Classic Poem

I

A RJUN , bent on mighty penance,
Followed Ganga's rocky course,
Scaled the hills, as Vishnu mounted
Golden bird that heavenward soars.
Forest trees like holy hermits
Sang his praise by hum of bees,
Bent their heads to yield their blossoms,
Shaken by the gentle breeze.
And the woodland-scented zephyr,
Saturate with Ganga's spray,
Blew on Arjun's face and forehead,
Clasped them in their amorous play.
And the mountain torrent's music,
And the forest's mingled cry,
Stirred his heart like beat of war-drum,
Waked in him a purpose high!

II

Wild cascades and rolling rivers
Broke the tall tree in their course,
But the gentle creeper bending
Escaped their all-resistless force.
Tuneful birds arose before him,
And with voices filled the brake,
Filled the bosom of the waters,
Spread a mantle on the lake!
Elephants in deeper jungle
Marked the hills with many a scar,
And the moisture from their temples
Drew the wild bees from afar.
On the lake the golden Chakwa
Mingled in the wave of gold,
Till the wild cry of the female
Jealous love and anguish told.
Varying tints upon the waters
Shewed the gems that hidden lay,
As the blushes of the maiden
Secrets of the heart betray!
Till the rising mountain tempest
Broke the waters' silver sheen,
And the foam like Ketak blossoms,
Whitened all the woodland scene!

III

Arjun marked the spots of brightness
Floating on the water's sheen, —
Oily creatures of the streamlets
Gambolled in the caves within;
And he saw the shells of mountains
Lying on the rocky bed, —
Drops of beauty in them glistened,
Were they tears in sorrow shed?
Creepers bloomed in shoots of crimson,
Sparkling in the dew-drop's glow, —
Calling to the eye of lovers
Lips of red and teeth of snow!
Tuskers gambolled in the waters,
Frolicked in the streamlets fair,
And the perfume from their temples
Lent a fragrance to the air;
And the scaly water serpent
Often darted in the air,
Breathed its poisoned breath in bubbles
White as cloudlets soft and fair;
And the fishes glanced and sparkled,
Quick as woman's glances bold,
And as maids wait on their princess,
Streams to Ganga's waters rolled!

IV

Arjun scaled a spacious upland,
Found a spot alone, apart,
Graced by many a flower of forest,
Pure as purity of heart;
And the creepers starred with blossoms,
Trees where fruits in clusters hung,
Bent the heart of pious Arjun
To his penance deep and long;
And by rules he fixed his purpose
On the rites which hermits know,
What though arduous his devotions,
Faith of heart can conquer woe!
Quelling every earthly passion,
Cleansing sin by holy light,
Arjun rose in righteous merit
Like the waxing moon of night!
By his ceaseless contemplation
Cravings of the flesh he stilled,
Till a perfect peace and calmness
Arjun's steadfast bosom filled; —
Till by hymns and high devotion
He had won the highest grace,
And within him dwelt harmonious
Matchless power and mighty peace!

V

Arjun wore his plaited tresses,
Red as anchorites should wear, —
As the tall trees wear their foliage
Crimsoned by the sunbeams fair;
Girt in arms, but calm and saint-like,
Gentle, but august and tall, —
Forest creatures knew his kindness
Love of heart endeareth all!
Softly on him blew the breezes,
Shed a fragrance as they went,
Fiery sun forgot his glamour
And a chastened radiance lent;
And when Arjun plucked the blossoms
Stately trees bent down their head,
Earth put forth her softest mantle
For the hero's nightly bed!
Cloudless sky to him auspicious
Sent its showers the dust to lay,
Kindly nature helped his penance,
Nursed the hermit night and day;
And the blossom of his fortune
Thus its glorious fruitage bore, —
But these signs changed not his ardour,
Calm and changeless evermore!

VI

Indra's menials in the forest
Witnessed Arjun's rites severe,
Of his penance long and lonesome
Spake to Indra in their fear;
And before the Thunder-Wielder
Gently their obeisance made,
And in soft and humble accents
Of the unknown hermit said.

VII

" Like a bright star of the sky,
Clad in barks on yonder hill,
One, intent on purpose high,
Doth his rites, — and earth is still!
Arms whose muscles snake-like coil
Hold an ever bended bow, —
But all gentle are his deeds,
Gentler soul lives not below!
Winds blow soft, the sward is green,
Grateful rains the dust allay,
Elements by worth subdued
In accord obeisance pay!
Forest beasts their strife forget,
Listen to his beck and word,
Trees on him with blossoms wait,
Mountains own him as their lord!
Penance speaks a purpose high,
Dauntless mein denotes success, —
Hermit, but a warrior too,
Who he be, we may not guess!
If from saints he counts descent,
Or from warlike kingly line, —
Who can tell, or why in woods
He performs his rites divine;
If he toils for purpose pure,
If for empire, who can guess, —
Foresters are poor in sense,
Thou must know, and thou canst bless!