



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}

 5.
 A thousand pilgrims strain
 Arm, shoulder, breast and thigh, with might and main,
 To drag that sacred wain,
 And scarce can draw along the enormous load.
 Prone fall the frantic votaries in its road,
 And, calling on the God,
 Their self-devoted bodies there they lay
 To pave his chariot-way.
 On Jaga-Naut they call,
 The ponderous Car rolls on, and crushes all.
 Through blood and bones it ploughs its dreadful path.
 Groans rise unheard; the dying cry,
 And death and agony
 Are trodden under foot by yon mad throng,
 Who follow close, and thrust the deadly wheels along.

 6.
 Pale grows the Maid at this accursed sight;
 The yells which round her rise
 Have rous'd her with affright,
 And fear hath given to her dilated eyes
 A wilder light.
 Where shall those eyes be turn'd? she knows not where!
 {18}
 Downward they dare not look, for there
 Is death and horror, and despair;
 Nor can her patient looks to Heaven repair,
 For the huge Idol over her, in air,
 Spreads his seven hideous heads, and wide
 Extends their snaky necks on every side;
 And all around, behind, before,
 The bridal Car, is the raging rout,
 With frantic shout, and deafening roar,
 Tossing the torches' flames about.
 And the double double peals of the drum are there,
 And the startling burst of the trumpet's blare;
 And the gong, that seems, with its thunders dread,
 To stun the living, and waken the dead.
 The ear-strings throb as if they were broke,
 And the eye-lids drop at the weight of its stroke.
 Fain would the Maid have kept them fast,
 But open they start at the crack of the blast.

 7.
 Where art thou, Son of Heaven, Ereenia! where
 In this dread hour of horror and despair?
 Thinking on him, she strove her fear to quell,
 If he be near me, then will all be well;
 And, if he reck not for my misery,
 {19}
 Let come the worst, it matters not to me.
 Repel that wrongful thought,
 O Maid! thou feelest, but believ'st it not;
 It is thine own imperfect nature's fault
 That lets one doubt of him arise within.
 And this the Virgin knew; and, like a sin,
 Repell'd the thought, and still believ'd him true;
 And summoned up her spirit to endure
 All forms of fear, in that firm trust secure.

 8.
 She needs that faith, she needs that consolation,
 For now the Car hath measured back its track
 Of death, and hath re-entered now its station.
 There, in the Temple-court, with song and dance,
 A harlot-band, to meet the Maid, advance.
 The drum hath ceas'd its peals; the trump and gong
 Are still; the frantic crowd forbear their yells;
 And sweet it was to hear the voice of song,
 And the sweet music of their girdle-bells,
 Armlets and anklets, that, with chearful sounds
 Symphonious tinkled as they wheel'd around.

 9.
 They sung a bridal measure,
 {20}
 A song of pleasure,
 A hymn of joyaunce and of gratulation.
 Go, chosen One, they cried,
 Go, happy bride!
 For thee the God descends in expectation;
 For thy dear sake
 He leaves his heaven, O Maid of matchless charms.
 Go, happy One, the bed divine partake,
 And fill his longing arms!
 Thus to the inner fane,
 With circling dance and hymeneal strain,
 The astonish'd Maid they led,
 And there they laid her on the bridal bed.
 Then forth they went, and clos'd the Temple-gate,
 And left the wretched Kailyal to her fate.

 10.
 Where art thou, Son of Heaven, Ereenia, where?
 From the loathed bed she starts, and in the air
 Looks up, as if she thought to find him there!
 Then, in despair,
 Anguish and agony, and hopeless prayer,
 Prostrate she laid herself upon the floor.
 There, trembling as she lay,
 {21}
 The Bramin of the fane advanced
 And came to seize his prey.

 11.
 But as the Priest drew nigh,
 A power invisible opposed his way;
 Starting, he uttered wildly a death-cry,
 And fell. At that the Maid all eagerly
 Lifted in hope her head;
 She thought her own deliverer had been near;
 When lo! with other life re-animate,
 She saw the dead arise,
 And in the fiendish joy within his eyes,
 She knew the hateful Spirit who look'd through
 Their specular orbs,.. cloth'd in the flesh of man
 She knew the accursed soul of Arvalan.

 12.
 But not in vain, with the sudden shriek of fear,
 She calls Ereenia now; the Glendoveer
 Is here! Upon the guilty sight he burst
 Like lightning from a cloud, and caught the accurst,
 Bore him to the roof aloft, and on the floor
 With vengeance dash'd him, quivering there in gore.

 {22}

 13.
 Lo! from the pregnant air,.. heart-withering sight!
 There issued forth the dreadful Lorrinite,
 Seize him! the Enchantress cried;
 A host of Demons at her word appear,
 And like tornado winds, from every side
 At once, they rush upon the Glendoveer.
 Alone against a legion, little here
 Avails his single might,
 Nor that celestial faulchion, which in fight
 So oft had put the rebel race to flight.
 There are no Gods on earth to give him aid;
 Hemm'd round, he is overpower'd, beat down, and bound,
 And at the feet of Lorrinite is laid.

 14.
 Meantime the scattered members of the slain,
 Obedient to her mighty voice, assum'd
 Their vital form again,
 And that foul Spirit, upon vengeance bent,
 Fled to the fleshly tenement.
 Lo! here, quoth Lorrinite, thou seest thy foe!
 Him in the Ancient Sepulchres, below
 The billows of the Ocean, will I lay;
 {23}
 Gods are there none to help him now, and there
 For Man there is no way.
 To that dread scene of durance and despair,
 Asuras, bear your enemy! I go
 To chain him in the Tombs. Meantime do thou,
 Freed from thy foe, and now secure from fear,
 Son of Kehama, take thy pleasure here.

 15.
 Her words the accursed race obey'd;
 Forth with a sound like rushing winds they fled,
 And of all aid from Earth or Heaven bereft,
 Alone with Arvalan the Maid was left.
 But in that hour of agony, the Maid
 Deserted not herself; her very dread
 Had calm'd her; and her heart
 Knew the whole horror, and its only part.
 Yamen, receive me undefil'd! she said,
 And seiz'd a torch, and fir'd the bridal bed.
 Up ran the rapid flames; on every side
 They find their fuel wheresoe'er they spread,
 Thin hangings, fragrant gums, and odorous wood,
 That pil'd like sacrificial altars stood.
 Around they run, and upward they aspire,
 And, lo! the huge Pagoda lin'd with fire.

 {24}

 16.
 The wicked Soul, who had assum'd again
 A form of sensible flesh, for his foul will,
 Still bent on base revenge, and baffled still,
 Felt that corporeal shape alike to pain
 Obnoxious as to pleasure; forth he flew,
 Howling and scorch'd by the devouring flame;
 Accursed Spirit! still condemn'd to rue,
 The act of sin and punishment the same.
 Freed from his loathsome touch, a natural dread
 Came on the self-devoted, and she drew
 Back from the flames, which now toward her spread,
 And, like a living monster, seem'd to dart
 Their hungry tongues toward their shrinking prey.
 Soon she subdued her heart;
 O Father! she exclaim'd, there was no way
 But this! and thou, Ereenia, who for me
 Sufferest, my soul shall bear thee company.

 17.
 So having said, she knit
 Her body up to work her soul's desire,
 And rush at once amid the thickest fire.
 A sudden cry withheld her,.. Kailyal, stay!
 {25}
 Child! Daughter! I am here! the voice exclaims,
 And from the gate, unharm'd, through smoke and flames
 Like as a God, Ladurlad made his way;
 Wrapt his preserving arms around, and bore
 His Child, uninjur'd, o'er the burning floor.


 XV.
 THE CITY OF BALY.

 {26}

 KAILYAL.
 Ereenia!

 LADURLAD.
 Nay, let no reproachful thought
 Wrong his heroic heart! The Evil Powers
 Have the dominion o'er this wretched World,
 And no good Spirit now can venture here.

 KAILYAL.
 Alas, my Father! he hath ventur'd here,
 And sav'd me from one horror. But the Powers
 {27}
 Of Evil beat him down, and bore away
 To some dread scene of durance and despair,
 The Ancient Tombs, methought their Mistress said,
 Beneath the ocean-waves: no way for Man
 Is there; and Gods, she boasted, there are none
 On Earth to help him now.

 LADURLAD.
 Is that her boast?
 And hath she laid him in the Ancient Tombs,
 Relying that the Waves will guard him there?
 Short-sighted are the eyes of Wickedness,
 And all its craft but folly. O, my child!
 The Curses of the Wicked are upon me,
 And the immortal Deities, who see
 And suffer all things for their own wise end,
 Have made them blessings to us!

 KAILYAL.
 Then thou knowest
 Where they have borne him?

 LADURLAD.
 To the Sepulchres
 {28}
 Of the Ancient Kings, which Baly, in his power,
 Made in primeval times; and built above them
 A City, like the Cities of the Gods,
 Being like a God himself. For many an age
 Hath Ocean warr'd against his Palaces,
 Till overwhelm'd, they lie beneath the waves,
 Not overthrown, so well the Mighty One
 Had laid their deep foundations. Rightly said
 The Accursed, that no way for Man was there,
 But not like Man am I!

 1.
 Up from the ground the Maid exultant sprung,
 And clapp'd her happy hands, in attitude
 Of thanks, to Heaven, and flung
 Her arms around her Father's neck, and stood
 Struggling awhile for utterance, with excess
 Of hope and pious thankfulness.
 Come.. come! she cried, O let us not delay,..
 He is in torments there,.. away!.. away!

 2.
 Long time they travell'd on; at dawn of day
 Still setting forward with the earliest light,
 {29}
 Nor ceasing from their way
 Till darkness clos'd the night.
 Short refuge from the noontide heat,
 Reluctantly compell'd, the Maiden took;
 And ill her indefatigable feet
 Could that brief tarriance brook.
 Hope kept her up, and her intense desire
 Supports that heart which ne'er at danger quails,
 Those feet which never tire,
 That frame which never fails.

 3.
 Their talk was of the City of the days
 Of old, Earth's wonder once; and of the fame
 Of Baly its great founder,.. he whose name
 In ancient story, and in poet's praise,
 Liveth and flourisheth for endless glory,
 Because his might
 Put down the wrong, and aye upheld the right.
 Till for ambition, as old sages tell,
 The mighty Monarch fell:
 For he too, having made the World his own,
 Then, in his pride, had driven
 The Devetas from Heaven,
 {30}
 And seiz'd triumphantly the Swerga throne.
 The Incarnate came before the Mighty One,
 In dwarfish stature, and in mien obscure;
 The sacred cord he bore,
 And ask'd, for Brama's sake, a little boon,
 Three steps of Baly's ample reign, no more.
 Poor was the boon requir'd, and poor was he
 Who begg'd,.. a little wretch it seem'd to be;
 But Baly ne'er refus'd a suppliant's prayer.
 A glance of pity, in contemptuous mood,
 He on the Dwarf cast down,
 And bade him take the boon,
 And measure where he would.

 4.
 Lo, Son of giant birth,
 I take my grant! the Incarnate power replies.
 With his first step he measur'd o'er the Earth,
 The second spann'd the skies.
 Three paces thou hast granted,
 Twice have I set my footstep, Veeshnoo cries,
 Where shall the third be planted?

 5.
 Then Baly knew the God, and at his feet,
 {31}
 In homage due, he laid his humbled head.
 Mighty art thou, O Lord of Earth and Heaven,
 Mighty art thou! he said,
 Be merciful, and let me be forgiven.
 He ask'd for mercy of the merciful,
 And mercy for his virtue's sake was shown.
 For though he was cast down to Padalon,
 Yet there, by Yamen's throne,
 Doth Baly sit in majesty and might,
 To judge the dead, and sentence them aright.
 And forasmuch as he was still the friend
 Of righteousness, it is permitted him,
 Yearly, from those drear regions to ascend,
 And walk the Earth, that he may hear his name
 Still hymn'd and honour'd, by the grateful voice
 Of humankind, and in his fame rejoice.

 6.
 Such was the talk they held upon their way,
 Of him to whose old City they were bound;
 And now, upon their journey, many a day
 Had risen and clos'd, and many a week gone round,
 And many a realm and region had they past,
 When now the Ancient Towers appear'd at last.

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 7.
 Their golden summits, in the noon-day light,
 Shone o'er the dark-green deep that roll'd between;
 For domes, and pinnacles, and spires were seen
 Peering above the sea,.. a mournful sight!
 Well might the sad beholder ween from thence
 What works of wonder the devouring wave
 Had swallowed there, when monuments so brave
 Bore record of their old magnificence.
 And on the sandy shore, beside the verge
 Of Ocean, here and there, a rock-hewn fane
 Resisted in its strength the surf and surge
 That on their deep foundations beat in vain.
 In solitude the Ancient Temples stood,
 Once resonant with instrument and song,
 And solemn dance of festive multitude;
 Now as the weary ages pass along,
 No voice they hear, save of the Ocean flood,
 Which roars for ever on the restless shores;
 Or, visiting their solitary caves,
 The lonely sound of Winds, that moan around
 Accordant to the melancholy waves.

 8.
 With reverence did the travellers see
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 The works of ancient days, and silently
 Approach the shore. Now on the yellow sand,
 Where round their feet the rising surges part,
 They stand. Ladurlad's heart
 Exulted in his wonderous destiny.
 To Heaven he rais'd his hand
 In attitude of stern heroic pride;
 Oh what a power, he cried,
 Thou dreadful Rajah, doth thy Curse impart!
 I thank thee now!.. Then turning to the Maid,
 Thou see'st how far and wide
 Yon Towers extend, he said,
 My search must needs be long. Meantime the flood
 Will cast thee up thy food,..
 And in the Chambers of the Rock by night,
 Take thou thy safe abode,
 No prowling beast to harm thee, or affright,
 Can enter there; but wrap thyself with care
 From the foul Bird obscene that thirsts for blood;
 For in such caverns doth the Bat delight
 To have its haunts. Do thou with stone and shout,
 Ere thou liest down at evening, scare them out,
 And in this robe of mine involve thy feet.
 Duly commend us both to Heaven in prayer,
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 Be of good heart, and let thy sleep be sweet.

 9.
 So saying, he put back his arm, and gave
 The cloth which girt his loins, and prest her hand
 With fervent love, then down the sloping sand
 Advanced into the sea: the coming Wave,
 Which knew Kehama's Curse, before his way
 Started, and on he went as