Page:The Indian Song of Songs - tr. Arnold - 1875.djvu/25

Merciful-hearted! when thou camest as Boodh—
Albeit 'twas written in the Scriptures so—
Thou bad'st our altars be no more imbrued
With blood of victims: Keshav! bending low

We praise thee, Wielder of the sweeping sword,
Brilliant as curving comets in the gloom,
Whose keen edge smote the fierce barbarian horde;
Hail to thee, Keshav! hail, and hear, and come,

And fill this song of Jayadev with thee,
And make it wise to teach, strong to redeem,
And sweet to living souls. Thou Mystery!
Thou Light of Life! Thou Dawn beyond the dream!

 

Fish that didst outswim the flood;
Tortoise! whereon earth hath stood;
Boar! who with thy tush held'st high
The world, that mortals might not die;
Lion! who hast giants torn;
Dwarf who laugh'dst a king to scorn;
Sole Subduer of the Dreaded!
Slayer of the many-headed!