308 Lieut. -Colonel Tod on the Religious Establishments of Me-xar. 



" breathing Caliya, who beamedst like a sun on the tribe of Yadu, that 

 " flourished like a lotus ; thou, who sittest on the plumage of Garura, who 

 " sippest nectar from the radiant lips of Pedma, as the fluttering CAffcora 

 " drinks the moon-beams ; be victorious, O Heri !" 



Jydeva then introduces Heri in the society of the pastoral nymphs of Vrij, 

 whom he groups with admirable skill, expressing the passion by which eacli 

 i9»animated towards the youthful prince with great warmth and elegance of 

 diction. But Radha, indignant that he should divide with them the affec- 

 tion she deemed exclusively her own, flies his presence. Heri, repentant 

 and alarmed, now searches the forest for his beloved, giving vent at each step 

 to an impassioned grief. " Woe is me ! she feels a sense of injured honour, 

 " and has departed in wrath. How will she conduct herself ? How will she 

 " express her pain in so long a separation? What is wealth to me? What 

 " are numerous attendants ? What the pleasures of the world ? How can 

 " I invite thee to return ? Grant me but a sight of tliee, oh ! lovely Radha, 

 " for my passion torments me. O God of love ! mistake me not for Siva. 

 " Wound me not again. I love already but too passionately ; yet have I 

 " lost my beloved. Brace not thy bow, thou conqueror of the world ! 

 " My heart is already pierced by arrows from Radha's eyes, black and 

 " keen as those of the antelope." 



Radha relents and sends a damsel in quest of Heri, whom she finds in 

 a solitary arbour on the banks of the Yamuna. She describes her mistress 

 as animated by the same despair which controls him : 



«' Her face is like a water lily veiled in the dew of tears, and her eyes 

 " are as moons eclipsed. She draws thy picture and worships it, and at the 

 " close of every sentence exclaims, 'O Madhava, at thy feet am I fallen !' 

 " Then she figures thee standing before her : she sighs, she smiles, 

 " she mourns, she weeps. Her abode, the forest — herself through thy 

 " absence is become a timid roe, and love is the tiger who springs on her 

 " like Yama, the genius of death. So emaciated is her beautiful body, 

 " that even the light garland which waves o'er her bosom is a load. The 

 " palm of her hand supports her aching temple, motionless as the crescent 

 " rising at eve. Thus, O divine healer, by the nectar of thy love must 

 " Radha be restored to health -, and if thou refusest, thy heart must be 

 " harder than the tliunder-stone."* 



" We meet with various little philosophical phenomena used as similies in this rhapsody of 

 Jydeva. These aerolites, mentioned by a poet the contemporary of David and Solomon, are 

 but recently known to the European philosopher. 



