Page:TheBirth of the War-God.djvu/74

62 So bright your presence—at the glorious siglit My brooding shades of darkness turn to light, The gloom that haunts my mountain caverns flies, And cloudy passion in the spirit dies. say, if here your arrowy course ye sped To throw fresh glory round my towering head? Surely your wish, ye Mighty Ones, can crave No aid, no service from your willing slave, Yet deem me worthy of some high behest. The Lord commandeth, and the slave is blest. Declare your pleasure, then, bright Heavenly Band, We crave no guerdon but your sole command; Yours are we all, and his bride. And this dear maiden child our hope and pride."

Not once he spake—his cavern mouths around In hollow echoings gave again the sound. Of all who speak beyond compare the best, answered at the Saint's request:— "This power hast thou, great King, and mightier far. Thy mind is lofty as thy summits are; Sages say truly, Vishnu is thy name, His spirit breatheth in thy mountain frame; Within the caverns of thy boundless breast All things that move and all that move not rest. How on his head so soft, so delicate. Could the great Snake uphold the huge Earth's weight. Did not thy roots, far-reaching down to Hell, Bear up the burden and assist him well? Thy streams of praise, thy pure rills' ceaseless flow Make glad the nations wheresoe'r they go.