Some flowers of hope amid the desert bloom: Life has no perfect good, no endless ill, No constant brightness, no perpetual gloom; But circling as a wheel, and never still, Now down, and now above, all must their fate fulfil. XC. Four months remain, and when that age is fled, Then ends my banishment and all our pain: When Vishnu rises from his serpent bed' Where lapt in sleep the Bow-armed God has lain, Thy lover speeds to home and thee again : His silver influence on our nights shall rain, More exquisitely sweet for all remembered woe. "The serpent couch is the great snake Ananta, upon which Vishnu, or, as he is here called, the Holder of the bow Sarnga (the horn-bow), reclines, during four months, from the 11th of Asharha to the 11th of Kartik; or, as it has occurred in 1813 (the year in which the first edition was printed), from the 23rd of June to the 26th of October. The sleep of Vishnu, during the four months of the periodical rains in Hindustan, seems to bear an emblematical relation to that season. It has been compared to the Egyptian Hieroglyphical account of the sleep of Horus, typical of the annual overflow of the Nile, by the late Mr. Paterson, in his ingenious Essay on the Origin of the Hindu Re ligion. Asiatic Researches, vol. viii.” H. H. WILSON. XCI. Once more I see thee, but no more alone, Thy senses steept in dews of slumber, lie, With thy fond arms around thy husband thrown. Thou startest, weeping, and I ask thee why Thy soul is troubled when thy lord is nigh. Traitor,' thou sayest, as a smile and tear Plays on thy lip and glistens in thine eye, XCII. But, dark-eyed beauty, rest thou ever sure Store in thy heart the message which I send, And soothe thee with the trust that love like mine Will live unchanging on till time shall end; Burn with a flame that ne'er shall know decline, But, fed with hope, each day shall yet more brightly shine.' XCIII. "Wilt thou, dear Cloud, through regions far away, This loving message to my darling bear? Silent art thou, yet not in vain I pray ; For when the Rain-birds, in the sultry air, Crave the cool shower of thee, thou dost not care And their faint strength and flagging wings repair: Deeming the granted wish best answer to a friend. XCIV. Thus, faithful herald, having cheered her heart Who mourns in joyless solitude her fate, From the high forehead of that hill depart Where the celestial Bull, who bears the weight Of Siva, rends the rock with joy elate: Return to me, and let my spirit know Some comfort, hearing of my darling's state, Ere my soul sink beneath its weight of woe Like a frail jasmine-bud scorcht by the summer's glow. XCV. So shall my thanks repay thy gentle deed, To pleasant regions where thou fain wouldst be, May the sweet rain ne'er fail thee; and thy bride, Flashing upon thy breast or sporting at thy side." XCVI. The mourner ceased; the airy envoy heard; His ear That led his yielding spirit to relent, And made him, ere the term was nigh, restore The exile languishing in banishment, And freely bade him, all his trials o'er, Live with his love again with joy for evermore. KUMBHAKARNA. "Kumbhakarna, the gigantic brother of the titanic Ravan,-named from the size of his ears which could contain a Kumbha or large water-jar—had such an appetite that he used to consume six months' provisions in a single day. Brahma, to relieve the alarm of the world, which had begun to entertain serious apprehensions of being eaten up, decreed that the giant should sleep six months at a time and wake for only one day during which he might consume his six months' allowance without trespassing unduly on the reproductive capabilities of the earth. When Rama invaded the capital of Ravan, the titans requiring all their forces, employed the most violent measures-and eventually with success-to wake the sleeping giant." With troubled spirit and with broken pride Through Lanka's gate the vanquisht Ravan hied, The lion's spring, and feels the murderous teeth, Or like a serpent 'neath the furious wing At the swift arrows shot by Rama's arm Shafts, with the flame of lightning round them curled," Like Brahma's fiery bolts that end the world. At length, supported on his golden throne, With failing eye he spoke and humbled tone : "Alas! ye giants, all the toil is vain, X |