



Produced by David Thomas





  The
  Curse of Kehama:
  by
  Robert Southey.

  Καταραι, ως και τα αλεκτρυονονεοττα, οικον αει, οψε κεν επανηξαν
    εγκαθισομεναι.
                      Αποφθ. Ανεκ. του Γυλιελ. του Μητ.

  CURSES ARE LIKE YOUNG CHICKEN, THEY ALWAYS COME HOME TO ROOST.

  THE THIRD EDITION.
  _VOLUME THE SECOND._

  LONDON:
  PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND
  BROWN, PATERNOSTER-ROW.
  1812.



TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES.

This book was originally digitized by Google and is intended for
personal, non-commercial use only.

Original page numbers are given in curly brackets. Footnotes have been
relocated to the end of the book. Passages originally rendered in
small-caps have been changed to all-caps in the text version of this
work.

Alteration: [p. 147] change "gross" to "grass".



  CONTENTS
  TO
  VOLUME SECOND.

  13. The Retreat
  14. Jaga-Naut
  15. The City of Baly
  16. The Ancient Sepulchres
  17. Baly
  18. Kehama's Descent
  19. Mount Calasay
  20. The Embarkation
  21. The World's End
  22. The Gate of Padalon
  23. Padalon
  24. The Amreeta

  Notes
  Footnotes



THE CURSE OF KEHAMA.

 XIII.
 THE RETREAT.

 {1}

 1.
 Around her Father's neck the Maiden lock'd
 Her arms, when that portentous blow was given;
 Clinging to him she heard the dread uproar,
 And felt the shuddering shock which ran through Heaven.
 Earth underneath them rock'd,
 Her strong foundations heaving in commotion,
 Such as wild winds upraise in raving Ocean,
 As though the solid base were rent asunder.
 {2}
 And lo! where, storming the astonish'd sky,
 Kehama and his evil host ascend!
 Before them rolls the thunder,
 Ten thousand thousand lightnings round them fly,
 Upward the lengthening pageantries aspire,
 Leaving from Earth to Heaven a widening wake of fire.

 2.
 When the wild uproar was at length allay'd,
 And Earth, recovering from the shock, was still,
 Thus to her father spake the imploring Maid.
 Oh! by the love which we so long have borne
 Each other, and we ne'er shall cease to bear,..
 Oh! by the sufferings we have shar'd,
 And must not cease to share,..
 One boon I supplicate in this dread hour,
 One consolation in this hour of woe!
 Thou hast it in thy power, refuse not thou
 The only comfort now
 That my poor heart can know.

 3.
 O dearest, dearest Kailyal! with a smile
 Of tenderness and sorrow, he replied,
 {3}
 O best belov'd, and to be lov'd the best
 Best worthy,.. set thy duteous heart at rest.
 I know thy wish, and let what will betide,
 Ne'er will I leave thee wilfully again.
 My soul is strengthen'd to endure its pain;
 Be thou, in all my wanderings, still my guide;
 Be thou, in all my sufferings, at my side.

 4.
 The Maiden, at those welcome words, imprest
 A passionate kiss upon her father's cheek:
 They look'd around them, then, as if to seek
 Where they should turn, North, South, or East or West,
 Wherever to their vagrant feet seem'd best.
 But, turning from the view her mournful eyes,
 Oh, whither should we wander, Kailyal cries,
 Or wherefore seek in vain a place of rest?
 Have we not here the Earth beneath our tread,
 Heaven overhead,
 A brook that winds through this sequester'd glade,
 And yonder woods, to yield us fruit and shade!
 The little all our wants require is nigh;
 Hope we have none,.. why travel on in fear?
 We cannot fly from Fate, and Fate will find us here.

 {4}

 5.
 'Twas a fair scene wherein they stood,
 A green and sunny glade amid the wood,
 And in the midst an aged Banian grew.
 It was a goodly sight to see
 That venerable tree,
 For o'er the lawn, irregularly spread,
 Fifty straight columns propt its lofty head;
 And many a long depending shoot,
 Seeking to strike its root,
 Straight like a plummet, grew towards the ground.
 Some on the lower boughs, which crost their way,
 Fixing their bearded fibres, round and round,
 With many a ring and wild contortion wound;
 Some to the passing wind at times, with sway
 Of gentle motion swung,
 Others of younger growth, unmov'd, were hung
 Like stone-drops from the cavern's fretted height.
 Beneath was smooth and fair to sight,
 Nor weeds nor briars deform'd the natural floor,
 And through the leafy cope which bower'd it o'er
 Came gleams of checquered light.
 So like a temple did it seem, that there
 A pious heart's first impulse would be prayer.

 {5}

 6.
 A brook, with easy current, murmured near;
 Water so cool and clear
 The peasants drink not from the humble well,
 Which they with sacrifice of rural pride,
 Have wedded to the cocoa-grove beside;
 Nor tanks of costliest masonry dispense
 To those in towns who dwell,
 The work of Kings, in their beneficence.
 Fed by perpetual springs, a small lagoon,
 Pellucid, deep, and still, in silence join'd
 And swell'd the passing stream. Like burnish'd steel
 Glowing, it lay beneath the eye of noon;
 And when the breezes, in their play,
 Ruffled the darkening surface, then, with gleam
 Of sudden light, around the lotus stem
 It rippled, and the sacred flowers that crown
 The lakelet with their roseate beauty, ride,
 In gentlest waving rock'd, from side to side;
 And as the wind upheaves
 Their broad and buoyant weight, the glossy leaves
 Flap on the twinkling waters, up and down.

 7.
 They built them here a bower; of jointed cane,
 {6}
 Strong for the needful use, and light and long
 Was the slight frame-work rear'd, with little pain;
 Lithe creepers, then, the wicker-sides supply,
 And the tall jungle-grass fit roofing gave
 Beneath that genial sky.
 And here did Kailyal, each returning day,
 Pour forth libations from the brook, to pay
 The Spirits of her Sires their grateful rite;
 In such libations pour'd in open glades,
 Beside clear streams and solitary shades,
 The Spirits of the virtuous dead delight.
 And duly here, to Marriataly's praise,
 The Maid, as with an Angel's voice of song,
 Pour'd her melodious lays
 Upon the gales of even,
 And gliding in religious dance along,
 Mov'd, graceful as the dark-eyed Nymphs of Heaven,
 Such harmony to all her steps was given,

 8.
 Thus ever, in her Father's doting eye,
 Kailyal perform'd the customary rite;
 He, patient of his burning pain the while,
 Beheld her, and approv'd her pious toil;
 And sometimes, at the sight,
 {7}
 A melancholy smile
 Would gleam upon his awful countenance,
 He, too, by day and night, and every hour,
 Paid to a higher Power his sacrifice;
 An offering, not of ghee, or fruit, or rice,
 Flower-crown, or blood; but of a heart subdued,
 A resolute, unconquer'd fortitude,
 An agony represt, a will resign'd,
 To her, who, on her secret throne reclin'd,
 Amid the milky Sea, by Veeshnoo's side,
 Looks with an eye of mercy on mankind.
 By the Preserver, with his power endued,
 There Voomdavee beholds this lower clime,
 And marks the silent sufferings of the good,
 To recompense them in her own good time.

 9.
 O force of faith! O strength of virtuous will!
 Behold him, in his endless martyrdom,
 Triumphant still!
 The Curse still burning in his heart and brain,
 And yet doth he remain
 Patient the while, and tranquil, and content!
 The pious soul hath fram'd unto itself
 {8}
 A second nature, to exist in pain
 As in its own allotted element.

 10.
 Such strength the will reveal'd had given
 This holy pair, such influxes of grace,
 That to their solitary resting place
 They brought the peace of Heaven.
 Yea all around was hallowed! Danger, Fear,
 Nor thought of evil ever entered here.
 A charm was on the Leopard when he came
 Within the circle of that mystic glade;
 Submiss he crouch'd before the heavenly maid,
 And offered to her touch his speckled side;
 Or with arch'd back erect, and bending head,
 And eyes half-clos'd for pleasure, would he stand,
 Courting the pressure of her gentle hand.

 11.
 Trampling his path through wood and brake,
 And canes which crackling fall before his way,
 And tassel-grass, whose silvery feathers play
 O'ertopping the young trees,
 On comes the Elephant, to slake
 {9}
 His thirst at noon in yon pellucid springs.
 Lo! from his trunk upturn'd, aloft he flings
 The grateful shower; and now
 Plucking the broad-leav'd bough
 Of yonder plane, with waving motion slow,
 Fanning the languid air,
 He moves it to and fro.
 But when that form of beauty meets his sight,
 The trunk its undulating motion stops,
 From his forgetful hold the plane-branch drops,
 Reverent he kneels, and lifts his rational eyes
 To her as if in prayer;
 And when she pours her angel voice in song,
 Entranced he listens to the thrilling notes,
 Till his strong temples, bath'd with sudden dews,
 Their fragrance of delight and love diffuse.

 12.
 Lo! as the voice melodious floats around,
 The Antelope draws near,
 The Tygress leaves her toothless cubs to hear,
 The Snake comes gliding from the secret brake,
 Himself in fascination forced along
 By that enchanting song;
 {10}
 The antic Monkies, whose wild gambols late,
 When not a breeze wav'd the tall jungle-grass,
 Shook the whole wood, are hush'd, and silently
 Hang on the cluster'd trees.
 All things in wonder and delight are still;
 Only at times the Nightingale is heard,
 Not that in emulous skill that sweetest bird
 Her rival strain would try,
 A mighty songster, with the Maid to vie;
 She only bore her part in powerful sympathy.

 13.
 Well might they thus adore that heavenly Maid!
 For never Nymph of Mountain,
 Or Grove, or Lake, or Fountain,
 With a diviner presence fill'd the shade.
 No idle ornaments deface
 Her natural grace,
 Musk-spot, nor sandal-streak, nor scarlet stain,
 Ear-drop nor chain, nor arm nor ankle-ring,
 Nor trinketry on front, or neck, or breast,
 Marring the perfect form: she seem'd a thing
 Of Heaven's prime uncorrupted work, a child
 Of early Nature undefil'd,
 {11}
 A daughter of the years of innocence.
 And therefore all things lov'd her. When she stood
 Beside the glassy pool, the fish, that flies
 Quick as an arrow from all other eyes,
 Hover'd to gaze on her. The mother bird,
 When Kailyal's steps she heard,
 Sought not to tempt her from her secret nest,
 But, hastening to the dear retreat, would fly
 To meet and welcome her benignant eye.

 14.
 Hope we have none, said Kailyal to her Sire.
 Said she aright? and had the Mortal Maid
 No thoughts of heavenly aid,..
 No secret hopes her inmost heart to move
 With longings of such deep and pure desire,
 As vestal Maids, whose piety is love,
 Feel in their extasies, when rapt above,
 Their souls unto their heavenly Spouse aspire?
 Why else so often doth that searching eye
 Roam through the scope of sky?
 Why, if she sees a distant speck on high,
 Starts there that quick suffusion to her cheek?
 'Tis but the Eagle, in his heavenly height;
 {12}
 Reluctant to believe, she hears his cry,
 And marks his wheeling flight,
 Then languidly averts her mournful sight.
 Why ever else, at morn, that waking sigh,
 Because the lovely form no more is nigh
 Which hath been present to her soul all night;
 And that injurious fear
 Which ever, as it riseth, is represt,
 Yet riseth still within her troubled breast,
 That she no more shall see the Glendoveer!

 15.
 Hath he forgotten me? The wrongful thought
 Would stir within her, and, though still repell'd
 With shame and self-reproaches, would recur.
 Days after days unvarying come and go,
 And neither friend nor foe
 Approaches them in their sequestered bower.
 Maid of strange destiny! but think not thou
 Thou art forgotten now,
 And hast no cause for farther hope or fear.
 High-fated Maid, thou dost not know
 What eyes watch over thee for weal and woe!
 Even at this hour,
 {13}
 Searching the dark decrees divine,
 Kehama, in the fulness of his power,
 Perceives his thread of fate entwin'd with thine.
 The Glendoveer, from his far sphere,
 With love that never sleeps, beholds thee here,
 And, in the hour permitted, will be near.
 Dark Lorrinite on thee hath fix'd her sight,
 And laid her wiles, to aid
 Foul Arvalan when he shall next appear;
 For well she ween'd his Spirit would renew
 Old vengeance now, with unremitting hate;
 The Enchantress well that evil nature knew,
 The accursed Spirit hath his prey in view,
 And thus, while all their separate hopes pursue,
 All work, unconsciously, the will of Fate.

 16.
 Fate work'd its own the while. A band
 Of Yoguees, as they roam'd the land,
 Seeking a spouse for Jaga-Naut their God,
 Stray'd to this solitary glade,
 And reach'd the bower wherein the Maid abode.
 Wondering at form so fair, they deem'd the power
 Divine had led them to his chosen bride,
 And seiz'd and bore her from her father's side.


 XIV.
 JAGA-NAUT.

 1.
 Joy in the city of great Jaga-Naut!
 Joy in the seven-headed Idol's shrine!
 A virgin-bride his ministers have brought,
 A mortal maid, in form and face divine,
 Peerless among all daughters of mankind;
 Search'd they the world again from East to West,
 In endless quest,
 Seeking the fairest and the best,
 No maid so lovely might they hope to find;..
 For she hath breath'd celestial air,
 And heavenly food hath been her fare,
 And heavenly thoughts and feelings give her face
 That heavenly grace.
 {15}
 Joy in the city of great Jaga-Naut,
 Joy in the seven-headed Idol's shrine!
 The fairest Maid his Yoguees sought,
 A fairer than the fairest have they brought,
 A maid of charms surpassing human thought,
 A maid divine.

 2.
 Now bring ye forth the Chariot of the God!
 Bring him abroad,
 That through the swarming City he may ride;
 And by his side
 Place ye the Maid of more than mortal grace,
 The Maid of perfect form and heavenly face!
 Set her aloft in triumph, like a bride
 Upon the bridal car,
 And spread the joyful tidings wide and far,..
 Spread it with trump and voice
 That all may hear, and all who hear rejoice,..
 The Mighty One hath found his mate! the God
 Will ride abroad!
 To-night will he go forth from his abode!
 Ye myriads who adore him,
 Prepare the way before him!

 {16}

 3.
 Uprear'd on twenty wheels elate,
 Huge as a Ship, the bridal car appear'd;
 Loud creak its ponderous wheels, as through the gate
 A thousand Bramins drag the enormous load.
 There, thron'd aloft in state,
 The image of the seven-headed God
 Came forth from his abode; and at his side
 Sate Kailyal like a bride;
 A bridal statue rather might she seem,
 For she regarded all things like a dream,
 Having no thought, nor fear, nor will, nor aught
 Save hope and faith, that liv'd within her still.

 4.
 O silent Night, how have they startled thee
 With the brazen trumpet's blare!
 And thou, O Moon! whose quiet light serene
 Filleth wide heaven, and bathing hill and wood,
 Spreads o'er the peaceful valley like a flood,
 How have they dimm'd thee with the torches' glare,
 Which round yon moving pageant flame and flare,
 As the wild rout, with deafening song and shout,
 Fling their long flashes out,
 That, like infernal lightnings, fire the air.

 {17