Classic Poem

1.

Oye who, by the Lake
On Meru Mount, partake
The joys which Heaven hath destin'd for the blest,
Swift, swift the moments fly,
The silent hours go by,
And ye must leave your dear abode of rest.
O wretched Man, prepare
Again thy Curse to bear!
Prepare, O wretched Maid, for further woe!
The fatal hour draws near,
When Indra's heavenly sphere
Must own the Tyrant of the World below.
To-day the hundredth Steed
At Seeva's shrine must bleed;
The dreadful sacrifice is full to-day;
Nor man nor God hath power,
At this momentous hour,
Again to save the Swerga from his sway.
Fresh woes, O Maid divine,
Fresh trials must be thine:
And what must thou, Ladurlad, yet endure!
But let your hearts be strong,
And rise against all wrong,
For Providence is just, and virtue is secure.

2.

They, little deeming that the fatal day
Was come, beheld, where through the morning sky
A Ship of Heaven drew nigh.
Onward they watch it steer its steady flight;
Till, wondering, they espy
Old Casyapa, the Sire of Gods, alight.
But when Ereenia saw the Sire appear,
At that unwonted and unwelcome sight
His heart received a sudden shock of fear.
Thy presence doth its doleful tidings tell,
O Father! cried the startled Glendoveer!
The dreadful hour is near! I know it well!
Not for less import would the Sire of Gods
Forsake his ancient and august abodes.

3.

Even so, serene the immortal Sire replies;
Soon like an earthquake will ye feel the blow
Which consummates the mighty sacrifice
And this World, and its Heaven, and all therein,
Are then Kehama's. To the second ring
Of these seven Spheres, the Swerga King,
Even now, prepares for flight,
Beyond the circle of the conquer'd world,
Beyond the Rajah's might.
Ocean, that clips this inmost of the Spheres,
And girds it round with everlasting roar,
Set like a gem appears
Within that bending shore.
Thither fly all the Sons of heavenly race:
I, too, forsake mine ancient dwelling-place.
And now, O Child and Father, ye must go
Take up the burden of your woe,
And wander once again below.
With patient heart hold onward to the end:
Be true unto yourselves, and bear in mind
That every God is still the good Man's friend;
And when the Wicked have their day assign'd,
Then they who suffer bravely save mankind.

4.

Oh, tell me, cried Ereenia, — for from thee
Nought can be hidden, — when the end will be,

Seek not to know, old Casyapa replied,
What pleaseth Heaven to hide.
Dark is the abyss of Time,
But light enough to guide your steps is given;
Whatever weal or woe betide,
Turn never from the way of truth aside,
And leave the event, in holy hope, to Heaven
The moment is at hand; no more delay;
Ascend the ethereal bark, and go your way,
And Ye, of heavenly nature, follow me.

5.

The will of Heaven be done, Ladurlad cried;
Nor more the man replied,
But placed his daughter in the ethereal bark;
Then took his seat beside.
There was no word at parting, no adieu.
Down from that empyreal height they flew
One groan Ladurlad breathed, yet utter'd not;
When, to his heart and brain,
The fiery Curse again like lightning shot.
And now on earth the Sire and Child alight;
Up soar'd the Ship of Heaven, and sail'd away from sight.

6.

Oye immortal Bowers,
Where hitherto the Hours
Have led their dance of happiness for aye,
With what a sense of woe
DOye expect the blow,
And see your heavenly dwellers driven away!
Lo! where the aunnay-birds of graceful mien,
Whose milk-white forms were seen,
Lovely as Nymphs, your ancient trees between,
And by your silent springs,
With melancholy cry,
Now spread unwilling wings;
Their stately necks reluctant they protend,
And through the sullen sky,
To other worlds, their mournful progress bend.

7.

The affrighted gales to-day
O'er their beloved streams no longer play;
The streams of Paradise have ceased to flow;
The Fountain-Tree withholds its diamond-shower
In this portentous hour, —
This dolorous hour, — this universal woe.
Where is the Palace, whose far-flashing beams,
With streaks and streams of ever-varying light,
Brighten'd the polar night
Around the frozen North's extremest shore?
Gone like a morning rainbow, — like a dream, —
A star that shoots and falls, and then is seen no more.

8.

Now! now! — Before the Golden Palaces,
The Bramin strikes the inevitable hour.
The fatal blow is given,
That over Earth and Heaven
Confirms the Almighty Rajah in his power.
All evil Spirits then,
That roam the World about,
Or wander through the sky,
Set up a joyful shout.
The Asuras and the Giants join the cry;
The damn'd in Padalon acclaim
Their hoped Deliverer's name;
Heaven trembles with the thunder-drowning sound;
Back starts affrighted Ocean from the shore,
And the adamantine vaults and brazen floor
Of Hell are shaken with the roar.
Up rose the Rajah through the conquer'd sky,
To seize the Swerga for his proud abode;
Myriads of evil Genii round him fly,
As royally on wings of winds he rode,
And scaled high Heaven, triumphant like a God.