Page:TheBirth of the War-God.djvu/71

Fled the false shame that yet had lingered there,
And Love and Wedlock beamed divinely fair.

On through the Heaven, o'er tracts of swordlike blue,
Towards the gay City, swift as thought, they flew, —
Bright with high domes and palaces most fair,
As if proud Alaka were planted there,
Or Paradise poured forth, in showers that bless.
The rich o'erflowings of its loveliness.
Round lofty towers adorned with gems and gold
Her guardian stream the holy Ganga rolled;
On every side, the rampant's glowing crown,
Bright wreaths of fragrant flowers hung waving down,—
Flowers that might tempt the Maids of heavenly birth
To linger fondly o'er that pride of earth.
Their noble Elephants, unmoved by fear,
The distant roaring of the Lions hear;
In beauty peerless, and unmatched in speed,
Their thousand coursers of celestial breed;
Through their broad streets bright Sylphs and Minstrels rove,
Their dames are Goddesses of stream and grove.
Hark! the drum echoes louder and more loud
From glittering halls whose spires are wrapt in cloud—
It were the thunder, but that voice of fear
Falls not in measured time upon the ear.
'Tis balmy cool, for many a heavenly tree,
With quivering leaves and branches waving free,
Sheds a delightful freshness through the air—
Fans which no toil of man has stationed there.
The crystal chambers where they feast at night
Flash back the beamings of the starry light,—