Toru Dutt

“ Thus passed the monarch-hermit's time; in joy,
With smiles upon his lips, whenever near
His little favourite; in bitter grief
And fear, and trouble, when it wandered far.
And be who had abandoned ease and wealth,
And friends and dearest ties, and kingly power,
Found his devotions broken by the love
He had bestowed upon a little hind
Thrown in his way by chance. Years glided on. . . . .
And Death, who spareth none, approached at last
The hermit-king to summon him away;
The hind was at his side, with tearful eyes
Watching his last sad moments, like a child
Beside a father. ”

“ What wrong have we done, that thou claspest us never?
See! the lamp flickers, the hearth sparkles as dying,
If thou speakest no more, and art deaf to our crying—
The fire that we feed now, and the lamp that we cherish,
And we two thy loved ones—all, all shall perish.
'Thou shalt find us both dead, by the lamp without light,
And what wilt thou do when thou meetest that sight?
Thy children in turn shall be deaf to thy calling,
To bring us to life, thou then shalt be falling
On thy knees to thy Saints,—but long will it be,
Yea, long must thou clasp us, ere they give us to thee. ”

“ Because a thousand years after,—for it requires not less than a thousand years of gestation to Humanity to produce similar men, because a thousand years after, another genius came, who picked up this sword and this sceptre, who stood straight up over the continent, who made history so gigantic and grand that it dazzles still, who enchained Revolution in France and unchained it in Europe, who has given to his name the brilliant synonyms of Rivoh, Jena, Essling, Friedland, Montmirail! ”

“ I cried,
"Bind too my father's forehead with these leaves."
One leaf the Angel took and therewith touched
His forehead, and then gently whispered "Nay!"
Never, oh never had I seen a face
More beautiful than that Angel's, or more full
Of holy pity and of love divine.
Wondering I looked awhile,—then, all at once
Opened my tear-dimmed eyes—When lo! the light
Was gone—the light as of the stars when snow
Lies deep upon the ground. No more, no more,
Was seen the Angel's face. ”

“ Comforting himself with such philosophy, Well-to-do left Lusty-life there, and went on his way. The Bull watched him depart, and stood mournfully on three legs, alone in the forest. 'Well, well,' he thought, 'it is all destiny whether I live or die:—
'Shoot a hundred shafts, the quarry lives and flies—not due to death;
When his hour is come, a grass-blade hath a point to stop his breath.'
As the days passed by, and Lusty-life picked about in the tender forest grass, he grew wonderfully well, and fat of carcase, and happy, and bellowed about the wood as though it were his own. ”

“ Shoots forth a long, long streak of red intense;
Then, when no reeds, no waterlilies stir,
And birds commence their songs upon the fir
Far, far away, and glow-worms light their spark
Beneath the moon just rising in the dark;
Then, when the lake more deep, more sombre, shows
A sky beneath, dark-violet, where glows
The milky way, the splendour of each star,
And all that meets the gaze above, afar;
Like a bright silver vase 'mid diamonds strown,
With her head buried in her wings, alone,
She sleeps, between two firmaments dim-seen,
A queen of beauty, Nature's chosen queen. ”

“ The muttered curse, the threatening word,
In such a rite must ne'er be heard.
Thy grace the rite from check can free,
And yield the fruit I long to see.
Thy duty bids thee, King, defend
The suffering guest, the suppliant friend.
Give me thy son, thine eldest born,
Whom locks like raven's wings adorn.
That hero youth, the truly brave,
Of thee, O glorious King, I crave.
For he can lay those demons low
Who mar my rites and work me woe:
My power shall shield the youth from harm,
And heavenly might shall nerve his arm. ”

“ Will hover around you, though it darken your way;
Love verses that spring from kind hearts like your own,
They are echoes from heaven, stray beams from the throne;
While I slumber in earth, whisper gently of me—
'His tune was old Virgil's, though far lower his key.
If the world never thought so, the reason is clear—
Impatient, it never deigned even to hear;
But the less it talks of him, the more we should raise
Around his dear name an incense of praise.
As his loved ones, we two should treasure his story,
As his loved ones, we two should give him his glory ”

“ Mátali, we are descending towards the earth's atmosphere.
MÁTALI.—What makes you think so?
KING.—The car itself instructs me; we are moving
O'er pregnant clouds, surcharged with rain; below us
I see the moisture-loving Chátakas
In sportive flight dart through the spokes; the steeds
Of Indra glisten with the lightning's flash;
And a thick mist bedews the circling wheels.
MÁTALI.—You are right; in a little while the chariot will touch the ground, and you will be in your own dominions.
KING [looking down] ,—How wonderful is the appearance of the earth as we rapidly descend! ”

“ Bivouac, and tomb, and prison, Paris now is all.
Upright and straight before the universe
That has become a solitude, she stands
A sentinel, and surprised with weariness
From over-watching, slumbers; all is still.
Men, women, children, sobs passionate, bursts
Of triumphant laughter, cars, footsteps, quays,
Squares, crossways, and the river's sandy banks,
The thousand roofs whence issue murmurs low,
The murmurs of our dreams, the hope that says
I trust and I believe, the hunger, that I die,
The dark despair that knows not what it says,
All, all keep silence. O thou mighty crowd! ”

“ The Raja of Vidarbha is my sire,
Bhima his name, and—Best of Twice-born!—know
My husband is Nishadha's Chief, the famed,
The wise and valiant and victorious Prince,
The high and lordly Nala; of the gods
A steadfast worshipper; of Bráhmanas
The friend; his people's shield; honored and strong,
Truth-speaking, skilled in arms, sagacious, just;
Terrible to his foes, fortunate, lord
Of many conquered towns; a godlike man,
Princeliest of princes—Nala—one that hath
A countenance like the full moon's for light,
And eyes of lotus. ”

“ Gems whose rich lustre would make artists ecstatic,
And ravish king's hearts, and convert with their glory
A hundred strange ruins, dark, crumbled and hoary,
To Aladdin's palaces of the famed Arab story.
Then looked at minutely each gem in its station.
What hues! Oh, what hues! blue, orange, carnation,
Amethyst, onyx, agate, and the ruby that blushes,
And pearl and carbuncle that send light out in gushes,
All by the waves patient polished for ages and ages,
While carried hither and thither by the wind as it rages.
Ah! What flashes of lightning! What shades soft and tender! ”

“ Upon the palace-roof the peacocks heard
And screamed; the elephants within their stalls
Heard it and trumpeted; the coursers, tied,
Snorted for joy to hear that leaping car;
Peacocks and elephants and cattle stalled
All called and clamored with uplifted heads,
As wild things do at noise of coming rain.
Then to herself the Princess spake: "This car,
The rolling of it, echoing all around,
Gladdens my heart. It must be Nala comes,
My King of men! If I see not, this day,
My Prince that hath the bright and moon-like face,
My hero of unnumbered gifts, my lord,
Ah, I shall die! ”

“ The linnet should be my sole master in singing,
The fields verdant my book.
I would there make my choice as in a rich casket,
Each white bud a pearl,
And then deck my lyre with the gems in my basket,
If I were a young girl.
To the weeds in the furrows, drone their songs the cicalas,
To the clouds skylarks call,
To the hearths sing the crickets, ghost-bards to Valhallas,
There are poets for all. ”

“ Still, I can but die—and I will die fighting! When death is certain, and no hope left but in battle, that is the time for war,'
'It is so,' said the Jackal.
'Having weighed all this, Lusty-life inquired of the Jackal by what signs he might conclude the King's hostile intentions.
'If he glowers upon thee,' answered Damanaka, 'and awaits thee with ears pricked, tail stiffened, paw upraised, and muzzle agape, then thou mayest get thee to thy weapons like a Bull of spirit, for
'All men scorn the soulless coward who his manhood doth forget:—
On a lifeless heap of ashes fearlessly the foot is set,' ”

“ I long for human blood.
The pure blood of a woman must be shed.
Then shall your prayers be heard, and Rome be great.'
Thus spake the god,—and in that very time
Vanished the victim, in some way unknown,
And on the altar I,—I found myself
Stretched in its place, awaiting for the axe
Suspended. There I lay with blanching cheek,
Paler and paler as the minutes passed,
Until a pillar opening, out there came
A deadly serpent. Crawling, it advanced,
Drawing along the flags its glittering rings,
Proud of their rich resplendence, moving slow,
And slower still, as certain of its prey. ”