Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey

by Robert Southey

  Loud and distinct, as from a hill

  Across a lonely vale, when all is still,

  Within the temple, on his golden throne

  Reclin’d, Kehama lies,

  Watching with steady eyes

  The perfum’d light that, burning bright,

  Metes out the passing hours.

  On either hand his eunuchs stand,

  Freshening with fans of peacock-plumes the air,

  Which, redolent of all rich gums and flowers,

  Seems, overcharged with sweets, to stagnate there.

  Lo! the time-taper’s flame ascending slow

  Creeps up its coil toward the fated line;

  Kehama rises and goes forth,

  And from the altar, ready where it lies,

  He takes the axe of sacrifice.-

  8.

  That instant from the crowd, with sudden shout,

  A man sprang out

  To lay upon the Steed his hand profane.

  A thousand archers, with unerring eye,

  At once let fly,

  And with their hurtling arrows fill the sky.

  In vain they fall upon him fast as rain;

  He bears a charmed life, which may defy

  All weapons,... and the darts that whizz around,

  As from an adamantine panoply

  Repell’d, fall idly to the ground.

  Kehama clasp’d his hands in agony,

  And saw him grasp the hallowed courser’s mane,

  Spring up with sudden bound,

  And with a frantic cry,

  And madman’s gesture, gallop round and round.

  9.

  They seize, they drag him to the Rajah’s feet.

  What doom will now be his,.. what vengeance meet

  Will he, who knows no mercy, now require?

  The obsequious guards around, with blood-hound eye,

  Look for the word, in slow-consuming fire,

  By piece-meal death, to make the wretch expire,

  Or hoist his living carcase, hook’d on high,

  To feed the fowls and insects of the sky;

  Or if aught worse inventive cruelty

  To that remorseless heart of royalty

  Might prompt, accursed instruments they stand

  To work the wicked will with wicked hand.

  Far other thoughts were in the multitude;

  Pity, and human feelings, held them still;

  And stifled sighs and groans supprest were there,

  And many a secret curse and inward prayer

  Call’d on the insulted Gods to save mankind.

  Expecting some new crime in fear they stood,

  Some horror which would make the natural blood

  Start, with cold shudderings thrill the sinking heart,

  Whiten the lip, and make the abhorrent eye

  Roll back and close, prest in for agony.

  10.

  How then fared he for whom the mighty crowd

  Suffered in spirit thus,... how then fared he?

  A ghastly smile was on his lip, his eye

  Glared with a ghastly hope, as he drew nigh,

  And cried aloud, Yes, Rajah! it is I!

  And wilt thou kill me now? —

  The countenance of the Almighty Man

  Fell when he knew Ladurlad, and his brow

  Was clouded with despite, as one ashamed.

  That wretch again! indignant he exclaim’d,

  And smote his forehead, and stood silently

  Awhile in wrath: then, with ferocious smile,

  And eyes which seem’d to darken his dark cheek,

  Let him go free! he cried; he hath his Curse,

  And Vengeance upon him can wreak no worse...

  But ye who did not seize him... tremble ye!

  11.

  He bade the archers pile their weapons there r

  No manly courage fill’d the slavish band,

  No sweetening vengeance rous’d a brave despair.

  He call’d his horsemen then, and gave command

  To hem the offenders in, and hew them down.

  Ten thousand scymitars at once uprear’d,

  Flash up, like waters sparkling to the sun;

  A second time the fatal brands appear’d

  Lifted aloft,... they glitter’d then no more,

  Their light was gone, their splendour quench’d in gore.

  At noon the massacre begun,

  And night clos’d in before the work of death was done.

  IX. THE HOME-SCENE.

  1.

  The steam of slaughter from that place of blood

  Spread o’er the tainted sky.

  Vultures, for whom the Rajah’s tyranny

  So oft had furnish’d food, from far and nigh

  Sped to the lure: aloft with joyful cry,

  Wheeling around, they hover’d over head;

  Or, on the temple perch’d, with greedy eye,

  Impatient watch’d the dead.

  Far off the tygers, in the inmost wood,

  Heard the death-shriek, and snuff’d the scent of blood.

  They rose, and through the covert went their way,

  Couch’d at the forest edge, and waited for their prey.

  2.

  He who had sought for death went wandering on,

  The hope which had inspir’d his heart was gone,

  Yet a wild joyance still inflam’d his face,

  A smile of vengeance, a triumphant glow.

  Where goes he?... Whither should Ladurlad go!

  Unwittingly the wretch’s footsteps trace

  Their wonted path toward his dwelling-place;

  And wandering on, unknowing where,

  He starts at finding he is there.

  3.

  Behold his lowly home,

  By yonder broad-bough’d plane o’ershaded:

  There Marriataly’s image stands,

  And there the garland twin’d by Kailyal’s hands

  Around its brow hath faded.

  The Peacocks, at their master’s sight,

  Quick from the leafy thatch alight,

  And hurry round, and search the ground,

  And veer their glancing necks from side to side,

  ‘ Expecting from his hand

  Their daily dole, which erst the maid supplied,

  Now all too long denied.

  4.

  But as he gaz’d around,

  How strange did all accustom’d sights appear!

  How differently did each familiar sound

  Assail his altered ear!

  Here stood the marriage bower,

  Rear’d in that happy hour

  When he, with festal joy and youthful pride,

  Had brought Yedillian home, his beauteous bride.

  Leaves not its own, and many a borrowed flower,

  Had then bedeck’d it, withering ere the night;

  But he who look’d, from that auspicious day,

  For years of long delight,

  And would not see the marriage-bower decay,

  There planted and nurst up, with daily care,

  The sweetest herbs that scent the ambient air,

  And train’d them round to live and flourish there.

  Nor when dread Yamen’s will

  Had call’d Yedillian from his arms away,

  Ceas’d he to tend the marriage-bower, but still,

  Sorrowing, had drest it like a pious rite

  Due to the monument of past delight.

  5.

  He took his wonted seat before the door,...

  Even as of yore,

  When he was wont to view, with placid eyes,

  His daughter at her evening sacrifice.

  Here were the flowers which she so carefully

  Did love to rear for Marriataly’s brow;

  Neglected now,

  Their heavy heads were drooping, over-blown:

  All else appeared the same as heretofore,

  All... save
himself alone; —

  How happy then,... and now a wretch for evermore!

  6.

  The market-flag which hoisted high,

  From far and nigh,

  Above yon cocoa grove is seen,

  Hangs motionless amid the sultry sky.

  Loud sounds the village-drum: a happy crowd

  Is there; Ladurlad hears their distant voices,

  But with their joy no more his heart rejoices;

  And how their old companion now may fare,

  Little they know, and less they care.

  The torment he is doom’d to bear.

  Was but to them the wonder of a day,

  A burthen of sad thoughts soon put away.

  7.

  They knew not that the wretched man was near,

  And yet it seem’d, to his distemper’d ear,

  As if they wrong’d him with their merriment.

  Resentfully he turn’d away his eyes,

  Yet turn’d them but to find

  Sights that enraged his mind

  With envious grief more wild and overpowering.

  The tank which fed his fields was there, and there

  The large-leav’d lotus on the waters flowering.

  There, from the intolerable heat,

  The buffaloes retreat;

  Only their nostrils rais’d to meet the air,

  Amid the sheltering element they rest.

  Impatient of the sight, he clos’d his eyes,

  And bow’d his burning head, and in despair

  Calling on Indra,...Thunder-God! he said,

  Thou owest to me alone this day thy throne,

  Be grateful, and in mercy strike me dead!

  8.

  Despair had rous’d him to that hopeless prayer,

  Yet thinking on the heavenly Powers, his mind

  Drew comfort; and he rose and gather’d flowers,

  And twin’d a crown for Marriataly’s brow;

  And taking then her wither’d garland down,

  Replaced it with the blooming coronal.

  Not for myself, the unhappy Father cried,

  Not for myself, O mighty one! I pray,

  Accursed as I am beyond thy aid!

  But, oh! be gracious still to that dear Maid

  Who crown’d thee with these garlands day by day,

  And danced before thee aye at even-tide

  In beauty and in pride.

  O Marriataly, wheresoe’er she stray

  Forlorn and wretched, still be thou her guide!

  9.

  A loud and fiendish laugh replied,

  Scoffing his prayer. Aloft, as from the air,

  The sound of insult came: he look’d, and there

  The visage of dead Arvalan came forth,

  Only his face amid the clear blue sky,

  With long-drawn lips of insolent mockery,

  And eyes whose lurid glare

  Was like a sulphur fire,

  Mingling with darkness ere its flames expire.

  10.

  Ladurlad knew him well: enraged to see

  The cause of all his misery,

  He stoop’d and lifted from the ground

  A stake, whose fatal point was black with blood;

  The same wherewith his hand had dealt the wound,

  When Arvalan, in hour with evil fraught,

  For violation seiz’d the shrieking Maid.

  Thus arm’d, in act again to strike he stood,

  And twice with inefficient wrath essay’d

  To smite the impassive shade.

  The lips of scorn their mockery-laugh renew’d,

  And Arvalan put forth a hand and caught

  The sun-beam, and condensing there its light,

  Upon Ladurlad turn’d the burning stream.

  Vain cruelty! the stake

  Fell in white ashes from his hold, but he

  Endur’d no added pain; his agony

  Was full, and at the height;

  The burning stream of radiance nothing harm’d him:

  A fire was in his heart and brain,

  And from all other flame

  Kehama’s Curse had charm’d him.

  11.

  Anon the Spirit wav’d a second hand;

  Down rush’d the obedient whirlwind from the sky;

  Scoop’d up the sand like smoke, and from on high

  Shed the hot shower upon Ladurlad’s head.

  Where’er he turns, the accursed Hand is there;

  East, West, and North and South, on every side

  The Hand accursed waves in air to guide

  The dizzying storm; ears, nostrils, eyes and mouth,

  It fills and choaks, and, clogging every pore,

  Taught him new torments might be yet in store.

  Where shall he turn to fly? behold his house

  In flames; uprooted lies the marriage-bower,

  The Goddess buried by the sandy shower,

  Blindly, with staggering step, he reels about,

  And still the accursed Hand pursued,

  And still the lips of scorn their mockery laugh renew’d.

  12.

  What, Arvalan! hast thou so soon forgot

  The grasp of Pollear? Wilt thou still defy

  The righteous Powers of Heaven? or know’st thou not

  That there are yet superior Powers on high,

  Son of the Wicked?... Lo, in rapid flight,

  Ereenia hastens from the etherial height;

  Bright is the sword celestial in his hand,

  Like lightning in its path athwart the sky.

  He comes and drives, with angel-arm, the blow.

  Oft have the Asuras, in the wars of Heaven,

  Felt that keen sword by arm angelic driven,

  And fled before it from the fields of light.

  Thrice through the vulnerable shade

  The Glendoveer impels the griding blade.

  The wicked Shade flies howling from his foe.

  So let that spirit foul

  Fly, and for impotence of anger, howl,

  Writhing with pain, and o’er his wounds deplore;

  Worse punishment hath Arvalan deserv’d,

  And righteous Fate hath heavier doom in store.

  13.

  Not now the Glendoveer pursued his flight.

  He bade the Ship of Heaven alight,

  And gently there he laid

  The astonished Father by the happy Maid,

  The Maid now shedding tears of deep delight.

  Beholding all things with incredulous eyes,

  Still dizzy with the sand-storm, there he lay,

  While sailing up the skies, the living Bark,

  Through air and sunshine, held its heavenly way.

  X. MOUNT MERU.

  1.

  Swift through the sky the vessel of the Suras

  Sails up the fields of ether like an Angel.

  Rich is the freight, O Vessel, that thou bearest!

  Beauty and Virtue,

  Fatherly cares and filial veneration,

  Hearts which are prov’d and strengthen’d by affliction,

  Manly resentment, fortitude and action,

  Womanly goodness;....

  All with which Nature halloweth her daughters,

  Tenderness, truth and purity and meekness,

  Piety, patience, faith and resignation,

  Love and devotement.

  Ship of the Gods! how richly art thou laden!

  Proud of the charge, thou voyagest rejoicing.

  Clouds float around to honour thee, and Evening

  Lingers in heaven.

  2.

  A Stream descends on Meru mountain;

  None hath seen its secret fountain;

  It had its birth, so sages say,

  Upon the memorable day

  When Parvati presumed to lay,

  In wanton play,

  Her hands, too venturous Goddess in her mirth,

  On Seeva’s eyes, the ligh
t and life of Earth.

  Thereat the heart of the Universe stood still;

  The Elements ceas’d their influences; the Hours

  Stopt on the eternal round; Motion and Breath,

  Time, Change, and Life and Death,

  In sudden trance opprest, forgot their powers.

  A moment, and the dread eclipse was ended;

  But at the thought of Nature thus suspended,

  The sweat on Seeva’s forehead stood,

  And Ganges thence upon the World descended,

  The Holy River, the Redeeming Flood.

  3.

  None hath seen its secret fountain;

  But on the top of Meru mountain,

  Which rises o’er the hills of earth,

  In light and clouds it hath its mortal birth.

  Earth seems that pinnacle to rear

  Sublime above this worldly sphere,

  Its cradle, and its altar, and its throne;

  And there the new-born River lies

  Outspread beneath its native skies,

  As if it there would love to dwell

  Alone and unapproachable.

  Soon flowing forward, and resign’d

  To the will of the Creating Mind,

  It springs at once, with sudden leap,

  Down from the immeasurable steep.

  From rock to rock, with shivering force rebounding,

  The mighty cataract rushes; Heaven around,

  Like thunder, with the incessant roar resounding,

  And Meru’s summit shaking with the sound.

  Wide spreads the snowy foam, the sparkling spray

  Dances aloft; and ever there, at morning,

  The earliest sun-beams haste to wing their way,

  With rain-bow wreaths the holy flood adorning;

  And duly the adoring Moon at night

  Sheds her white glory there,

  And in the watery air

  Suspends her halo-crowns of silver light,

  4.

  A mountain-valley in its blessed breast

  Receives the stream, which there delights to lie,

  Untroubled and at rest,

  Beneath the untainted sky.

  There in a lovely lake it seems to sleep,

  And thence, through many a channel dark and deep,

  Their secret way the holy Waters wind,

  Till, rising underneath the root