Behold the beauties of the universe,
  His wife, his children, and those dear to him,
  But straightway feels the precious gift withdrawn;
  Or as a lonely bird that unawares
  Has wandered far into the deep blue sea
  Finds nothing but a wat’ry waste all round,
  And knows not where to rest its wearied limbs,
  But at a distance kens at last a ship
  To which with doubled speed it flies and flies,
  And there discerns a seaman with his bow
  Preventing it from sitting on the mast—­
  So Rudra felt.  “Is this my wife?” he thought. 
  “Yes, by the mole upon her cheek she is;
  And beauty, spite of age, still lingers on
  Her face, and this fair youth, attracted by
  Her charms, came here.  Why hast Thou brought me home,
  O God! why was I not drowned in the sea? 
  Why did I leave that distant country where
  These twenty years I toiled for bread and lived? 
  And why was I not spared this ghastly sight? 
  No, Rati! never would thy husband bear
  To see thee lying with another man. 
  First he will kill you both, then die himself.” 
  So saying, from a sheath a blade he drew,
  When lo! there fell the piece of a palm leaf
  Whereon were writ—­think well before you do. 
  “This is,” he said, “my father’s dying gift;
  By the advice here giv’n I will abide,”
  Then woke his wife, and in firm tones thus asked,
  “Who is this youth that has defiled my bed? 
  Speak ere I strike you both.”  The wond’ring wife
  The dagger and the stranger saw and cried—­
  “Kill me alone, but spare my only son.” 
  “Thy only son!” he said; “now wake him up,
  And let us all adore our Maker first,
  Who saved us from my frenzy, which in one
  Short moment would have shattered all our bliss.”

THE STORY OF THE ROYAL HUNTRESS.

  It was a land of plenty and of wealth;
  There God’s indulgent hand made for a race
  Supremely blest a paradise on earth. 
  A land of virtue, truth, and charity,
  Where nature’s choicest treasures man enjoyed
  With little toil, where youth respected age,
  Where each his neighbour’s wife his sister deemed,
  Where side by side the tiger and the lamb
  The water drank, and sported oft in mirth. 
  A land where each man deemed him highly blest
  When he relieved the miseries of the poor,
  When to his roof the wearied traveller came
  To share his proffered bounty with good cheer. 
  Such was the far-famed land of Panchala.

  Here reigned a king who walked in virtue’s path,
  Who ruled his country only for his God. 
  His people’s good he deemed his only care,
  Their sorrows were his sorrows, and their joys
  He counted as his own; such was the king
  Whose daily prayers went up to Him on high
  For wisdom and for strength to rule his men
  Aright, and guard the land from foreign foes. 
  Such was the far-famed king of Panchala.