Say thus-Thy lord o'er Rama's mountain strays,
Nor cares but those of absence blight his days;
His only wish by me, his friend, to know
If he is bless'd with health, that thou art so;
For still this fear especially must wait
On every creature of our passing state.
'What though to distance driven by wrath diImagination joins his form with thine; Such as I view is his emaciate frame; Such his regrets, his scorching pangs the same To every sigh of thine his sigh replies, And tears responsive trickle from his eyes.
"By thee unheard, by those bright eyes unseen,
Since fate resists and regions intervene;
To me the message of his love consign'd,
Portrays the sufferings of his constant mind.
Oh, were he present, fondly would he seek,
In secret whisper, that inviting cheek;
Woo thee in close approach his words to hear,
And breathe these tender accents in thine ear'-
'Goddess beloved! how vainly I explore
The world to trace the semblance I adore;
Thy graceful form the flexile tendril shows,
And like thy locks the peacock's plumage glows;
Mild as thy cheeks, the moon's new beams appear,
And those soft eyes adorn the timid deer;
In ripling brooks thy curling brows I see,
But only view combined these charms in thee.
"Even in these wilds our unrelenting fate
Proscribes the union, love and art create;
When, with the colours that the rock supplies,
O'er the rude stone thy pictured beauties rise,
Fain would I think once more we fondly meet,
And seek to fall in homage at thy feet.
In vain; for envious tears my purpose blight,
And veil the lovely image from my sight.
Why should the god*, who wields the five-fold dart,
Direct his shafts at this afflicted heart;
Nor spare to agonize an aching breast,
By sultry suns and banishment oppress'd:
Oh! that these heavy hours would swiftly fly,
And lead a happier fate and milder sky.
'Believe me, dearest, that my doom severe Obtains from heavenly eyes the frequent tear, And where the spirits of these groves + attend, The pitying drops in pearly showers descend; As oft in sleep they mark my outstretch'd arms, That clasp in blissful dreams thy fancied charms, Play through the air, and fold in fond embrace Impassive matter and ethereal space.
'Soft and delightful to my senses blows The breeze that southward wafts Himala's snows, And rich impregnated with gums divine, Exuding fragrant from the shatter'd pine, Diffusing sweets to all, but most to me; Has it not touch'd, does it not breathe of thee? 'What are my tasks: to speed the lagging night, And urge impatiently the rising light; The light return'd, I sicken at the ray, And shun as eagerly the shining day: Vain are my labours in this lonely state; But fate proscribes, and we must bow to fate. Let then my firmness save thee from despair, Who trust myself, nor sink beneath my care; Trust to futurity, for still we view
The always wretched, always bless'd, are few:
*Camadeva, the Hindu Cupid, whose shafts are represented as being tipped with five different flowers.
+ Literally the deities of the soit.
Life, like a wheel's revolving orb, turns round, Now whirl'd in air, now dragg'd along the ground. 'When, from his serpent couch that swims the Sarangi rises from celestial sleep*; [deep,
When four more months unmark'd have run their
To us all gloom, the curse has lost its force:
The grief from separation born expires,
And Autumn's nights reward our chaste desires.
'Once more I view thee as mine eyes unclose,
Laid by my side, and lull'd by soft repose;
And now I mark thee startle from thy sleep,
Loose thy enfolding arms, and wake to weep:
My anxious love long vainly seeks reply,
Till, as the smile relumes that lucid eye,
Thy arch avowal owns, that jealous fear
Affrighted slumber, and aroused the tear. [eyes!
'While thus, oh goddess with the dark black
My fond assurance confidence supplies,
Let not the tales that idle tattlers bear
Subvert thy faith, nor teach thee to despair.
True love no time nor distance can destroy,
And independent of all present joy,
It grows in absence, as renew'd delight
Some dear memorials, some loved lines, excite.'
Such, vast dispenser of the dews of heaven,
Such is my suit, and such thy promise given;
Fearless upon thy friendship I rely,
Nor ask that promise, nor expect reply.
The serpent couch is the great snake ananta, upon which Vishnu, or, as he is called, the holder of the bow Sarnga reclines during the four months of the periodical rains.
DESCRIPTION OF A HINDU BEAUTY.
FROM THE HINDEE.
MARK, her slender form bend low,
As the zephyrs lightly blow:
Mark, her robe, like blossoms rare,
Scatter fragrance on the air:
See, her face as soft moon beaming;
From her smiles ambrosia streaming;
And on brows, more white than snow,
See, the raven tresses glow!
Lotuslike her dewy feet
Treasures yield of nectar'd sweet:
Light as on her footsteps pass,
Blushes* all the bending grass;
And rings of jewels, Beauty's powers,
Freshen into living flowers+:
While brighter tints, and rosier hues,
All the smiling earth suffuse.
Written after being at Sea for the first Time.
FROM THE PUSHTO.
THE sage who first refused to roam
Through foreign climes in quest of gain, But bade us prize the joys of home,
Thought of thy dangers, fearful main!
The Hindu ladies are accustomed to stain the soles of their
feet with a crimson dye, named jaubuk.
+ In the East, ornaments of gold, jewelry, &c. are commonly made in the forms of different flowers.
What though the bread on shore we taste
Be purchased oft with toil and pain,
A loaf is better than a feast,
When purchased on the brackish main.
Like ocean's depths, as poets tell,
Spreads the abyss of endless pain;
But not the deepest pit of hell
Can match thy horrors, frightful main !
Ashore each pleasant breeze that blows
Might soothe to rest a soul in pain;
But heart and liver, torn with throes,
Leap to your lips when on the main.
When o'er your bark the tempests beat,
With lightning, thunder, wind, and rain,
There's nought to be your windingsheet
Save the white foam that streaks the main.
Ashore, e'en strangers strangers greet
In phrase polite and courteous strain;
But bitter oaths are all you meet
When journeying on the savage main.
On shore a thousand pleasures rise
To soothe fatigue and banish pain;
But every joy and pleasure flies
From him who travels on the main.
Scenes fair, sublime, and strange and new,
Arrest the eye on hill or plain :
Nought, save the foamy waves you view,
When journeying on the desert main.
The parrot pent in wiry cage
Its fluttering pinions beats in vain; So vain our grief, so vain our rage, When reeling on the restless main.
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