from distant desert Tartar steppes,
Ewe-necked, ill-favored creatures, lank and gaunt,
That made the people laugh as they passed by--
Who ceased to laugh when they had run the race--
Such horses bore the mighty Mongol hosts[16]
That with the cyclone's speed swept o'er the earth;
Then three, one gray, one bay, one glossy black,
Descended from four horses long since brought
By love-sick chief from Araby the blest,
Seeking with such rare gifts an Indian bride,
Whose slender, graceful forms, compact and light,
Combined endurance, beauty, strength and speed--
A wondrous breed, whose famed descendants bore
The Moslem hosts that swept from off the earth
Thy mighty power, corrupt, declining Rome,
And with each other now alone contend
In speed, whose sons cast out, abused and starved,
Alone can save from raging whirlwind flames[17]
That all-devouring sweep our western plains;
Then stately elephants came next in line,
With measured step and gently swaying gait,
Covered with cloth of gold richly inwrought,
Each bearing in a howdah gaily decked
A fair competitor for beauty's prize,
With merry comrades and some sober friend;
The vina, bansuli, sitar and harp
Filling the air with sweetest melody,
While rippling laughter from each howdah rang,
And sweetest odors, as from op'ning flowers,
Breathed from their rich apparel as they passed.

And thus they circle round the maidan wide,
And as they pass along the people shout,
"Long live the king! long live our noble prince!"
To all which glad acclaims the prince responds
With heartfelt courtesy and royal grace.

When they had nearly reached the palace gate
On their return, the king drew to the right
With his attendants, while the prince with his
Drew to the left, reviewing all the line
That passed again down to the judges' seat,
Under the king's pavilion near the lake.
The prince eagerly watched them as they passed,
Noting their brawny limbs and polished arms,
The pose and skill of every charioteer,
The parts and varied breed of every horse,
Aiding his comrades with his deeper skill.
But when the queens of beauty passed him by,
He was all smiles and gallantry and grace,
Until the last, Yasodhara, came near,
Whose laugh was clearest of the merry crowd,
Whose golden hair imprisoned sunlight seemed,
Whose cheek, blending the lily with the rose,
Spoke of more northern skies a