Page:Ancient Ballads and Legends of Hindustan.djvu/55

Rh The afternoon has come and gone
 * And brought no change;—should she rejoice?

The gentle evening's shades come on,
 * When hark!—She hears her husband's voice!

"The twilight is most beautiful!
 * Mother, to gather fruit I go,

And fuel,—for the air is cool
 * Expect me in an hour or so."

"The night, my child, draws on apace,"
 * The mother's voice was heard to say,

"The forest paths are hard to trace
 * In darkness,—till the morrow stay."

"Not hard for me, who can discern
 * The forest-paths in any hour,

Blindfold I could with ease return,
 * And day has not yet lost its power."

"He goes then," thought Savitri, "thus
 * With unseen bands Fate draws us on

Unto the place appointed us;
 * We feel no outward force,—anon

We go to marriage or to death
 * At a determined time and place;

We are her playthings; with her breath
 * She blows us where she lists in space.