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THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
Flashes forth in dazzling light
From the Great Snake's gems repeated:
Hari keep you! He whose graces,
Manifold in majesty,—
Multiplied in heavenly places—
Multiply on earth—to see
Better with a hundred eyes
Her bright charms who by him lies.
What skill may be in singing,
What worship sound in song,
What lore be taught in loving,
What right divined from wrong:
Such things hath Jayadeva—
In this his Hymn of Love,
Which lauds Govinda ever,—
Displayed; may all approve!
From the Great Snake's gems repeated:
Hari keep you! He whose graces,
Manifold in majesty,—
Multiplied in heavenly places—
Multiply on earth—to see
Better with a hundred eyes
Her bright charms who by him lies.
What skill may be in singing,
What worship sound in song,
What lore be taught in loving,
What right divined from wrong:
Such things hath Jayadeva—
In this his Hymn of Love,
Which lauds Govinda ever,—
Displayed; may all approve!
THE END OF THE INDIAN SONG OF SONGS.
