132 F. S. Grows ©—Mathura Notes. [No. 2, 
of nectar on the soul for the beatification of the pious, a store-house of all 
that is divine. 
9. When shall I hear the voice of blessed Radha, that fountain of 
delights, crying ‘ Nay, nay,’ with knitted brows, as some gallant suitor, fallen 
at her feet, begs for the rapturous joy of her embrace ? 
10. When, oh when will Radhika shew me favour, that incarnation of 
the fullness of the ocean of perfect love, the marvellous glory of the glis¬ 
tening splendour of whose lotus feet was seen among the herdsmen’s 
wives ? 
11. When shall I attain to the blissful vision of the goddess of the 
blooming bowers of the woods of Brindaban, her eyes all tremulous with 
love, and the different members of her body like the waves of an overflow¬ 
ing ocean of delight P 
12. O queen of Brindaban, I betake me to thy lotus feet, fraught 
with the honeyed flood of love’s ambrosia, which, planted in Madhu-pati’s 
heart, assuaged by their grateful coolness the fierce fever of desire. 
13. Fain would my soul loiter in the woods sacred to Radha’s loves, 
where the sprays of the creepers have been plucked by Radha’s hands, where 
the fragrant soil blossoms with Radha’s footprints, and where the frequent 
birds are madly garrulous with Radha’s praises. 
14. When, 0 daughter of Vrisha-bhanu, shall I experience the con¬ 
ceit induced by excess of voluptuous dalliance, I your handmaid, charged 
with the message, ‘ Come and enjoy Krishna’s dainties,’ and answered with 
the smile, ‘ Only stay, friend, till night comes.’ 
15. Ah ! when shall I behold Radha, with downcast eyes, bashfully 
stealing a distant glance at the moon-like orb of the face of the lord of 
lovers, as she trips with twinkling feet, all graceful in her movements, to 
the music of her own bangles ? 
16. When, 0 Radha, will you fall asleep, while my hands caress your 
feet, after I have tenderly bathed you and fed you with sweet things, 
wearied with your vigil through a night of dalliance, in the inmost bower, 
in the delicious embrace of your paragon of lovers P 
17. O that the ocean of wit, the singular ocean of love’s delights, the 
ocean of tenderness, the ocean of exuberant pitifulness, the ocean of love¬ 
liness, the ocean of ambrosial beauty and grace, the ocean of wantonness, 
blessed Radhika, would manifest herself in my soul! 
18. O that the daughter of Vrisha-bhanu, looking up all tremulous 
and glistening in every limb like the flowering champ a, would clasp me in 
her arms, charmed by my chanted praises of Syam-sundar, as she listens for 
the sound of his pipe ! 
19. Blessed Radhika, cool me with the multiplicity of love, that 
breathes in the swan-like melody of the girdle that binds your loins red- 
