Page:TheBirth of the War-God.djvu/69

When Káma's spirit that had swooned in fear
Breathed once again and deemed foro-iveness near.

The ancient Sages reverently adored
The World's great Father and its Sovran Lord,
And while a soft ecstatic thrilling ran
O'er their celestial frames, they thus began:—
"Glorious the fruit our Holy Studies bear,
Our constant Penance, Sacrifice and Prayer,
For that high place within thy thoughts we gain
Which fancy strives to reach, but longs in vain!
How blest is he, the glory of the Wise,
Deep in whose thoughtful breast thy Godhead lies!
But who may tell his joy who rests enshrined,
O Brahma's great Creator, in thy mind!
We dwell on high above the cold Moon's ray,
Beneath our mansion glows the God of Day,
But now thy favour lends us brighter beams.
Blest with thy love our Star unchanging gleams.
How should we tell what soul-entrancing bliss
Enthrals our spirit at an hour like this?
Great Lord of All, thou Soul of Life indwelling
We crave one word thy wondrous nature telling —
Though to our eyes thy outward form be shown.
How can we know thee as thou shouldst be known?
In this thy present shape, we pray thee, say
Dost thou create? dost thou preserve or slay?
But speak thy wish; called from our starry rest
We wait, O Siva, for our Lord's behest."

Then answered thus that Sovran Lord—the while
Flashed from his dazzling teeth so white a smile,