Page:Last Poems.djvu/54

 If one should meet me with a knife And cut my heart in twain, Then would he see the smoke arise From every severed vein. Such is the burning, inward fire, The anguish of my pain, For my Beloved, whose dying lips Implored a kiss—in vain! How could I know That thou wouldst go, Oh, Lallji, my desire? Too young thou art To lay thy heart Upon the Sandal pyre.

Thy wife awaits her coming child; What were a child to me, If I might take thee in these arms And face the flames with thee? The priests are chanting round the pyre, At dusk they will depart And leave to thee thy lonely rest, To me my lonelier heart. How could I know Thou lovedst me so? Upon the Sandal pyre He lies forsaken. The flames have taken My Lallji, my desire! 42