Sacred Texts  Hinduism  Index  Previous  Next    He looked upon
the burning waste, Then sought the queen in joyous haste, With
words of hope consoled her heart, And made him ready to depart.
p. 425  He sealed Arishta's glorious steep Whose summits beetled
o'er the deep. The woods in varied beauty dressed Hung like a
garland round his crest, And clouds of ever changing hue A robe
about his shoulders threw. On him the rays of morning fell To
wake the hill they loved so well, And bid unclose those splendid
eyes That glittered in his mineral dyes. He woke to hear the
music made By thunders of the white cascade, While every
laughing rill that sprang From crag to crag its carol sang. For
arms, he lifted to the stars His towering stems of Deodárs, And
morning heard his pealing call In tumbling brook and waterfall.
He trembled when his woods were pale And bowed beneath the
autumn gale, And when his vocal reeds were stirred His
melancholy moan was heard.   Far down against the mountain's
feet The Vánar heard the wild