n
As once on earth, in heavenly unity.

And sometimes seek the grave where Love is lying;
Pause there a moment, gentle Spring, and shower
Sweet mango-clusters to the winds replying;
For he thou lovedst, loved the mango-flower."

As Charm prepared to end her mortal pain
In fire, she heard a voice from heaven cry,
That showed her mercy, as the early rain
Shows mercy to the fish, when lakes go dry:

"O wife of Love! Thy lover is not lost
For evermore. This voice shall tell thee why
He perished like the moth, when he had crossed
The dreadful god, in fire from Shiva's eye.

When darts of Love set Brahma in a flame,
To shame his daughter with impure desire,
He checked the horrid sin without a name,
And cursed the god of love to die by fire.

But Virtue interceded in behalf
Of Love, and won a softening of the doom:
'Upon the day when Shiva's heart shall laugh
In wedding joy, for mercy finding room,

He shall unite Love's body with the soul,
A marriage-present to his mountain bride.'
As clouds hold fire and water in control,
Gods are the fount of wrath, and grace beside.

So, gentle Charm, preserve thy body sweet
For dear reunion after present pain;
The stream that dwindles in the summer heat,
Is reunited with the autumn rain."

Invisibly and thus mysteriously
The thoughts of Charm were turned away from death;
And Spring, believing where he might not see,
Comforted her with words of sweetest breath.

The wife of Love awaited thus the day,
Though racked by grief, when fate should show its power,
As the waning moon laments her darkened ray
And waits impatient for the twilight hour.

_Fifth canto. The reward of self-denial_.--Parvati reproaches her own
beauty, for "loveliness is fruitless if it does not bind a lover." She
therefore resolves to lead a life of religious self-denial, hoping
that the merit thus acquired will procure her Shiva's love. Her mother
tries in vain to dissuade her; her father directs her to a fit
mountain peak, and she retires to her devotions. She lays aside all
ornaments, lets her hair hang unkempt, and assumes the hermit's dress
of bark. While she is spending her days in self-denial, she is visited
by a Brahman youth, who compliments her highly upon her rigid
devotion, and declares that her conduct proves the truth of the
proverb: Beauty can do no wrong. Yet he confesses h