Page:Ancient Ballads and Legends of Hindustan.djvu/140

102 Speak to us, dear one—only speak,
 * And Calm our idle fears,

Where hast thou been, and what to seek?
 * Have pity on these tears."

With head bent low the monarch heard,
 * Then came a cruel throb

That tore his heart,—still not a word,
 * Only a stifled sob!

"It is not Sindhu—who art thou?
 * And where is Sindhu gone?

There's blood upon thy hands—avow!"
 * "There is."—"Speak on, speak on."

The dead child in their arms he placed,
 * And briefly told his tale,

The parents their dead child embraced,
 * And kissed his forehead pale.

"Our hearts are broken. Come, dear wife,
 * On earth no more we dwell;

Now welcome Death, and farewell Life,
 * And thou, O king, farewell!