110 
F. S. Growse —Mathura Notes. 
[No. 2, 
My Love is dearer to me than body, soul, or life ; and my Love would lose 
a thousand lives for me. Rejoice, Sri Hit Hari Vans ! the loving pair, one 
dark, one fair, are like two cygnets; tell me who can separate wave from 
water ? # 
II. “ 0 my Beloved, has the fair spoken ? this is surely a beautiful 
night; the lightning is folded in the lusty cloud’s embrace. 0 friend, 
where is the woman who could quarrel with so exquisite a prince of 
gallants ? Rejoice, Sri Hit Hari Vans ! dear Radhika hearkened with her 
ears and with voluptuous emotion joined in love’s delights.f 
III. “ At day-break the wanton pair, crowned with victory in love’s 
conflict, were all exuberant. On her face are frequent beads of labour’s dew, 
and all the adornments of her person are in disarray, the paint-spot on her 
brow is all but effaced by heat, and the straggling curls upon her lotus face 
resemble roaming bees. (Rejoice, Sri Hit Hari Vans !) her eyes are red 
with love’s colours and her voice and loins feeble and relaxed. 
IV. u Your face, fair dame, to-day is full of joy, betokening your 
happiness and delight in the intercourse with your Beloved. Your voice 
is languid and tremulous, your cheeks aflame, and both your weary eyes are 
red with sleeplessness ; your pretty tilak half effaced, the flowers on your 
head faded, and the parting of your hair as if you had never made it at all. 
The Bountiful one of his grace refused you no boon, as you coyly took the 
hem of your robe between your teeth. Why shrink away so demurely ? 
you have changed clothes with your Beloved, and the dark-hued swain has 
subdued you as completely as though he had been tutored by a hundred 
Loves. The garland on his breast is faded, the clasp of his waist-belt loose 
(Rejoice, Sri Hit Hari Vans !) as he comes from his couch in the bower. 
Y. “ To-day at dawn there was a shower of rapture in the bower, where 
the happy pair were delighting themselves, one dark, one fair, bright with 
all gay colours, as she tripped with dainty foot upon the floor. Great 
Syam, the glorious lord of love, had his flower wreath stained with the 
saffron dye of her breasts, and was embellished with the scratches of his 
darling’s nails ; she too was marked by the hands of her jewel of lovers. 
The happy pair in an ecstasy of affection make sweet song, stealing each 
other’s heart (Rejoice, Sri Hit Hari Vans !) the bard is fain to praise, but the 
drone of a bee is as good as his ineffectual rhyme. 
* That is to say : it is nothing strange that Radha and Krishna should take such 
mutual delight in one another, since they are in fact one and are as inseparable as a 
wave and the water of which the wave is composed. 
f The first line is a question put to Krishna by one of Radha’s maids, asking him 
if her mistress had promised him an interview. The second line is a remark which she 
turns and makes to one of her own companions, 
