The Curse of Kehama, Volume 2 (of 2)

8.

Trembling with hope, the adventurous man descended
The sea-green light of day

Not far along the vault extended;
But where the slant reflection ended,
Another light was seen
Of red and fiery hue,
That with the water blended,
And gave the secrets of the Tombs to view.

9.

Deep in the marble rock, the Hall
Of Death was hollowed out, a chamber wide,
Low-roof’d, and long; on either side,
Each in his own alcove, and on his throne,
The Kings of old were seated: in his hand
Each held the sceptre of command,
From whence, across that scene of endless night,
A carbuncle diffused its everlasting light.

10.

So well had the embalmers done their part
With spice and precious unguents, to imbue
The perfect corpse, that each had still the hue
Of living man, and every limb was still
Supple and firm and full, as when of yore
Its motion answered to the moving will.

The robes of royalty which once they wore,
Long since had mouldered off and left them bare:
Naked upon their thrones behold them there,
Statues of actual flesh, . . a fearful sight!
Their large and rayless eyes
Dimly reflecting to that gem-born light,
Glaz’d, fix’d, and meaningless, . . . yet, open wide,
Their ghastly balls belied
The mockery of life in all beside.

11.

But if, amid these Chambers drear,
Death were a sight of shuddering and of fear,
Life was a thing of stranger horror here.
For at the farther end, in yon alcove,
Where Baly should have lain, had he obey’d
Man’s common lot, behold Ereenia laid.
Strong fetters link him to the rock; his eye
Now rolls and widens, as with effort vain
He strives to break the chain,
Now seems to brood upon his misery.
Before him couch’d there lay
One of the mighty monsters of the deep,
Whom Lorrinite encountering on the way,

There station’d, his perpetual guard to keep;
In the sport of wanton power, she charm’d him there,
As if to mock the Glendoveer’s despair.
Upward his form was human, save that here
The skin was cover’d o’er with scale on scale
Compact, a panoply of natural mail.
His mouth, from ear to ear,
Weapon’d with triple teeth, extended wide,
And tusks on either side;
A double snake below, he roll’d
His supple lengths behind in many a sinuous fold.

12.

With red and kindling eye, the Beast beholds
A living man draw nigh,
And, rising on his folds,
In hungry joy awaits the expected feast,
His mouth half-open, and his teeth unsheath’d.
Then on he sprung, and in his scaly arms
Seiz’d him, and fasten’d on his neck, to suck,
With greedy lips, the warm life-blood: and sure
But for the mighty power of magic charms,
As easily as, in the blithesome hour
Of spring, a child doth crop the meadow flower,

Piecemeal those claws
Had rent their victim, and those armed jaws
Snapt him in twain. Naked Ladurlad stood,
Yet fearless and unharm’d in this dread strife,
So well Kehama’s Curse had charm’d his fated life.

13.

He too, . . . for anger, rising at the sight
Of him he sought, in such strange thrall confin’d.
With desperate courage fir’d Ladurlad’s mind, . . .
He, too, unto the fight himself addrest,
And grappling breast to breast,
With foot firm-planted stands,
And seiz’d the monster’s throat with both his hands.
Vainly, with throttling grasp, he prest
The impenetrable scales;
And lo! the guard rose up, and round his foe,
With gliding motion, wreath’d his lengthening coils,
Then tighten’d all their folds with stress and strain.
Nought would the raging Tyger’s strength avail
If once involv’d within those mighty toils;
The arm’d Rhinoceros, so clasp’d, in vain
Had trusted to his hide of rugged mail,
His bones all broken, and the breath of life

Crush’d from the lungs, in that unequal strife.
Again, and yet again, he sought to break
The impassive limbs; but when the monster found
His utmost power was vain,
A moment he relax’d in every round,
Then knit his coils again with closer strain,
And, bearing forward, forced him to the ground.

14.

Ereenia groan’d in anguish at the sight
Of this dread fight: once more the Glendoveer
Essay’d to break his bonds, and fear
For that brave spirit who had sought him here,
Stung him to wilder strugglings. From the rock
He rais’d himself half up, . . with might and main
Pluck’d at the adamantine chain;
And now, with long and unrelaxing strain,
In obstinate effort of indignant strength,
Labour’d and strove in vain;
Till his immortal sinews fail’d at length;
And yielding, with an inward groan, to fate,
Despairingly, he let himself again
Fall prostrate on his prison-bed of stone,
Body and chain alike with lifeless weight.

15.

Struggling they lay in mortal fray
All day, while day was in our upper sphere,
For light of day,
And natural darkness never entered here;
All night, with unabated might,
They waged the unremitting fight.
A second day, a second night,
With furious will they wrestled still.
The third came on, the fourth is gone;
Another comes, another goes,
And yet no respite, no repose;
But day and night, and night and day,
Involv’d in mortal strife they lay;
Six days and nights have past away,
And still they wage, with mutual rage,
The unremitting fray.
With mutual rage their war they wage,
But not with mutual will;
For when the seventh morning came,
The monster’s worn and wearied frame
In this strange contest fails;
And weaker, weaker, every hour
He yields beneath strong Nature’s power,

For now the Curse prevails.

16.

Sometimes the Beast sprung up to bear
His foe aloft; and, trusting there
To shake him from his hold,
Relax’d the rings that wreath’d him round;
But on his throat Ladurlad hung,
And weigh’d him to the ground;
And if they sink, or if they float,
Alike with stubborn clasp he clung,
Tenacious of his grasp;
For well he knew with what a power,
Exempt from Nature’s laws,
The Curse had arm’d him for this hour;
And in the monster’s gasping jaws,
And in his hollow eye,
Well could Ladurlad now descry
The certain signs of victory.

17.

And now the guard no more can keep
His painful watch; his eyes, opprest,
Are fainting for their natural sleep;

His living flesh and blood must rest,
The Beast must sleep or die.
Then he, full faint and languidly,
Unwreathes his rings and strives to fly,
And still retreating, slowly trails
His stiff and heavy length of scales.
But that unweariable foe,
With will relentless, follows still;
No breathing time, no pause of fight
He gives, but presses on his flight;
Along the vaulted chambers, and the ascent
Up to the emerald-tinted light of day,
He harasses his way,
Till lifeless, underneath his grasp,
The huge Sea-Monster lay.

18.

That obstinate work is done! Ladurlad cried,
One labour yet remains!
And thoughtfully he eyed
Ereenia’s ponderous chains;
And with vain effort, half-despairing, tried
The rivets deep in-driven. Instinctively,
As if in search of aid, he look’d around:

Oh, then, how gladly, in the near alcove,
Fallen on the ground its lifeless Lord beside,
The crescent scymitar he spied,
Whose cloudy blade, with potent spells imbued,
Had lain so many an age unhurt in solitude.

19.

Joyfully springing there
He seiz’d the weapon, and with eager stroke
Hew’d at the chain; the force was dealt in vain,
For not as if through yielding air
Past the descending scymitar,
Its deaden’d way the heavy water broke;
Yet it bit deep. Again, with both his hands,
He wields the blade, and dealt a surer blow.
The baser metal yields
To that fine edge, and lo! the Glendoveer
Rises and snaps the half-sever’d links, and stands
Freed from his broken bands.

XVII.
BALY.

1.

This is the appointed night,
The night of joy and consecrated mirth,
When, from his judgement-seat in Padalon,
By Yamen’s throne,
Baly goes forth, that he may walk the Earth
Unseen, and hear his name
Still hymn’d and honour’d by the grateful voice
Of humankind, and in his fame rejoice.
Therefore from door to door, and street to street,
With willing feet,
Shaking their firebrands, the glad children run;

Baly! great Baly! they acclaim,
Where’er they run they bear the mighty name;
Where’er they meet,
Baly! great Baly! still their choral tongues repeat.
Therefore at every door the votive flame
Through pendant lanthorns sheds its painted light,
And rockets hissing upward through the sky,
Fall like a shower of stars
From Heaven’s black canopy.
Therefore, on yonder mountain’s templed height,
The brazen cauldron blazes through the night.
Huge as a Ship that travels the main sea
Is that capacious brass; its wick as tall
As is the mast of some great admiral.
Ten thousand votaries bring
Camphor and ghee to feed the sacred flame;
And while, through regions round, the nations see
Its fiery pillar curling high in heaven,
Baly! great Baly! they exclaim,
For ever hallowed be his blessed name!
Honour and praise to him for ever more be given!

2.

Why art not thou among the festive throng,

Baly, O Mighty One! to hear thy fame?
Still as of yore, with pageantry and song
The glowing streets along,
They celebrate thy name;
Baly! great Baly! still
The grateful habitants of Earth acclaim,
Baly! great Baly! still
The ringing walls and echoing towers proclaim.
From yonder mountain the portentous flame
Still blazes to the nations as before;
All things appear to human eyes the same,
As perfect as of yore;
To human eyes, . . but how unlike to thine!
Thine which were wont to see
The Company divine,
That with their presence came to honour thee!
For all the blessed ones of mortal birth
Who have been cloth’d with immortality,
From the eight corners of the Earth,
From the Seven Worlds assembling, all
Wont to attend thy solemn festival.
Then did thine eyes behold
The wide air peopled with that glorious train,
Now may’st thou seek the blessed ones in vain,

For Earth and Air are now beneath the Rajah’s reign.

3.

Therefore the Mighty One hath walk’d the Earth
In sorrow and in solitude to-night.
The sound of human mirth
To him is no delight;
He turns away from that ungrateful sight,
Hallowed not now by visitants divine,
And there he bends his melancholy way
Where, in yon full-orb’d Moon’s refulgent light,
The Golden Towers of his old City shine
Above the silver sea. The mighty Chief
There bent his way in grief,
As if sad thoughts indulged would work their own relief.

4.

There he beholds upon the sand
A lovely Maiden in the moonlight stand.
The land-breeze lifts her locks of jet,
The waves around her polish’d ancles play,
Her bosom with the salt sea-spray is wet;
Her arms are crost, unconsciously, to fold
That bosom from the cold,

While statue-like she seems her watch to keep,
Gazing intently on the restless deep.

5.

Seven miserable days had Kailyal there,
From earliest dawn till evening, watch’d the deep;
Six nights within the chamber of the rock,
Had laid her down, and found in prayer
That comfort which she sought in vain from sleep.
But when the seventh night came,
Never should she behold her Father more,
The wretched Maiden said in her despair;
Yet would not quit the shore,
Nor turn her eyes one moment from the sea:
Never before
Had Kailyal watch’d it so impatiently,
Never so eagerly had hop’d before,
As now when she believ’d, and said, all hope was o’er.

6.

Beholding her, how beautiful she stood,
In that wild solitude,
Baly from his invisibility
Had issued then, to know her cause of woe;

But that, in the air beside her, he espied
Two Powers of Evil for her hurt allied,
Foul Arvalan and dreadful Lorrinite.
The Mighty One they could not see,
And marking with what demon-like delight
They kept their innocent prey in sight,
He waits, expecting what the end may be.

7.

She starts; for lo! where floating many a rood,
A Monster, hugest of the Ocean brood,
Weltering and lifeless, drifts toward the shore.
Backward she starts in fear before the flood,
And, when the waves retreat,
They leave their hideous burthen at her feet.

8.

She ventures to approach with timid tread,
She starts, and half draws back in fear,
Then stops, and stretches on her head,
To see if that huge beast indeed be dead.
Now growing bold, the Maid advances near,
Even to the margin of the ocean-flood.
Rightly she reads her Father’s victory,

And lifts her joyous hands, exultingly,
To Heaven in gratitude.
Then spreading them toward the Sea,
While pious tears bedim her streaming eyes,
Come! come! my Father, come to me!
Ereenia, come! she cries.
Lo! from the opening deep they rise,
And to Ladurlad’s arms the happy Kailyal flies.

9.

She turn’d from him, to meet, with beating heart,
The Glendoveer’s embrace.
Now turn to me, for mine thou art!
Foul Arvalan exdaim’d; his loathsome face
Came forth, and from the air,
In fleshly form, he burst.
Always in horror and despair,
Had Kailyal seen that form and face accurst,
But yet so sharp a pang had ne’er
Shot with a thrill like death through all her frame,
As now when on her hour of joy the Spectre came.

10.

Vain is resistance now,

The fiendish laugh of Lorrinite is heard;
And, at her dreadful word,
The Asuras once again appear,
And seize Ladurlad and the Glendoveer.

11.

Hold your accursed hands!
A Voice exclaim’d, whose dread commands
Were fear’d through all the vaults of Padalon;
And there among them, in the midnight air,
The presence of the mighty Baly shone.
He, making manifest his mightiness,
Put forth on every side an hundred arms,
And seiz’d the Sorceress; maugre all her charms,
Her and her fiendish ministers he caught
With force as uncontroulable as fate;
And that unhappy Soul, to whom
The Almighty Rajah’s power availeth not
Living to avert, nor dead to mitigate
His righteous doom.

12.

Help, help, Kehama! Father, help! he cried;
But Baly tarried not to abide

That mightier Power; with irresistible feet
He stampt and cleft the Earth; it opened wide,
And gave him way to his own judgement-seat.
Down, like a plummet, to the World below
He sunk, and bore his prey
To righteous punishment, and endless woe.

XVIII.
KEHAMA’S DESCENT.

1.

The Earth, by Baly’s feet divided,
Clos’d o’er his way as to the judgement-seat
He plunged and bore his prey.
Scarce had the shock subsided,
When, darting from the Swerga’s heavenly heights,
Kehama, like a thunderbolt, alights.
In wrath he came, a bickering flame
Flash’d from his eyes which made the moonlight dim,
And passion forcing way from every limb,
Like furnace-smoke, with terrors wrapt him round.
Furious he smote the ground;

Earth trembled underneath the dreadful stroke,
Again in sunder riven;
He hurl’d in rage his whirling weapon down.
But lo! the fiery sheckra to his feet
Return’d, as if by equal force re-driven,
And from the abyss the voice of Baly came:
Not yet, O Rajah, hast thou won
The realms of Padalon!
Earth and the Swerga are thine own,
But, till Kehama shall subdue the throne
Of Hell, in torments Yamen holds his son.

2.

Fool that he is! . . in torments let him lie!
Kehama, wrathful at his son, replied.
But what am I
That thou should’st brave me? . . kindling in his pride
The dreadful Rajah cried.
Ho! Yamen! hear me. God of Padalon,
Prepare thy throne,
And let the Amreeta cup
Be ready for my lips, when I anon
Triumphantly shall take my seat thereon,
And plant upon thy neck my royal feet.

3.

In voice like thunder thus the Rajah cried,
Impending o’er the abyss, with menacing hand
Put forth, as in the action of command,
And eyes that darted their red anger down.
Then drawing back he let the earth subside,
And, as his wrath relax’d, survey’d,
Thoughtful and silently, the mortal Maid.
Her eye the while was on the farthest sky,
Where up the etherial height
Ereenia rose and past away from sight.
Never had she so joyfully
Beheld the coming of the Glendoveer,
Dear as he was and he deserv’d to be,
As now she saw him rise and disappear.
Come now what will, within her heart said she,
For thou art safe, and what have I to fear?

4.

Meantime the Almighty Rajah, late
In power and majesty and wrath array’d,
Had laid his terrors by
And gaz’d upon the Maid.
Pride could not quit his eye,

Nor that remorseless nature from his front
Depart; yet whoso had beheld him then
Had felt some admiration mix’d with dread,
And might have said
That sure he seem’d to be the King of Men;
Less than the greatest that he could not be,
Who carried in his port such might and majesty.

5.

In fear no longer for the Glendoveer,
Now toward the Rajah Kailyal turn’d her eyes
As if to ask what doom awaited her.
But then surprise,
Even as with fascination, held them there,
So strange a thing it seem’d to see the change
Of purport in that all-commanding brow,
That thoughtfully was bent upon her now.
Wondering she gaz’d, the while her Father’s eye
Was fix’d upon Kehama haughtily;
It spake defiance to him, high disdain,
Stern patience, unsubduable by pain,
And pride triumphant over agony.

6.

Ladurlad, said the Rajah, thou and I

Alike have done the work of Destiny,
Unknowing each to what the impulse tended;
But now that over Earth and Heaven my reign
Is stablish’d, and the ways of Fate are plain
Before me, here our enmity is ended.
I take away thy Curse. . . As thus he said,
The fire which in Ladurlad’s heart and brain
Was burning, fled, and left him free from pain.
So rapidly his torments were departed,
That at the sudden ease he started,
As with a shock, and to his head
His hands up-fled,
As if he felt through every failing limb
The power and sense of life forsaking him.

7.

Then turning to the Maid, the Rajah cried,
O Virgin, above all of mortal birth
Favour’d alike in beauty and in worth,
And in the glories of thy destiny,
Now let thy happy heart exult with pride,
For Fate hath chosen thee
To be Kehama’s bride,
To be the Queen of Heaven and Earth,
And of whatever Worlds beside

Infinity may hide . . . For I can see
The writing which, at thy nativity,
All-knowing Nature wrought upon thy brain,
In branching veins, which to the gifted eye
Map out the mazes of futurity.
There is it written, Maid, that thou and I,
Alone of human kind a deathless pair,
Are doom’d to share
The Amreeta-drink divine
Of immortality. Come, Maiden mine!
High-fated One, ascend the subject sky,
And by Kehama’s side
Sit on the Swerga throne, his equal bride.

8.

Oh never, . . never . . Father! Kailyal cried;
It is not as he saith, . . it cannot be!
I! . . I, his bride!
Nature is never false; he wrongeth her!
My heart belies such lines of destiny.
There is no other true interpreter!

9.

At that reply Kehama’s darkening brow

Bewray’d the anger which he yet supprest.
Counsel thy daughter; tell her thou art now
Free from thy Curse, he said, and bid her bow
In thankfulness to Fate’s benign behest.
Bid her her stubborn will restrain,
For Destiny at last must be obey’d,
And tell her, while obedience is delay’d,
Thy Curse will burn again.

10.

She needeth not my counsel, he replied,
And idly, Rajah, dost thou reason thus
Of Destiny! for though all other things
Were subject to the starry influencings,
And bow’d submissive to thy tyranny,
The virtuous heart, and resolute will are free.
Thus in their wisdom did the Gods decree
When they created man. Let come what will,
This is our rock of strength; in every ill,
Sorrow, oppression, pain and agony,
The spirit of the good is unsubdued,
And, suffer as they may, they triumph still.

11.

Obstinate fools! exclaim’d the Mighty One,

Fate and my pleasure must be done,
And ye resist in vain!
Take your fit guerdon till we meet again!
So saying, his vindictive hand he flung
Towards them, fill’d with curses; then on high
Aloft he sprung, and vanish’d through the Sky.

XIX.
MOUNT CALASAY.

1.

The Rajah, scattering curses as he rose,
Soar’d to the Swerga, and resum’d his throne.
Not for his own redoubled agony,
Which now through heart and brain,
With renovated pain,
Rush’d to its seat, Ladurlad breathes that groan,
That groan is for his child; he groan’d to see
The lovely one defil’d with leprosy,
Which, as the enemy vindictive fled,
O’er all her frame with quick contagion spread.
She, wondering at events so passing strange,

And fill’d with hope and fear,
And joy to see the Tyrant disappear,
And glad expectance of her Glendoveer,
Perceiv’d not in herself the hideous change.
His burning pain, she thought, had forced the groan
Her father breath’d; his agonies alone
Were present to her mind; she claspt his knees,
Wept for his Curse, and did not feel her own.

2.

Nor when she saw her plague, did her good heart,
True to itself, even for a moment fail.
Ha, Rajah! with disdainful smile she cries,
Mighty and wise and wicked as thou art,
Still thy blind vengeance acts a friendly part.
Shall I not thank thee for this scurf and scale
Of dire deformity, whose loathsomeness,
Surer than panoply of strongest mail,
Arms me against all foes? Oh, better so,
Better such foul disgrace,
Than that this innocent face
Should tempt thy wooing! That I need not dread;
Nor ever impious foe
Will offer outrage now, nor farther woe

Will beauty draw on my unhappy head;
Safe through the unholy world may Kailyal go.

3.

Her face in virtuous pride
Was lifted to the skies,
As him and his poor vengeance she defied;
But earthward, when she ceas’d, she turn’d her eyes,
As if she sought to hide
The tear which in her own despite would rise.
Did then the thought of her own Glendoveer
Call forth that natural tear?
Was it a woman’s fear,
A thought of earthly love, which troubled her?
Like yon thin cloud amid the moonlight sky
That flits before the wind
And leaves no trace behind,
The womanly pang past over Kailyal’s mind.
This is a loathsome sight to human eye,
Half-shrinking at herself, the Maiden thought,
Will it be so to him? Oh surely not!
The immortal Powers, who see
Through the poor wrappings of mortality,
Behold the soul, the beautiful soul, within,

Exempt from age and wasting malady,
And undeform’d, while pure and free from sin.
This is a loathsome sight to human eye,
But not to eyes divine,
Ereenia, Son of Heaven, oh not to thine!

4.

The wrongful thought of fear, the womanly pain
Had past away, her heart was calm again.
She rais’d her head, expecting now to see
The Glendoveer appear;
Where hath he fled, quoth she,
That he should tarry now? Oh had she known
Whither the adventurous Son of Heaven was flown,
Strong as her spirit was, it had not borne
The awful thought, nor dar’d to hope for his return.

5.

For he in search of Seeva’s throne was gone,
To tell his tale of wrong;
In search of Seeva’s own abode
The daring one began his heavenly road.
O wild emprize! above the farthest skies
He hop’d to rise!

Him who is thron’d beyond the reach of thought,
The Alone, the Inaccessible, he sought.
O wild emprize! for when in days of yore,
For proud pre-eminence of power,
Brama and Veeshnoo, wild with rage, contended,
And Seeva, in his might,
Their dread contention ended;
Before their sight
In form a fiery column did he tower,
Whose head above the highest height extended,
Whose base below the deepest depth descended.
Downward, its depth to sound,
Veeshnoo a thousand years explor’d
The fathomless profound,
And yet no base he found:
Upward, to reach its head,
Ten myriad years the aspiring Brama soar’d,
And still, as up he fled,
Above him still the Immeasurable spread.
The rivals own’d their lord,
And trembled and ador’d.
How shall the Glendoveer attain
What Brama and what Veeshnoo sought in vain?

6.

Ne’er did such thought of lofty daring enter
Celestial Spirit’s mind. O wild adventure
That throne to find, for he must leave behind
This World, that in the centre,
Within its salt-sea girdle, lies confin’d;
Yea the Seven Earths that, each with its own ocean,
Ring clasping ring, compose the mighty round.
What power of motion,
In less than endless years shall bear him there,
Along the limitless extent,
To the utmost bound of the remotest spheres?
What strength of wing
Suffice to pierce the Golden Firmament
That closes all within?
Yet he hath past the measureless extent,
And pierced the Golden Firmament;
For Faith hath given him power, and Space and Time
Vanish before that energy sublime.
Nor doth Eternal Night,
And outer Darkness, check his resolute flight;
By strong desire through all he makes his way,
Till Seeva’s Seat appears, . . behold Mount Calasay!

7.

Behold the Silver Mountain! round about
Seven ladders stand, so high, the aching eye,
Seeking their tops in vain amid the sky,
Might deem they led from earth to highest heaven.
Ages would pass away,
And Worlds with age decay,
Ere one whose patient feet from ring to ring
Must win their upward way,
Could reach the summit of Mount Calasay.
But that strong power that nerv’d his wing,
That all-surmounting will,
Intensity of faith and holiest love,
Sustain’d Ereenia still,
And he hath gain’d the plain, the sanctuary above.

8.

Lo, there the Silver Bell,
That, self-sustain’d, hangs buoyant in the air!
Lo! the broad Table there, too bright
For mortal sight,
From whose four sides the bordering gems unite
Their harmonizing rays,
In one mid fount of many-colour’d light.

The stream of splendour, flashing as it flows,
Plays round, and feeds the stem of yon celestial Rose.
Where is the Sage whose wisdom can declare
The hidden things of that mysterious flower,
That flower which serves all mysteries to bear?
The sacred triangle is there,
Holding the Emblem which no tongue may tell.
Is this the Heaven of Heavens, where Seeva’s self doth dwell?

9.

Here first the Glendoveer
Felt his wing flag, and paus’d upon his flight.
Was it that fear came over him, when here
He saw the imagin’d throne appear?
Not so, for his immortal sight
Endur’d the Table’s light;
Distinctly he beheld all things around,
And doubt and wonder rose within his mind
That this was all he found.
Howbeit he lifted up his voice and spake.
There is oppression in the World below;
Earth groans beneath the yoke; yea, in her woe,
She asks if the Avenger’s eye is blind?
Awake, O Lord, awake!

Too long thy vengeance sleepeth. Holy One!
Put thou thy terrors on for mercy’s sake,
And strike the blow, in justice to mankind!

10.

So as he pray’d, intenser faith he felt,
His spirit seem’d to melt
With ardent yearnings of increasing love;
Upward he turn’d his eyes
As if there should be something yet above;
Let me not, Seeva! seek in vain! he cries,
Thou art not here, . . for how should these contain thee?
Thou art not here, . . for how should I sustain thee?
But thou, where’er thou art,
Canst hear the voice of prayer,
Canst hear the humble heart.
Thy dwelling who can tell,
Or who, O Lord, hath seen thy secret throne?
But thou art not alone,
Not unapproachable!
O all-containing Mind,
Thou who art every where,
Whom all who seek shall find,
Hear me, O Seeva! hear the suppliant’s prayer!

11.

So saying, up he sprung,
And struck the Bell, which self-suspended, hung
Before the mystic Rose.
From side to side the silver tongue
Melodious swung, and far and wide
Soul-thrilling tones of heavenly music rung.
Abash’d, confounded,
It left the Glendoveer; . . yea all astounded
In overpowering fear and deep dismay;
For when that Bell had sounded,
The Rose, with all the mysteries it surrounded,
The Bell, the Table, and Mount Calasay,
The holy Hill itself, with all thereon,
Even as a morning dream before the day
Dissolves away, they faded and were gone.

12.

Where shall he rest his wing, where turn for flight,
For all around is Light,
Primal, essential, all-pervading Light!
Heart cannot think, nor tongue declare,
Nor eyes of Angel bear
That Glory unimaginably bright;

The Sun himself had seem’d
A speck of darkness there,
Amid that Light of Light!

13.

Down fell the Glendoveer,
Down through all regions, to our mundane sphere
He fell; but in his ear
A voice, which from within him came, was heard,
The indubitable word
Of Him to whom all secret things are known:
Go, ye who suffer, go to Yamen’s throne.
He hath the remedy for every woe;
He setteth right whate’er is wrong below.

XX.
THE EMBARKATION.

1.

Down from the Heaven of Heavens Ereenia fell
Precipitate, yet imperceptible
His fall, nor had he cause nor thought of fear;
And when he came within this mundane sphere,
And felt that Earth was near,
The Glendoveer his azure wings expanded,
And, sloping down the sky
Toward the spot from whence he sprung on high,
There on the shore he landed.

2.

Kailyal advanced to meet him,

Not moving now as she was wont to greet him;
Joy in her eye and in her eager pace;
With a calm smile of melancholy pride
She met him now, and, turning half aside,
Her warning hand repell’d the dear embrace.
Strange things, Ereenia, have befallen us here,
The Virgin said; the Almighty Man hath read
The lines which, traced by Nature on my brain,
There to the gifted eye
Make all my fortunes plain,
Mapping the mazes of futurity.
He sued for peace, for it is written there
That I with him the Amreeta cup must share;
Wherefore he bade me come, and by his side
Sit on the Swerga-throne, his equal bride.
I need not tell thee what reply was given;
My heart, the sure interpreter of Heaven,
His impious words belied.
Thou seest his poor revenge! So having said,
One look she glanced upon her leprous stain
Indignantly, and shook
Her head in calm disdain.

3.

O Maid of soul divine!

O more than ever dear,
And more than ever mine,
Replied the Glendoveer;
He hath not read, be sure, the mystic ways
Of Fate; almighty as he is, that maze
Hath mock’d his fallible sight.
Said he the Amreeta-cup? So far aright
The Evil One may see; for Fate displays
Her hidden things in part, and part conceals,
Baffling the wicked eye
Alike with what she hides, and what reveals,
When with unholy purpose it would pry
Into the secrets of futurity.
So may it be permitted him to see
Dimly the inscrutable decree;
For to the world below,
Where Yamen guards the Amreeta, we must go;
Thus Seeva hath exprest his will, even he
The Holiest hath ordain’d it; there, he saith,
All wrongs shall be redrest
By Yamen, by the righteous Power of Death.

4.

Forthwith the Father and the fated Maid,

And that heroic Spirit, who for them
Such flight had late essay’d,
The will of Heaven obey’d.
They went their way along the road
That leads to Yamen’s dread abode.

5.

Many a day hath past away
Since they began their arduous way,
Their way of toil and pain;
And now their weary feet attain
The Earth’s remotest bound
Where outer Ocean girds it round.
But not like other Oceans this,
Rather it seem’d a drear abyss,
Upon whose brink they stood.
Oh, scene of fear! the travellers hear
The raging of the flood;
They hear how fearfully it roars,
But clouds of darker shade than night
For ever hovering round those shores,
Hide all things from their sight.
The Sun upon that darkness pours
His unavailing light;

Nor ever Moon nor Stars display,
Through the thick shade, one guiding ray
To shew the perils of the way.

6.

There, in a creek, a vessel lay.
Just on the confines of the day,
It rode at anchor in its bay,
These venturous pilgrims to convey
Across that outer Sea.
Strange vessel sure it seem’d to be,
And all unfit for such wild sea!
For through its yawning side the wave
Was oozing in; the mast was frail,
And old and torn its only sail.
How shall that crazy vessel brave
The billows, that in wild commotion
For ever roar and rave?
How hope to cross the dreadful Ocean,
O’er which eternal shadows dwell,
Whose secrets none return to tell!

7.

Well might the travellers fear to enter!

But summon’d once on that adventure,
For them was no retreat.
Nor boots it with reluctant feet
To linger on the strand;
Aboard! aboard!
An awful voice, that left no choice,
Sent forth its stern command,
Aboard! aboard!
The travellers hear that voice in fear,
And breathe to Heaven an inward prayer,
And take their seats in silence there.

8.

Self-hoisted then, behold the sail
Expands itself before the gale;
Hands, which they cannot see, let slip
The cable of that fated ship;
The land breeze sends her on her way,
And lo! they leave the living light of day!

XXI.
THE WORLD’S END.

1.

Swift as an arrow in its flight
The Ship shot through the incumbent night;
And they have left behind
The raging billows and the roaring wind,
The storm, the darkness, and all mortal fears;
And lo! another light
To guide their way appears,
The light of other spheres.

2.

That instant, from Ladurlad’s heart and brain

The Curse was gone; he feels again
Fresh as in Youth’s fair morning, and the Maid
Hath lost her leprous stain.
The dreadful Man hath no dominion here,
Starting she cried; O happy, happy hour!
We are beyond his power!
Then raising to the Glendoveer,
With heavenly beauty bright, her angel face,
Turn’d not reluctant now, and met his dear embrace.

3.

Swift glides the Ship, with gentle motion,
Across that calm and quiet ocean;
That glassy sea, which seem’d to be
The mirror of tranquillity.
Their pleasant passage soon was o’er,
The Ship hath reach’d its destin’d shore;
A level belt of ice which bound,
As with an adamantine mound,
The waters of the sleeping Ocean round.
Strange forms were on the strand
Of earth-born spirits slain before their time;
Who, wandering over sea and sky and land,
Had so fulfill’d their term; and now were met

Upon this icy belt, a motley band,
Waiting their summons, at the appointed hour
When each before the judgement-seat must stand,
And hear his doom from Baly’s righteous power.

4.

Foul with habitual crimes, a hideous crew
Were there, the race of rapine and of blood.
Now, having overpast the mortal flood,
Their own deformity they knew,
And knew the meed that to their deeds was due.
Therefore in fear and agony they stood,
Expecting when the evil Messenger
Among them should appear. But with their fear
A hope was mingled now;
O’er the dark shade of guilt a deeper hue
It threw, and gave a fiercer character
To the wild eye and lip and sinful brow.
They hop’d that soon Kehama would subdue
The inexorable God, and seize his throne,
Reduce the infernal World to his command,
And, with his irresistible right hand,
Redeem them from the vaults of Padalon.

5.

Apart from these a milder company,
The victims of offences not their own,
Look’d when the appointed Messenger should come;
Gathered together some, and some alone
Brooding in silence on their future doom.
Widows whom, to their husbands’ funeral fire,
Force or strong error led, to share the pyre,
As to their everlasting marriage-bed:
And babes, by sin unstain’d,
Whom erring parents vow’d
To Ganges, and the holy stream profan’d
With that strange sacrifice, rite unordain’d
By Law, by sacred Nature unallow’d:
Others more hapless in their destiny,
Scarce having first inhaled this vital breath,
Whose cradles from some tree
Unnatural hands suspended,
Then left, till gentle Death,
Coming like Sleep, their feeble moanings ended;
Or for his prey the ravenous Kite descended;
Or, marching like an army from their caves,
The Pismires blacken’d o’er, then bleach’d and bare