Page:A History of Hindi Literature.djvu/90

 76 A HISTORY OF HINDI LITERATURE Vitthalnath. He was the author of some Krishnaite lyrics of considerable merit. Raskhd?i (fl. 1614) was a Muhammadan at first and his name was then Sayyad Ibrahim. He became a worshipper of Krishna and wrote verses in his honour which are said to be full of devotion and sweetness. A disciple of Raskhan was Oadir Baksh, who also wrote Hindi poetry. The Radha-Vallabhis.— A new sect was founded in Brindaban about 1585 known as the Radha-Vallabhls. In this sect Radha is placed above Krishna as an object of devotion. Its founder was Ha^-i Vamsa (also called Hit Haribayis, or Hit Ji). His father was a Gaur Brah- man named Vyasa, who was in the service of the Muhammadan Emperor. Hari Varh^a wrote in Sans- krit the Radha- sudha-nidhi, which consists of 170 coup- lets. His principal work in Hindi is the Chaurasi Pad (or Premlata). The erotic side of the Krishna cult is very prominent in these works and they are full of sensuous imagery, but Hari Varh^a possesses great skill as a poet and holds a high place in Hindi literature. A few stanzas are here given : — " Whatever my Beloved doeth is pleasing to me ; and whatever is pleasing to me, that my Beloved doeth. The place where I would be is in my Beloved's eyes ; and my Beloved would fain be the apple of my eyes. My Love is dearer to me than body, soul, or life ; and my Love would lose a thousand lives for me. Rejoice, Sri Hit Hari Vans ! the loving pair, one dark, one fair, are like two cygnets ; tell us who can separate wave from water ? " O my Beloved, has the fair spoken ? this is surely a beautiful night ; the lightning is folded in the lusty cloud's embrace. O friend, where is the woman, who could quarrel with so exquisite a prince of gallants ? Rejoice, Sri Hari Vans ! dear Radhika hearkened with her ears and with voluptuous emotion joined in love's delight. " Come Radha, you knowing one, your paragon of lovers has started a dance on the bank of the Jamuna's stream. Bevies of damsels are dancing in all the abandonment of delight ; the joyous pipe gives forth a stirring sound. Near the Bansi-bat, a sweetly pretty spot, where the spicy air breathes with delicious softness, where the half-opened jasmine fills the world with overpowering fragrance, beneath the clear radiance of the autumnal full moon, the milkmaids with raptured eyes are gazing on your glorious lord, all beautiful from head to foot, quick to remove love's every pain. Put your arms about