh. 

“The  subject  is  invested  with  fa.scinating  beauty  by  the  wealth  of  Oriental 
illustrations  displayed."— Daify  Chronicle. 

“ Mr.  Arnold  brings  to  tlie  performance  of  his  task  )>eculiar  qualifications— 
great  poetic  gifts,  broad  sympathies,  and  extensive  knowledge  of  Oiiental 
tongues,  idea.s,  and  methods  of  thought.” — Scotsman. 

“ As  splendid  in  poetry  as  it  is  noble  and  majestic  in  devotional  sentiment." — 
Sydney  Toicn  and  Country  JoumaL 

“There  is  such  a delightful  imageiy  and  rhythmical  cadence  in  every  line  that 
it  positively  thrills  one  with  a feeling  of  abounding  pleasure.  The  air  of  pure 
devotion,  the  unsurpassable  power  of  description,  tlie  inimitable  eloquence  and 
wonderful  grace,  displayed  with  a lavish  profusion,  render  this  work  almost 
peerless.  ” — Society. 

“ * Ozair,  the  Jew,’  is  a fine  poem  ; so  is  ‘ Solomon’s  Signet,’  with  the  sonorous 
r«)U  of  its  dactylic  verse,  a metre  of  which  Mr.  Arnold  shows  a masterly  control. 
But  the  finest  of  all  is  ’ King  Sheddad’s  Paradise.’  The  subject  lends  itself  with 
peculiar  felicity  to  his  genius,  which  is  always  at  its  strongest  in  Oriental  splendour 
of  description.” — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

“ We  cordially  recommend  this  book  to  those  who  know  the  world  of  Islsm  and 
to  those  w’ho  do  not.  The  former  will  be  pleased  to  see  in  an  English  dress  that 
which  they  have  admired  in  its  Eastern  garb ; the  latter  will  be  surprised  to  find 
how  much  the  .Mohammedan  ti'aditions  resemble  those  which  they  have  been 
accustomed  to  revere  both  in  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New.  and  to  admire  in 
some  of  the  more  solemn  portions  of  the  ‘ Arabian  Nights.’” — Vanity  Fair, 

“ Mr.  Arnold  has  caught  the  spirit  of  the  Eastern  original,  so  childlike  and  yet 
so  sage,  so  simple  yet  so  profound,  so  tender  in  feeling  yet  so  strong  in  sense.”— 
Standard, 


FAITH; 


Oil,  ISLAM’S  ROSARY. 


LONDON  : TRUBNER  k CO.,  LUDGATE  HILL. 

S 


tbe  same  Hutbor. 


Popular  Edition,  fcap.  8vo,  limp  parchment,  price  2s.  6d. 
Library  Edition,  crown  8vo,  cloth,  price  7s.  6d. 

THE  LIGHT  OF  ASIA; 

Or,  the  GKEAT  RENUNCIATION. 


Being  tlie  Life  and  Teaching  of  Gautama,  Prince  of  India  and 
Founder  of  Buddhism. 

(As  told  in  verse  by  an  Indian  Buddhist.) 


OPINIONS  OF  THE  PBESS. 

“It  is  a work  of  great  beauty.  It  tells  a story  of  intense  interest, 
wliicb  never  flags  for  a moment ; its  descriptions  are  drawn  by  the  hand 
of  a master  with  the  eye  of  a poet  and  the  familiarity  of  .an  expert  with 
the  objects  described  ; its  tone  is  so  lofty  that  there  is  nothing  with 
which  to  conijiare  it  but  the  New  Testament ; it  is  full  of  variety,  now 
picturesque,  now  pathetic,  now  rising  into  the  noblest  realms  of  thought 
and  aspir.ation  ; it  finds  language  penetniting,  fluent,  elevated,  impas- 
sioned, musical  .always,  to  clothe  its  varied  thoughts  and  sentiments.” — 
Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  International  Review. 

“ Mr.  Arnold,  one  of  the  most  musical  and  thoughtful  of  modern  writers 
of  verse,  has  given  to  the  world  in  ‘ The  Light  of  Asia  ’ a poem  which  is 
for  many  reasons  remarkable.  . . . Entirely  apart  from  the  vivid  beauty 
of  the  scene  as  set  forth  in  these  noble  lines,  it  is  worthy  of  note  with 
what  inimitable  success  the  figure  of  onomatopoeia  is  employed ; it  is 
impossible  to  conceive  of  anything  more  perfect  in  this  way  than  such  a 
line  as  that  descriptive  of  the  successive  rises  of  the  (Himalayan)  preci- 
pice. . . . Not  the  least  of  his  merits  is  that  he  writes  such  pure  and 
delicious  English.  . . ‘ The  Light  of  Asia'  is  a noble  and  worthy  poem.” 
— Morning  Post. 

“At  the  same  time  it  may  be  said  that  there  is  scarcely  a line  which 
does  not  bear  the  stamp  of  the  genuine  poet,  whether  we  regard  the 
general  loftiness  of  the  tone,  the  nobility  of  the  sentiment  expressed,  the 
richness  of  imagery,  or  the  music  of  rhythm.  If  the  sweetness  of  lan- 
gu.age  sometimes  cloys  our  Northern  taste,  which  requires  moie  of  the 
rugged  and  heroic  as  a foil  to  the  ethereal,  the  fault  must  not  be  charged 
111)011  the  singer,  but  upon  the  subject  with  which  ho  deals.” — Examiner. 

“ But  it  is  not  merely  on  account  of  its  subject  that  this  poem  deserves 
attention  ; it  is  full  of  poetic  merit,  and  its  descriptions  are  often  ex- 
ceedingly beautiful.” — Athenceum. 

“No  poetical  work  so  thoroughly  original  as  that  of  Mr.  Edwin  Arnold 
lins  .appeared  for  many  years.  And  it  is  not  only  original  in  its  character, 
but  strikingly  beautiful  in  its  language.  The  author  by  this  poem  takes 
a rank  ns  a poet  which  probably  would  not  have  been  predicted  for  him 
even  by  the  most  ardent  admirer  of  his  ‘Indian  Song  of  Songs."' — 
Northern  Whig. 


5 


“ In  his  finer  moments  he  writes  with  a power,  a movement,  and 
a variety  of  cadence  not  easily  to  be  m.atched  in  ilays  when  the  art  of 
blank  verse  is  so  little  legitimately  studied  ; and  with  a vigorous  beauty 
of  diction  inclining  to  the  Saxon  forms,  but  not  thereby  losing  scholarly 
elegance.  . . . Man  and  nature,  in  Mr.  Arnold's  book,  are  thorougbly 
Indian.  Not  the  least  among  the  great  merits  of  his  work  is  its  glowing 
local  colour." — New  Quarterly  Mayazine. 

“ Mr.  Arnold’s  magnificent  poem,  which  is  alike  remarkable  for  its 
prodigious  erudition,  its  vivid  local  colour,  and  the  exquisite  polish  and 
melody  of  its  rhythm.” — Liverpool  Mail. 

“ ‘ The  Light  of  Asia’  is  charming  to  rea<l,  suggestive  of  thought,  and 
deserving  of  study.  . . . For  elevation  of  thought,  uniformly  iiicturesque 
and  appropriate  expression,  and  faultless  music  of  rhythm — these  quali- 
ties sustained  throughout  a long  and  symmetrical  comi>osition — ‘The 
Light  of  Asia’  is  altogether  without  a rival  in  contemporary  literature. 
No  such  poem  has  appeared  since  ‘ Childe  Harold.’’’ — I'/ic  Pioneer, 
Allahabad. 

”...  As  pure  as  anything  in  Tennyson’s  ‘ Princess.’”  . . . — Bombay 
Gazelle-Summary. 

“ Mr.  Arnold  has  constructed  a poem,  which  for  affluence  of  imagina- 
tion, splendour  of  diction,  and  virile  descriptive  power,  will  not  be  easily 
matched  among  the  most  remarkable  productions  in  the  literature  of  the 
day.  . . A poem  equally  striking  for  the  novelty  of  its  conception,  its 
vigour  of  execution,  and  the  exquisite  beauty  of  its  descriptive  passages.” 
— New  York  Daily  Tribune. 

“ ‘ The  Light  of  Asia  ’ is  a remarkable  poem,  and  worthy  of  a place 
amongst  the  great  poems  of  our  time.  Sir.  Arnold  is  far  more  than  ‘ a 
coiner  of  sweet  words’ — he  is  the  exponent  of  noble  impressions.  He 
is  a scholar  and  a philosopher;  but  he  is  also  a true  singer.” — Daily 
Ttlcerraph. 

“AVith  much  skill  Mr.  Arnold  has  illustrated  his  narrative  with  a 
series  of  Indian  pictures,  the  fascination  of  which  will  be  felt  by  those 
who  know  India.” — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

“Mr.  Arnold’s  skill  has  not  failed  him.  AVith  a sure  hand  he  has 
limned  for  us  a portrait  which  is  admirable  in  its  fidelity  to  the  accepted 
traditions  of  the  original,  which  his  knowledge  of  India  and  her  people 
has  enabled  him  to  surround  with  the  proper  accessories,  without  once 
descending  to  the  commonplace.  . . . On  these,  as  on  other  points, 
however,  the  author’s  wide  knowledge  of  India  and  genuine  interest  in 
his  subject  enhance  the  value  of  his  researches,  and  entitle  his  opinions 
to  respect,  while  his  powers  of  description  carry  the  reader  with  them. 
In  fact,  in  reading  this  remarkable  poem,  many  will  in  imagination  be 
transported  again  to  the  East,  or  revive  with  jileasure,  in  wonderful 
freshness,  long  dormant  memories  of  that  far-off  land.”— 0'<serrer. 

“ AVe  must  testify  to  the  grace  and  beauty  of  the  poem.  It  is  in  truth 
an  ‘ Idyll  of  the  King,’  with  Gautama  instead  of  Arthur  for  its  hero,  and 
Nirvfina  instead  of  the  Christian  ideal  and  the  Holy  Graal  as  his  aim. 
There  is  a fragrance  of  Tennyson's  best  poems  about  it,  and  there  is  no 
slavish  imitation  of  the  Laureate.” — Edinburgh  Courant. 

“ It  is  as  a poem  first,  and  afterwards  as  a fine  ethical  study,  that  the 
work  demands  attention,  and  in  both  of  these  characters  it  is  a work  of 
an  unusually  high  oxdtT.”— Evening  Post,  New  York. 


I 


6 


“ III  Mr.  Edwin  Arnold,  Indian  iioetry  and  Indian  tlionglit  liave  at 
lengtli  found  a worthy  English  exponent.  He  brings  to  his  work  the 
facility  of  a ready  pen,  a thorough  knowledge  of  his  subject,  a great 
sympathy  for  the  people  of  the  country,  and  a command  of  imhlic  atten- 
tion at  home.” — Calcutta  Englishman. 

“ One  is  the  more  surprised  in  reading  this  poem  to  learn  that  the 
writer  has  created  this  lovely  work  of  art,  not  in  the  stillness  of  a coun  ry 
solitude,  nor  amid  the  cloistered  aisles  of  universities,  but  right  in  the 
throng  and  uproar  of  the  bustling  metropolis.” — Springfield  Sunday 
Republican. 

“ Mr.  Arnold  may  be  congratulated  on  the  successful  accomplishment 
of  the  difficult  task  he  has  set  himself  ; and  those  who  feel  at  all  in 
sympathy  with  the  subject  will  be  able  to  appreciate  the  beauty  of  the 
picture  he  has  drawn.” — Academy. 

“ "U'e  have  no  doubt  that  this  poem  will  make  its  mark,  for  it  worthily 
treats  a great  theme.  Future  years  may  perhaps  see  it  translated  into 
some  languages  of  the  East  in  those  countries  where  the  name  of  Buddha 
is  venerated,  and  his  doctrine,  with  many  adjuncts  and  corruptions,  is 
followed  to  this  day.” — Tablet. 

“ ‘The  Light  of  Asia'  should  have  many  readers,  and  it  certainly  will 
add  not  a little  to  Jlr.  Arnold’s  literary  reputation.” — Eastern  Morning 
Neics. 

“ This  is  no  criticism  of  a religion  supposed  to  be  false,  but  the  sympa- 
thetic presentment  of  a religion,  so  much  of  which  is  true,  as  from  the 
mouth  of  a votary.” — Westcrii  Morning  Ifeu-s. 

“ In  looking  through  the  volume,  one  is  struck  with  wonder  at  the 
marvellous  richness  of  its  imagery,  its  profundity  of  thought  and  purity 
of  diction.  . . . Thus  ends  one  of  the  most  remarkable  books  of  the  day, 
and  one  which  is  destined  to  do  a great  work  in  enlightening  English 
readers.” — Boston  Evening  Transcript. 

" For  brilliancy  of  imagination,  flow  and  picturesqueness  of  language, 
strength  and  vigour  of  expression,  depth  of  thought,  and  fascinating 
melody  of  versification,  this  work  stands  almost  without  a rival  in  modern 
poetry.  . . . The  local  colour  of  the  scenes  amid  which  the  story  passes 
is  reproduced  with  a skill  little  short  of  marvellous.  Grace,  impressive 
dignity,  nobility  of  sentiment,  and  the  highest  religious  aspirations  dis- 
tinguish the  tone  of  this  masterly  poem  from  beginning  to  end.  It  often 
rises  to  sublimity,  and  never  sinks  below  loftiness  either  in  thought  or 
expres.sion.  . . . Every  page  of  this  volume  will  afford  pleasure  to  the 
cultureil  reader,  and  to  the  lover  of  true  poetry  it  will  be  a perpetual 
delight.” — Boston  Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 

“ It  is  as  a poem  first,  and  afterwards  ns  a fine  ethical  study,  that  the 
work  demands  attention,  and  in  both  of  these  charactei-s  it  is  a work  of 
an  unusually  high  order,  a gre.at  work  despite  certain  inequalities  of 
execution,  which  are  not  worth  pointing  out  in  detail.” — Troy  [N.  Y.) 
Press. 

“ It  must  be  said  of  Mr.  Arnold,  however,  that  he  made  remarkable 
use  of  his  time  while  in  Hindostan,  winning  not  only  the  decoration  of 
the  Order  of  the  .Star  of  India,  but,  by  patient  investigation  concerning 
the  religion  and  the  language  of  the  ruling  classes  and  tribes,  now  giving 
to  the  world  an  epic  glowing  in  its  imagery,  exquisite  in  its  description, 
and  of  rare  excellence  in  its  religious,  philosophical,  and  literary  a.spects.” 
— The  Weekly  Item,  Philadelphia. 


7 


“ Nothing  like  it,  indeed,  has  appeared  for  many  years  ; and  whether 
we  consider  the  majesty  of  its  theme,  the  grace  and  s(>lendour  of  its 
workmanship,  the  freshness  of  its  details,  or  the  circumstances  of  its 
authorship,  it  is  alike  one  of  the  remarkable  works  of  modern  litera- 
ture.”— Boston  Literary  iVorlJ. 

“ . . . The  really  sublime  poem  which  Mr.  Arnold  puts  into  the  mouth 
of  a Buddhist  devotee  who  speaks  throughout,  now  in  eloquent  and  highly 
ornate  description,  anon  in  vivid  narrative,  again  in  rapt  worship.  . . . 

“ We  cannot  spare  the  space  to  enter  upon  the  story  of  Buddha  as  told 
by  Mr.  Arnold,  since  it  is  a duty  to  point  out  how  artistically  he  has 
wrought  up  his  epic  with  many  a gem  of  purest  ray  serene,  and  passages 
that  thrill  through  as  we  rend  them,  and  recall  the  glorious  Orient  scenes 
that  gave  such  thoughts  their  birth.  . . . 

“ To  criticise  is  impossible ; we  can  only  admire  and  wonder  at  the 
wealth  and  the  truth  of  epithet  at  the  command  of  one  who  has  composed 
his  poem  ‘in  the  brief  interval  of  days  without  leisure.’  Yet,  if  we  do 
not  err,  ‘ The  Light  of  A.sia  ’ will  live  in  our  language  for  many  a long 
year.  It  is  one  of  those  works  which  grow  upon  the  attention.  It  has 
within  it  enduring  merits,  and  it  will  be  more  popular  and  better  com- 
prehended a generation  hence  than  it  is  to-day.  Many  are  the  names  of 
prominent  men  who  stand  ujion  the  list  of  the  winners  of  the  ‘ Newdi- 
gate.’  By  this  one  work  Mr.  Edwin  Arnold  overtojo  them  all,  and  enters 
the  narrow  circle  of  the  Masters.” — Morning  Advertisir. 

“ At  last  we  have  a classic — a work  of  inspiration  and  power,  which 
must  broaden  and  brighten  humanity,  and  give  delight  to  many  genera- 
tions. The  praise  with  which  the  higher  critics  have  greeted  ‘ The  Light 
of  Asia  ' will  not  prepare  the  reader  for  disappointment.’  As  editor  of 
the  London  Daily  TeUirraph,  the  author  can  hardly  be  called  a man  of 
leisure ; yet  his  lofty  verse  seems  to  have  sung  itself  out  of  the  regions 
of  mystic  calm  ; and  even  as  a piece  of  literary  work  it  wears  an  elegant 
finish  and  masterly  completeness. 

“Surely  it  is  by  sucli  messages  as  this  poem  bears  that  the  Christians 
who  believe  too  narrowly,  and  the  sceptics  who  believe  not  at  all,  learn 
the  truth  of  what  our  own  Lowell  sang — 

‘ God  sends  His  teachers  into  every  age  and  clime. 

With  revelations  suited  to  their  growth.’ 

“ The  essence  of  the  life  of  Prince  Siddartha  or  Gautama  is  here  dis- 
tilled from  the  mingled  mass  of  historic  fact  and  legend,  without  loss  of 
the  rich  aroma.” — The  Christian  Register,  Boston. 

“ . . . It  is  as  worthy  of  his  pen  as  the  poet  has  showed  himself  worthy 
of  the  subject.  There  is  a unity  of  Oriental  colouring  in  the  descriptive 
portion  of  the  work,  a truthfulness  of  motive  evinced  in  the  masterly 
handling  of  Buddha’s  character,  which  are  as  precious  as  unique ; inas- 
much as  they  present  this  character,  for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of 
■\Vestern  literature,  in  the  totality  of  its  unadulterated  beauty.” — The 
Theosophist. 


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9 


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THE  JATAKA,  together  with  its  Commkntauy.  Being  Teles  of  the 
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Pali  b;  V.  Fausboll. 


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edited  in  tlie  original  Pali  by  V.  Fausboll,  and  tiuuslatcd  by  T.  W.  ItiiY.s 
Davis.  Translation.  Vui.  I. 


BUDDHISM  IN  SIAM. 


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BUDDHISM  IN  CHINA. 


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A CATENA  OF  BUDDHIST  SCRIPTURES  FROM  THE  CHINESE. 
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BUDDHIST  LITERATURE  IN  CHINA : Abstract  of  Four  Lectures, 
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lO 


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BUDDHISM  IN  TIBET. 

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UDANAVARGA.  A Collection  of  Verses  from  the  Buddhist  Canon. 
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Dhammapada.  Translated  from  the  Tibetan  of  Bkah-bgyur,  with  Notes  and 
Extracts  from  the  Commentary  of  Pradjnavarman.  By  W.  Woonvuix 
Rock  11  ILL. 


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LONDON  : TRUBNER  & CO.,  LUDGATE  HILL. 


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