Page:TheBirth of the War-God.djvu/56

Grey elders came;—though young the Maid might seem,
Her perfect virtue must command esteem.
They found her resting in that lonely spot,
The fire was kindled, and no rite forgot;
In hermit's mantle was she clad;—her look
Fixt in deep thought upon the Holy Book.
So pure that grove—all war was made to cease.
And savage monsters lived in love and peace;
Pure was that grove—each newly built abode
Had leafy shrines where Fires of Worship glowed.

But far too mild her Penance, Uma thought,
To win from Heaven the lordly meed she sought;
She would not spare her form, so fair and frail,
If mightier Penance could perchance prevail.
Oft had sweet pastime wearied her, and yet
Fain would she match in toil the anchoret;
Sure the soft Lotus at her birth had lent
Dear Uma's form its gentle element;
But gold, commingled with her being, gave
That will so strong, so beautifully brave!
Full in the centre of four blazing piles
Sate the fair Lady of the winning smiles,
While on her head the mighty God of Day
Shot all the fury of his summer ray;
Yet her fixt gaze she turned upon the skies,
And quenched his splendour with her brighter eyes.
To that sweet face, though scorched by rays from heaven,
Still was the beauty of the Lotus given,
Yet, worn by watching, round those orbs of light
A blackness gathered like the shades of night.