Page:Poets of John Company.djvu/127



The fresh wind blows from northern snows;
 * The nights are dank with dew;

A mound of fire the Simal glows;
 * The young rice shoots anew;

In mornings cool from reedy pool
 * Up springs the whistling crane;

The wild fowl fly through sunset sky;
 * The sweet juice fills the cane.

Come, Krishna, from the tyrant proud
 * How long shall virtue flee?

The lightning loves the evening cloud,
 * And I love thee.

The breeze moves slow with thick perfume
 * From every mango grove;

From coral tree to parrot bloom
 * The black bees questing rove;

The koil wakes the early dawn,
 * He calls the spring all day;

The jasmine smiles by glade and lawn;
 * The lake with buds is gay.

Come, Krishna! leave Vaikuntha's bower;
 * Do thou our refuge be;

The koil loves the mango flower.
 * And I love thee.

Low from the brink the waters shrink;
 * The deer all sniff for rain:

The panting cattle search for drink
 * Cracked glebe and dusty plain;