Page:An Indian Study of Love and Death.pdf/16

12 Verily are the ﬂowers withered, O Beloved, in our forests. And all the pools are emptied of their lotuses.

For us are the voices of the singing-birds become silent, and dark clouds have passed over the face of the stars.

Since thy feet come never again across our threshold. Neither is light seen again within thine eyes.

O thou that wert beforetime with us, and hast left us, hear once again, before thou goest forth, our salutation and farewell!

Tenderly here at thy dead feet we make memorial of all thy past.

With inﬁnite lovingness do we live