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Indian Poetry Containing "The Indian Song of Songs," from the Sanskrit of the Gita Govinda of Jayadeva, Two books from "The Iliad Of India" (Mahabharata), "Proverbial Wisdom" from the Shlokas of the Hitopadesa, and other Oriental Poems.



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REVERENCE TO GANESHA! "The sky is clouded; and the wood resemblesThe sky, thick-arched with black Tamâla boughs;O Radha, Radha! take this Soul, that tremblesIn life's deep midnight, to Thy golden house."So Nanda spoke,—and, led by Radha's spirit,The feet of Krishna found the road aright;Wherefore, in bliss which all high hearts inherit,Together taste they Love's divine delight. He who wrote these things for thee,Of the Son of Wassoodee, Was the poet Jayadeva;Him Saraswati gave everFancies fair his mind to throng,Like pictures palace-walls along;Ever to his notes of loveLakshmi's mystic dancers move.If thy spirit seeks to broodOn Hari glorious, Hari good;If it feeds on solemn numbers.Dim as dreams and soft as slumbers,Lend thine ear to Jayadev,Lord of all the spells that save.Umapatidhara's strainGlows like roses after rain;Sharan's stream-like song is grand,If its tide ye understand;Bard more wise beneath the sunIs not found than Govardhun;Dhoyi holds the listener stillWith his shlokes of subtle skill;But for sweet words suited wellJayadeva doth excel.

(What follows is to the Music Mâlava and the Mode Rupaka.)

HYMN TO VISHNU O thou that held'st the blessed Veda dryWhen all things else beneath the floods were hurled;Strong Fish-God! Ark of Men! Jai! Hari, jai!Hail, Keshav, hail! thou Master of the world! The round world rested on thy spacious nape;Upon thy neck, like a mere mole, it stood:O thou that took'st for us the Tortoise-shape,Hail, Keshav, hail! Ruler of wave and wood! The world upon thy curving tusk sate sure,Like the Moon's dark disc in her crescent pale;O thou who didst for us assume the Boar,Immortal Conqueror! hail, Keshav, hail! When thou thy Giant-Foe didst seize and rend,Fierce, fearful, long, and sharp were fang and nail;Thou who the Lion and the Man didst blend,Lord of the Universe! hail, Narsingh, hail! Wonderful Dwarf!—who with a threefold strideCheated King Bali—where thy footsteps fallMen's sins, O Wamuna! are set aside:O Keshav, hail! thou Help and Hope of all! The sins of this sad earth thou didst assoil,The anguish of its creatures thou didst heal;Freed are we from all terrors by thy toil:Hail, Purshuram, hail! Lord of the biting steel! To thee the fell Ten-Headed yielded life,Thou in dread battle laid'st the monster low!Ah, Rama! dear to Gods and men that strife;We praise thee, Master of the matchless bow! With clouds for garments glorious thou dost fare,Veiling thy dazzling majesty and might,As when Yamuna saw thee with the share,A peasant—yet the King of Day and Night. Merciful-hearted! when thou earnest as Boodh—Albeit 'twas written in the Scriptures so—Thou bad'st our altars be no more imbruedWith blood of victims: Keshav! bending low— We praise thee, Wielder of the sweeping sword,Brilliant as curving comets in the gloom,Whose edge shall smite the fierce barbarian horde;Hail to thee, Keshav! hail, and hear, and come, And fill this song of Jayadev with thee,And make it wise to teach, strong to redeem,And sweet to living souls....