18 ( 51 .] 
Indian Idylls, No. 1. 
With reverent steps the lady round her passed 
And from a bowl parched grain in worship cast ; 
Then paid due honour to her spacious brow, 
That door to lead the lady to her vow. 
Though yearning for her young, the Cow stood still 
Delighted with the worship, while a thrill 
Of hopeful joy ran through each royal breast : 
Such marks of favour show their vow is blest. 
The King, with hands whose might no foe could meet, 
Gently embraced his ancient Teacher’s feet, 
Performed the evening rites, and turned to pay 
The holy Cow fresh homage where she lay. 
His thoughtful care her every want supplied ; 
He placed a lamp and fodder by her side, 
And, when she lay upon her grassy bed, 
He on his lady’s breast reposed his head ; 
When the Cow slept, he bade his eyelids close ; 
When she had risen, from his couch arose. 
Thus toiling still upon his vow intent, 
Thrice seven long days the anxious monarch spent. 
There was a grass-hid cavern, dark and deep, 
Where Ganga thunders down Himalaya’s steep ; 
The Cow had entered, but her guardian still 
Looked, lost in wonder, on the glorious hill, 
Nor feared for her : no heast would dare to spring, 
Even in thought, on so divine a thing. 
Suddenly,- lurking in the cavern’s shade, 
A lion seized her, and her cries for aid 
Drew the King’s wondering eyes. With grief and awe 
The monster standing o’er the Cow he saw, 
Like a red Lodhra tree whose limbs surround 
The ore-rich summit of a lofty mound. 
He seized an arrow, and his bright nails shed 
O’er its white feathers gleams of rosy red. 
Why doth he linger ? What resistless charm 
Checks his bold hand, and binds his eager arm r 
He stood as in a picture, and his bow 
Availed him nothing though so near the foe ; 
