Page:Ancient Ballads and Legends of Hindustan.djvu/120

84 And now, by tests assured, he knows His own God-gifted wondrous might, Nothing to any man he owes, Unaided he has won the fight; Equal to gods themselves,—above Wishmo and Drona,—for his worth His name, he feels, shall be with love Reckoned with great names of the earth.

Yet lacks he not, in reverence To Dronacharjya, who declined To teach him,—nay, with e'en offence That well might wound a noble mind, Drove him away;—for in his heart Meek, placable, and ever kind, Resentment had not any part, And Malice never was enshrined.

One evening, on his work intent, Alone he practised Archery, When lo! the bow proved false and sent The arrow from its mark awry; Again he tried,—and failed again; Why was it? Hark!—A wild dog's bark! An evil omen:—it was plain Some evil on his path hung dark!