Page:The Bengali Book of English Verse.djvu/114

82  They bowed before the mystic Power, And as they home returned in thought, Each took from thence a lotus flower In memory of the day and spot.

Years, centuries, have passed away, And still before the temple shrine Descendants of the pedlar pay Shell bracelets of the old design As annual tribute. Much they own In land and gold,—but they confess From that eventful day alone Dawned on their industry,—success. Absurd may be the tale I tell, Ill-suited to the marching times; I loved the lips from which it fell, So let it stand among my rhymes.

 

