Oh, if the Lord of Heaven could find no rest, Think, think how Love, strong Love, can tear a mortal's breast!

_CANTO SEVENTH._

Canto Seventh.

_UMa'S BRIDAL._

In light and glory dawned the expected day Blest with a kindly star's auspicious ray, When gaily gathered at HIMaLAYA'S call His kinsmen to the solemn festival.

Through the broad city every dame's awake To grace the bridal for her monarch's sake; So great their love for him, this single care Makes one vast household of the thousands there.

Heaven is not brighter than the royal street Where flowers lie scattered 'neath the n.o.bles' feet, And banners waving to the breeze unfold Their silken broidery over gates of gold.

And she, their child, upon her bridal day Bears her dear parents' every thought away.

So, when from distant sh.o.r.es a friend returns, With deeper love each inmost spirit burns.

So, when grim Death restores his prey again Joy brighter shines from memory of pain.

Each n.o.ble matron of HIMaLAYA'S race Folds his dear UMa in a long embrace, Pours blessings on her head, and prays her take Some priceless jewel for her friendship's sake.

With sweetest influence a star of power Had joined the spotted moon: at that blest hour To deck fair UMa many a n.o.ble dame And many a gentle maid a.s.siduous came.

And well she graced their toil, more brightly fair With feathery gra.s.s and wild flowers in her hair.

A silken robe flowed free below her waist; Her sumptuous head a glittering arrow graced.

So shines the young unclouded moon at last, Greeting the sun, its darksome season past.

Sweet-scented Lodhra dust and Sandal dyed The delicate beauties of the fair young bride, Veiled with a soft light robe. Her tiring-girls Then led her to a chamber decked with pearls And paved with sapphires, where the lulling sound Of choicest music breathed divinely round.

There o'er the lady's limbs they poured by turns Streams of pure water from their golden urns.

Fresh from the cooling bath the lovely maid In fairest white her tender form arrayed.

So opens the Kasa all her shining flowers Lured from their buds by softly falling showers.

Then to a court with canopies o'erhead A crowd of n.o.ble dames the maiden led-- A court for solemn rites, where gems and gold Adorn the pillars that the roof uphold.

There on a couch they set her with her face Turned toward the east. So lovely then the grace Of that dear maid, so ravishing her smile, E'en her attendants turned to gaze awhile; For though the brightest gems around her lay, Her brighter beauty stole their eyes away.

Through her long tresses one a chaplet wound, And one with fragrant gra.s.s her temples crowned, While o'er her head sweet clouds of incense rolled To try and perfume every shining fold.

Bright dyes of saffron and the scented wood Adorned her beauty, till the maiden stood Fairer than GANGa when the Love-birds play O'er sandy islets in her silvery bay.

To what rare beauty shall her maids compare Her clear brow shaded by her glossy hair?

Less dazzling pure the lovely lotus shines Flecked by the thronging bees in dusky lines.

Less bright the moon, when a dark band of cloud Enhances beauties which it cannot shroud.

Behind her ear a head of barley drew The eye to gaze upon its golden hue.

But then her cheek, with glowing saffron dyed, To richer beauty called the glance aside.

Though from those lips, where Beauty's guerdon lay, The vermeil tints were newly washed away, Yet o'er them, as she smiled, a ray was thrown Of quivering brightness that was all their own.

"Lay this dear foot upon thy lover's head Crowned with the moon," the laughing maiden said, Who dyed her lady's feet--no word spake she, But beat her with her wreath in playful glee.

Then tiring-women took the jetty dye To guard, not deck, the beauty of her eye, Whose languid half-shut glances might compare With lotus leaves just opening to the air; And as fresh gems adorned her neck and arms, So quickly changing grew the maiden's charms, Like some fair plant where bud succeeding bud Unfolds new beauty; or a silver flood Where gay birds follow quickly; or like night, When crowding stars come forth in all their light.

Oft as the mirror would her glance beguile She longed to meet her Lord's approving smile.

Her tasteful skill the timid maid essays To win one smile of love, one word of praise.

The happy mother took the golden dye And raised to hers young UMa'S beaming eye.

Then swelled her bosom with maternal pride As thus she decked her darling for a bride.

Oh, she had longed to trace on that fair brow The nuptial line, yet scarce could mark it now.

On UMa'S rounded arm the woollen band Was fixt securely by the nurse's hand.

Blind with the tears that filled her swimming eye, In vain the mother strove that band to tie.

Spotless as curling foam-flakes stood she there, As yielding soft, as graceful and as fair: Or like the glory of an autumn night Robed by the full moon in a veil of light.

Then at her mother's hest, the maid adored The spirit of each high ancestral lord, Nor failed she next the n.o.ble dames to greet, And give due honour to their reverend feet.

They raised the maiden as she bowed her head: "Thine be the fulness of his love!" they said.

Half of his being, blessing high as this Can add no rapture to her perfect bliss.

Well-pleased HIMaLAYA viewed the pomp and pride Meet for his daughter, meet for ['S]IVA'S bride; Then sought the hall with all his friends to wait The bridegroom's coming with a monarch's state.

Meanwhile by heavenly matrons' care displayed Upon KUVERA'S lofty mount were laid The ornaments of ['S]IVA, which of yore At his first nuptials the bridegroom wore.

He laid his hand upon the dress, but how Shall robes so sad, so holy, grace him now?

His own dire vesture took a shape as fair As gentle bridegroom's heart could wish to wear.

The withering skull that glazed the eye with dread, Shone a bright coronal to grace his head.

That elephant's hide the G.o.d had worn of old Was now a silken robe inwrought with gold.

Ere this his body was with dust besprent: With unguent now it shed delightful scent; And that mid-eye which glittering like a star Shot the wild terror of its glance afar-- So softly now its golden radiance beamed-- A mark of glory on his forehead seemed.

His twining serpents, destined still to be The pride and honour of the deity, Changed but their bodies: in each sparkling crest The blazing gems still shone their loveliest.

What need of jewels on the brow of Him Who wears the crescent moon? No spot may dim Its youthful beauty, e'en in light of day Shedding the glory of its quenchless ray.

Well-pleased the G.o.d in all his pride arrayed Saw his bright image mirrored in the blade Of the huge sword they brought; then calmly leant On NANDI'S arm, and toward his bull he went, Whose broad back covered with a tiger's hide Was steep to climb as Mount KAILaSA'S side.

Yet the dread monster humbly shrank for fear, And bowed in reverence as his Lord drew near.

The matrons followed him, a saintly throng, Their ear-rings waving as they dashed along: Sweet faces, with such glories round them shed As made the air one lovely lotus bed.

On flew those bright ones: KaLI came behind, The skulls that decked her rattling in the wind: Like the dark rack that scuds across the sky, With herald lightning and the crane's shrill cry.

Hark! from the glorious bands that lead the way, Harp, drum, and pipe, and shrilling trumpet's bray, Burst through the sky upon the startled ear And tell the G.o.ds the hour of worship's near.

They came; the SUN presents a silken shade Which heaven's own artist for the G.o.d had made, Gilding his brows, as though bright GANGa rolled Adown his holy head her waves of gold.

She in her G.o.ddess-shape divinely fair, And YAMUNa, sweet river-Nymph, were there, Fanning their Lord, that fancy still might deem Swans waved their pinions round each Lady of the Stream.

E'en BRAHMa came, Creator, Lord of Might, And VISH[N.]U glowing from the realms of light.

"Ride on," they cried, "thine, thine for ever be The strength, the glory, and the victory."

To swell his triumph that high blessing came Like holy oil upon the rising flame.

In those Three Persons the one G.o.d was shown, Each first in place, each last,--not one alone; Of ['S]IVA, VISH[N.]U, BRAHMa, each may be First, second, third, among the Blessed Three.

By INDRA led, each world-upholding Lord With folded hands the mighty G.o.d adored.

In humble robes arrayed, the pomp and pride Of glorious deity they laid aside.

They signed to NANDI, and the favourite's hand Guided his eye upon the suppliant band.

He spake to VISH[N.]U, and on INDRA smiled, To BRAHMa bowed--the lotus' mystic child.

On all the hosts of heaven his friendly eye Beamed duly welcome as they crowded nigh.

The Seven Great Saints their blessings o'er him shed, And thus in answer, with a smile, he said: "Hail, mighty Sages! hail, ye Sons of Light!

My chosen priests to celebrate this rite."

Now in sweet tones the heavenly minstrels tell His praise, beneath whose might TRIPURA fell.

He moves to go: from his moon-crest a ray Sheds quenchless light on his triumphant way.

On through the air his swift bull bore him well, Decked with the gold of many a tinkling bell; Tossing from time to time his head on high, Enwreathed with clouds as he flew racing by, As though in furious charge he had uptorn A bank of clay upon his mighty horn.

Swiftly they came where in its beauty lay The city subject to HIMaLAYA'S sway.

No foeman's foot had ever trod those halls, No foreign bands encamped around the walls.

Then ['S]IVA'S glances fixed their eager hold On that fair city as with threads of gold.

The G.o.d whose neck still gleams with cloudy blue Burst on the wondering people's upturned view, And on the earth descended, from the path His shafts once dinted in avenging wrath.

Forth from the gates a n.o.ble army poured To do meet honour to the mighty Lord.

With all his friends on elephants of state The King of Mountains pa.s.sed the city gate, So gaily decked, the princes all were seen Like moving hills inwrapt in bowery green.

As the full rushing of two streams that pour Beneath one bridge with loud tumultuous roar, So through the city's open gate streamed in Mountains and G.o.ds with tumult and with din.

So glorious was the sight, wonder and shame, When ['S]IVA bowed him, o'er the Monarch came; He knew not he had bent his lofty crest In reverent greeting to his heavenly guest HIMaLAYA, joying in the festive day, Before the immortal bridegroom led the way Where heaps of gay flowers burying half the feet Lay breathing odours through the crowded street.

Careless of all beside, each lady's eye Must gaze on ['S]IVA as the troop sweeps by.

One dark-eyed beauty will not stay to bind Her long black tresses, floating unconfined Save by her little hand; her flowery crown Hanging neglected and unfastened down.

One from her maiden tore her foot away On which the dye, all wet and streaming, lay, And o'er the chamber rushing in her haste, Where'er she stepped, a crimson footprint traced.

Another at the window takes her stand; One eye is dyed,--the pencil in her hand.