Ancient Ballads and Legends of Hindustan | Page 7

while it lasts. Day follows day in one long round, Monotonous and blank and drear; Less painful were it to be bound On some bleak rock, for aye to hear-- Without one chance of getting free-- The ocean's melancholy voice! Mine be the sin,--if sin there be, But thou must make a different choice."
In the meek grace of virginhood Unblanched her cheek, undimmed her eye, Savitri, like a statue, stood, Somewhat austere was her reply. "Once, and once only, all submit To Destiny,--'tis God's command; Once, and once only, so 'tis writ, Shall woman pledge her faith and hand; Once, and once only, can a sire Unto his well-loved daughter say, In presence of the witness fire, I give thee to this man away.
"Once, and once only, have I given My heart and faith--'tis past recall; With conscience none have ever striven, And none may strive, without a fall. Not the less solemn was my vow Because unheard, and oh! the sin Will not be less, if I should now Deny the feeling felt within. Unwedded to my dying day I must, my father dear, remain; 'Tis well, if so thou will'st, but say Can man balk Fate, or break its chain?
"If Fate so rules, that I should feel The miseries of a widow's life, Can man's device the doom repeal? Unequal seems to be a strife, Between Humanity and Fate; None have on earth what they desire; Death comes to all or soon or late; And peace is but a wandering fire; Expediency leads wild astray; The Right must be our guiding star; Duty our watchword, come what may; Judge for me, friends,--as wiser far."
She said, and meekly looked to both. The father, though he patient heard, To give the sanction still seemed loth, But Narad Muni took the word. "Bless thee, my child! 'Tis not for us To question the Almighty will, Though cloud on cloud loom ominous, In gentle rain they may distil." At this, the monarch--"Be it so! I sanction what my friend approves; All praise to Him, whom praise we owe; My child shall wed the youth she loves."
PART II.
Great joy in Madra. Blow the shell The marriage over to declare! And now to forest-shades where dwell The hermits, wend the wedded pair. The doors of every house are hung With gay festoons of leaves and flowers; And blazing banners broad are flung, And trumpets blown from castle towers! Slow the procession makes its ground Along the crowded city street: And blessings in a storm of sound At every step the couple greet.
Past all the houses, past the wall, Past gardens gay, and hedgerows trim, Past fields, where sinuous brooklets small With molten silver to the brim Glance in the sun's expiring light, Past frowning hills, past pastures wild, At last arises on the sight, Foliage on foliage densely piled, The woods primeval, where reside The holy hermits;--henceforth here Must live the fair and gentle bride: But this thought brought with it no fear.
Fear! With her husband by her still? Or weariness! Where all was new? Hark! What a welcome from the hill! There gathered are a hermits few. Screaming the peacocks upward soar; Wondering the timid wild deer gaze; And from Briarean fig-trees hoar Look down the monkeys in amaze As the procession moves along; And now behold, the bridegroom's sire With joy comes forth amid the throng;-- What reverence his looks inspire!
Blind! With his partner by his side! For them it was a hallowed time! Warmly they greet the modest bride With her dark eyes and front sublime! One only grief they feel.--Shall she Who dwelt in palace halls before, Dwell in their huts beneath the tree? Would not their hard life press her sore;-- The manual labour, and the want Of comforts that her rank became, Valkala robes, meals poor and scant, All undermine the fragile frame?
To see the bride, the hermits' wives And daughters gathered to the huts, Women of pure and saintly lives! And there beneath the betel-nuts Tall trees like pillars, they admire Her beauty, and congratulate The parents, that their hearts' desire Had thus accorded been by Fate, And Satyavan their son had found In exile lone, a fitting mate: And gossips add,--good signs abound; Prosperity shall on her wait.
Good signs in features, limbs, and eyes, That old experience can discern, Good signs on earth and in the skies, That it could read at every turn. And now with rice and gold, all bless The bride and bridegroom,--and they go Happy in others' happiness, Each to her home, beneath the glow Of the late risen moon that lines With silver, all the ghost-like trees, Sals, tamarisks, and South-Sea pines, And palms whose plumes wave in the breeze.
False was the fear, the parents felt, Savitri liked her new life