Page:Ancient Ballads and Legends of Hindustan.djvu/54

18 Upon the fourteenth of the moon,
 * As nearer came the time of dread,

In Joystee, that is May or June,
 * She vowed her vows and Bramins fed.

And now she counted e'en the hours,
 * As to Eternity they past;

O'er head the dark cloud darker lowers,
 * The year is rounding full at last.

To-day,—to-day,—with doleful sound
 * The word seem'd in her ear to ring!

O breaking heart,—thy pain profound
 * Thy husband knows not, nor the king,

Exiled and blind, nor yet the queen;
 * But One knows in His place above.

To-day,—to-day,—it will be seen
 * Which shall be victor, Death or Love!

Incessant in her prayers from morn,
 * The noon is safely tided,—then

A gleam of faint, faint hope is born,
 * But the heart fluttered like a wren

That sees the shadow of the hawk
 * Sail on,—and trembles in affright,

Lest a downrushing swoop should mock
 * Its fortune, and o'erwhelm it quite.