the Songs of Jayade'va. 199 



* which thou haft imprinted on the beautiful eyes of thy darling graced 



* with dark blue powder; and thy limbs marked with punctures in love's 



* warfare, exhibit a letter of conqueft written on poliflied fapphires with 



* liquid gold. That b:oad bofom, ftained by the bright lotos of her foot,. 



* difplays a vefture of ruddy leaves over the tree of thy heart, which trem- 



* bies within it. 1 he prefliire of her lip on thine wounds me to the foul* 

 ' Ah I how canft thou aflert, that we are one, fince our fenfations differ 



* thus widely? Thy foul, O dark-limbed God, mows its blacknef> exter- 

 < nally. How couldft thou deceive a girl, who relied on thse ■ a girl, who 



* burned in the fever of love ? Thou roveft in woods, and females are thy 



* prty: what wonder? Even thy childifh heart was malignant; and thou 

 ' ga>eft death to the nurfe, who would have given thee milk. Since thy 

 ' tendernefs for me, of which thefe forefts ufed to talk, has now vanifhed, 

 « and fince thy breaft, reddened by the feet of my rival, glows as if thy ar- 

 1 dent paffion for her were burfting from it, the fight of thee, O deceiver*, 



* makes me (ah! muft I fay it?) blufh at my own affection/ 



Having thus inveighed againft her beloved, Hie fat overwhelmed ire 

 grief, and filently meditated on his charms ; when her damfel foftly addref- 

 itd. her. 



* He is gone : the light air has wafted him away. What pleafure now, 

 ' my beloved, remains in thy manfion? Continue not , refentf id woman, thy 

 ' indignation againft the beaut 'iful Ma'dhav a. Why mouldft thou render 



* vain thofe round fmooth vafes, ample and ripe as the fweet fruit of yon 



* 7Vz/j-tree? How often and how recently have I faid : " forfake not the 



* blooming H. ri?" Why ntteft thou fo mournful? Why weepeft thou 



* with diftra&ion, when the damfels are laughing around thee ? Thou haft 



