1861 .] 
Indian Idylls , Wo. I. 
115 
With his dear mother’s eyes and face divine, 
A second self to ornament his line ! 
One hope is left, to seek the hermit’s cell, 
And to his holy guide Vasishtha, tell 
The longing of his soul : his ancient friend 
May give some counsel that his grief may end. 
To chosen ministers lie trusts the weight 
Of all his royal sway, and cares of state. 
To God, the great Creator, first he pays 
His humble worship, and for offspring prays, 
Then with the queen ascends his car, that tells 
His coming with the music of its hells. 
Have ye ne’er seen an elephant on high 
Horne on his cloudy chariot through the sky ? 
Have ye ne’er seen the flashing lightning ride, 
In sportive beauty, by the monster’s side ? 
So seemed it now : so tall and strong was he ; 
So bright, so dazzling in her beauty, she. 
Few are their guards : a thousand trampling feet 
Would mar the quiet of the Saint’s retreat ; 
Hut yet a circling host seems ever there, 
For such divinity doth hedge that pair. 
Fresh on their cheeks the soft wind gently comes. 
Wafting the perfume of a thousand gums, 
And, heavy with the pollen of bright llowers, 
Waves the young branches of the Mango bowers. 
They hear the peacock’s joyous cry ; his head 
Lifted in wonder at the coursers’ tread. 
They watch the cranes in jubilant armies fly, 
Crowning, like flowers, the portals of the sky. 
From shady coverts by the way the deer 
Throw startled glances when the car is near, 
Then, as they gaze, the king with pride compares 
His soft-eyed lady’s tender look with theirs. 
A friendly wind attends them on their way, 
And augurs fortune ere the close of day : 
No dust may fall upon the lady’s dress, 
Stain her soft cheek, or dim one shining tress, 
Q 
