And loose thy jewelled girdle A little, that its rubies May tinkle softest music too, And whisper thou art near; Though now, if in the forest Thou should'st bend one blade of Kusha With silken touch of passing foot, His heart would know and hear; Would hear the wood-buds saying, "It is Radha's foot that passes;" Would hear the wind sigh love-sick, "It is Radha's fragrance, this;" Would hear thine own heart beating Within thy panting bosom, And know thee coming, coming, His--ever,--ever--his!
"_Mine_! "--hark! we are near enough for hearing-- "_Soon she will come--she will smile--she will say Honey-sweet words of heavenly endearing; O soul! listen; my Bride is on her way!_"
Hear'st him not, my Radha? Lo, night bendeth o'er thee-- Darker than dark Tamâla-leaves-- To list thy marriage-song; Dark as the touchstone that tries gold, And see now--on before thee-- Those lines of tender light that creep The clouded sky along: O night! that trieth gold of love, This love is proven perfect! O lines that streak the touchstone sky, Plash forth true shining gold! O rose-leaf feet, go boldly! O night!--that lovest lovers-- Thy softest robe of silence About these bridals fold!
See'st thou not, my Radha? Lo, the night, thy bridesmaid, Comes!--her eyes thick-painted With soorma of the gloom-- The night that binds the planet-worlds For jewels on her forehead, And for emblem and for garland Loves the blue-black lotus-bloom; The night that scents her breath so sweet With cool and musky odours, That joys to spread her veil of shade Over the limbs of love;
And when, with loving weary, Yet dreaming love, they slumber, Sets the far stars for silver lamps To light them from above.
So came she where he stood, awaiting her At the bower's entry, like a god to see, With marriage-gladness and the grace of heaven. The great pearl set upon his glorious head Shone like a moon among the leaves, and shone Like stars the gems that kept her gold gown close: But still a little while she paused--abashed At her delight, of her deep joy afraid-- And they that tended her sang once more this:
(_What follows is to the Music_ VARÂDI _and the Mode_ RUPAKA.)
Enter, thrice-happy! enter, thrice-desired! And let the gates of Hari shut thee in With the soul destined to thee from of old.
