The Light of Asia | Page 8

heaven and speak with gods.?Beneath the snows dark forests spread, sharp laced?With leaping cataracts and veiled with clouds?Lower grew rose-oaks and the great fir groves?Where echoed pheasant's call and panther's cry?Clatter of wild sheep on the stones, and scream?Of circling eagles: under these the plain?Gleamed like a praying-carpet at the foot?Of those divinest altars. 'Fronting this?The builders set the bright pavilion up,?'Fair-planted on the terraced hill, with towers?On either flank and pillared cloisters round.?Its beams were carved with stories of old time--?Radha and Krishna and the sylvan girls--?Sita and Hanuman and Draupadi;?And on the middle porch God Ganesha,?With disc and hook--to bring wisdom and wealth--?Propitious sate, wreathing his sidelong trunk.?By winding ways of garden and of court?The inner gate was reached, of marble wrought,?White with pink veins; the lintel lazuli,?The threshold alabaster, and the doors?Sandalwood, cut in pictured panelling;?Whereby to lofty halls and shadowy bowers?Passed the delighted foot, on stately stairs,?Through latticed galleries, 'neath painted roofs?And clustering columns, where cool fountains--fringed?With lotus and nelumbo--danced, and fish?Gleamed through their crystal, scarlet, gold, and blue.?Great-eyed gazelles in sunny alcoves browsed?The blown red roses; birds of rainbow wing?Fluttered among the palms; doves, green and grey,?Built their safe nests on gilded cornices;?Over the shining pavements peacocks drew?The splendours of their trains, sedately watched?By milk-white herons and the small house-owls.?The plum-necked parrots swung from fruit to fruit;?The yellow sunbirds whirred from bloom to bloom,?The timid lizards on the lattice basked?Fearless, the squirrels ran to feed from hand,?For all was peace: the shy black snake, that gives?Fortune to households, sunned his sleepy coils?Under the moon-flowers, where the musk-deer played,?And brown-eyed monkeys chattered to the crows.?And all this house of love was peopled fair?With sweet attendance, so that in each part?With lovely sights were gentle faces found,?Soft speech and willing service, each one glad?To gladden, pleased at pleasure, proud to obey;?Till life glided beguiled, like a smooth stream?Banked by perpetual flowers, Yasodhara?Queen of the enchanting Court.
But innermost,?Beyond the richness of those hundred halls,?A secret chamber lurked, where skill had spent?All lovely fantasies to lull the mind.?The entrance of it was a cloistered square--?Roofed by the sky, and in the midst a tank--?Of milky marble built, and laid with slabs?Of milk-white marble; bordered round the tank?And on the steps, and all along the frieze?With tender inlaid work of agate-stones.?Cool as to tread in summer-time on snows?It was to loiter there; the sunbeams dropped?Their gold, and, passing into porch and niche,?Softened to shadows, silvery, pale, and dim,?As if the very Day paused and grew Eve.?In love and silence at that bower's gate;?For there beyond the gate the chamber was,?Beautiful, sweet; a wonder of the world!?Soft light from perfumed lamps through windows fell?Of nakre and stained stars of lucent film?On golden cloths outspread, and silken beds,?And heavy splendour of the purdah's fringe,?Lifted to take only the loveliest in.?Here, whether it was night or day none knew,?For always streamed that softened light, more bright?Than sunrise, but as tender as the eve's;?And always breathed sweet airs, more joy-giving?Than morning's, but as cool as midnight's breath;?And night and day lutes sighed, and night and day?Delicious foods were spread, and dewy fruits,?Sherbets new chilled with snows of Himalay,?And sweetmeats made of subtle daintiness,?With sweet tree-milk in its own ivory cup.?And night and day served there a chosen band?Of nautch girls, cup-bearers, and cymballers,?Delicate, dark-browed ministers of love,?Who fanned the sleeping eyes of the happy Prince,?And when he waked, led back his thoughts to bliss?With music whispering through the blooms, and charm?Of amorous songs and dreamy dances, linked?By chime of ankle-bells and wave of arms?And silver vina-strings; while essences?Of musk and champak and the blue haze spread?From burning spices soothed his soul again?To drowse by sweet Yasodhara; and thus?Siddartha lived forgetting.
Furthermore,?The King commanded that within those walls?No mention should be made of death or age,?Sorrow, or pain, or sickness. If one drooped?In the lovely Court--her dark glance dim, her feet?Faint in the dance--the guiltless criminal?Passed forth an exile from that Paradise,?Lest he should see and suffer at her woe.?Bright-eyed intendants watched to execute?Sentence on such as spake of the harsh world?Without, where aches and plagues were, tears
and fears,?And wail of mourners, and grim fume of pyres.?`T was treason if a thread of silver strayed?In tress of singing-girl or nautch-dancer;?And every dawn the dying rose was plucked,?The dead leaves hid, all evil sights removed?For said the King, "If he shall pass his youth?Far from such things as move to wistfulness,?And brooding on the empty eggs of thought,?The shadow of this fate, too vast for man,?May fade, belike, and I shall see him grow?To that great stature of fair sovereignty?When he shall rule all lands--if he will rule--?The King of kings and glory of his time."
Wherefore, around that pleasant prison house?Where love was gaoler and delights its bars,?But far removed from sight--the King bade build?A massive wall,