Indias Love Lyrics

The Project Gutenberg EBook of India's Love Lyrics, by Laurence
Hope et al
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Title: India's Love Lyrics
Author: Laurence Hope et al
Release Date: May, 2005 [EBook #8197]
[This file was first posted
on July 1, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: US-ASCII
0. START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, INDIA'S

LOVE LYRICS ***
E-text prepared by Gordon Keener
Editorial note: Laurence Hope was the pen name of Adela Florence
Cory
Nicolson. Born in 1865, she was
educated in England.
A t age 16 she joined her father in India,
where she
spent most of her adult life. In 1889
she married Col.
Malcolm H. Nicolson, a man twice her
age. She committed
suicide two months after his death in
1904.
INDIA'S LOVE LYRICS
by LAURENCE HOPE
"Less than the Dust"
Less than the dust, beneath thy Chariot wheel,
Less than the rust, that
never stained thy Sword,
Less than the trust thou hast in me, O Lord,
Even less than these!
Less than the weed, that grows beside thy door,
Less than the speed
of hours spent far from thee,
Less than the need thou hast in life of
me.
Even less am I.
Since I, O Lord, am nothing unto thee,
See here thy Sword, I make it
keen and bright,
Love's last reward, Death, comes to me to-night,
Farewell, Zahir-u-din.
"To the Unattainable"

Oh, that my blood were water, thou athirst,
And thou and I in some
far Desert land,
How would I shed it gladly, if but first
It touched
thy lips, before it reached the sand.
Once,--Ah, the Gods were good to me,--I threw
Myself upon a poison
snake, that crept
Where my Beloved--a lesser love we knew
Than
this which now consumes me wholly--slept.
But thou; Alas, what can I do for thee?
By Fate, and thine own beauty,
set above
The need of all or any aid from me,
Too high for service,
as too far for love.
"In the Early, Pearly Morning":
Song by Valgovind
The fields are full of Poppies, and the skies are very blue, By the
Temple in the coppice, I wait, Beloved, for you.
The level land is
sunny, and the errant air is gay,
With scent of rose and honey; will
you come to me to-day?
From carven walls above me, smile lovers; many a pair.
"Oh, take
this rose and love me!" she has twined it in her hair. He advances, she
retreating, pursues and holds her fast,
The sculptor left them meeting,
in a close embrace at last.
Through centuries together, in the carven stone they lie,
In the glow
of golden weather, and endless azure sky.
Oh, that we, who have for
pleasure so short and scant a stay, Should waste our summer leisure;
will you come to me to-day?
The Temple bells are ringing, for the marriage month has come. I hear
the women singing, and the throbbing of the drum.
And when the
song is failing, or the drums a moment mute,
The weirdly wistful
wailing of the melancholy flute.
Little life has got to offer, and little man to lose,
Since to-day Fate
deigns to proffer, Oh wherefore, then, refuse To take this transient hour,

in the dusky Temple gloom
While the poppies are in flower, and the
mangoe trees abloom.
And if Fate remember later, and come to claim her due,
What sorrow
will be greater than the Joy I had with you?
For to-day, lit by your
laughter, between the crushing years, I will chance, in the hereafter,
eternities of tears.
Reverie of Mahomed Akram at the Tamarind Tank
The