Page:Ancient Ballads and Legends of Hindustan.djvu/70

34 Thanks to thy simple presence. Now
 * I feel a fresher air around,

And see the glory of that brow
 * With flashing rubies fitly crowned.

Men call thee Yama—conqueror,
 * Because it is against their will

They follow thee,—and they abhor
 * The Truth which thou wouldst aye instil.

If they thy nature knew aright,
 * O god, all other gods above!

And that thou conquerest in the fight
 * By patience, kindness, mercy, love,

And not by devastating wrath,
 * They would not shrink in childlike fright

To see thy shadow on their path,
 * But hail thee as sick souls the light."

"Thy words, Savitri, greet mine ear
 * As sweet as founts that murmur low

To one who in the deserts drear
 * With parchèd tongue moves faint and slow,

Because thy talk is heart-sincere,
 * Without hypocrisy or guile;

Demand another boon, my dear,
 * But not of those forbad erewhile,