National Epics | Page 8

circlets wound,
Then lake-like spread all bright and broad, then gently, gently flowed
around, Then 'neath the caverned earth descending, then spouted up the
boiling tide, Then stream with stream harmonious blending, swell
bubbling up and smooth subside. By that heaven-welling water's breast,
the genii and the sages stood, Its sanctifying dews they blest, and
plung'd within the lustral flood. Whoe'er beneath the curse of heaven
from that immaculate world had fled, To th' impure earth in exile
driven, to that all-holy baptism sped; And purified from every sin, to
the bright spirit's bliss restor'd, Th' ethereal sphere they entered in, and
through th' empyreal mansions soar'd. The world in solemn jubilee
beheld those heavenly waves draw near, From sin and dark pollution
free, bathed in the blameless waters clear. Swift king Bhagiratha drave
upon his lofty glittering car, And swift with her obeisant wave bright
Ganga followed him afar. _Milman's Translation._

THE DEATH OF YAJNADATTA.
The Raja Dasaratha was compelled to banish his favorite son Rama,
immediately after his marriage to Sita, because his banishment was

demanded by the Raja's wife Kaikeyi, to whom he had once promised
to grant any request she might make. His grief at the loss of his son is
described in this selection.
Scarce Rama to the wilderness had with his younger brother gone,
Abandoned to his deep distress, king Dasaratha sate alone. Upon his
sons to exile driven when thought that king, as Indra bright, Darkness
came o'er him, as in heaven when pales th' eclipsed sun his light. Six
days he sate, and mourned and pined for Rama all that weary time. At
midnight on his wandering mind rose up his old forgotten crime. His
queen, Kausalya, the divine, addressed he, as she rested near:
"Kausalya, if thou wakest, incline to thy lord's speech thy ready ear.
Whatever deed, or good or ill, by man, O blessed queen, is wrought. Its
proper fruit he gathers still, by time to slow perfection brought. He who
the opposing counsel's weight compares not in his judgment cool, Or
misery or bliss his fate, among the sage is deemed a fool. As one that
quits the Amra bower, the bright Palasa's pride to gain Mocked by the
promise of its flower, seeks its unripening fruit in vain, So I the lovely
Amra left for the Palasa's barren bloom, Through mine own fatal error
'reft of banished Rama, mourn in gloom. Kausalya! in my early youth
by my keen arrow, at his mark Aimed with too sure and deadly truth,
was wrought a deed most fell and dark. At length, the evil that I did,
hath fallen upon my fated head, As when on subtle poison hid an
unsuspecting child hath fed; Even as that child unwittingly hath made
the poisonous fare his food, Even so, in ignorance by me was wrought
that deed of guilt and blood. Unwed wert thou in virgin bloom, and I in
youth's delicious prime, The season of the rains had come,--that soft
and love enkindling time. Earth's moisture all absorbed, the sun through
all the world its warmth had spread, Turned from the north, its course
begun, where haunt the spirits of the dead: Gathering o'er all the
horizon's bound on high the welcome clouds appeared, Exulting, all the
birds flew round,--cranes, cuckoos, peacocks, flew and veered. And all
down each wide-watered shore the troubled, yet still limpid floods,
Over their banks began to pour, as o'er them hung the bursting clouds.
And, saturate with cloud-born dew, the glittering verdant-mantled earth,
The cuckoos and the peacocks flew, disputing as in drunken mirth.--
"In such a time, so soft, so bland, oh beautiful! I chanced to go. With
quiver and with bow in hand, where clear Sarayu's waters flow, If haply

to the river's brink at night the buffalo might stray, Or elephant, the
stream to drink,--intent my savage game to slay. Then of a water cruse,
as slow it filled, the gurgling sound I heard, Nought saw I, but the
sullen low of elephant that sound appeared. The swift well-feathered
arrow I upon the bowstring fitting straight, Towards the sound the shaft
let fly, ah, cruelly deceived by fate! The winged arrow scarce had
flown, and scarce had reached its destined aim, 'Ah me, I'm slain,' a
feeble moan in trembling human accents came. 'Ah, whence hath come
this fatal shaft against a poor recluse like me, Who shot that bolt with
deadly craft,--alas! what cruel man is he? At the lone midnight had I
come to draw the river's limpid flood, And here am struck to death, by
whom? ah whose this wrongful deed of blood? Alas! and in my parents'
heart, the old, the blind, and hardly fed, In the wild wood, hath pierced
the dart, that here hath struck