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 Oh, Khristna, I am coming, I can no more delay. "My heart has flown to join thee," How shall my footsteps stay?

Beloved, such thoughts have peril; The wish is in my mind That I had fired the jungle, And left no leaf behind,— Burnt all bamboos to ashes, And made their music mute,— To save thee from the magic Of Khristna and his flute. 25