5. Close following his dead son, Kehama came, Nor calling the dear name; With head deprest and funeral vest, Silent and lost in thought he moves along. King of the World, his slaves unenvying now Behold their wretched Lord; rejoiced they see The mighty Rajah's misery; That Nature in his pride hath dealt the blow, And taught the Master of Mankind to know Even he himself is man, and not exempt from woe. 6. O sight of grief! the wives of Arvalan, With gold and jewels bright, With symphony, and dance, and song, The clarions' stirring breath Lifts their thin robes in every flowing fold, That on the agitated air Flutters and glitters to the torch's glare. 7. A man and maid of aspect wan and wild, Then, side by side, by bowmen guarded, came ; O wretched father! O unhappy child! Them were all eyes of all the throng exploring. Is this the daring man Who raised his fatal hand at Arvalan? ... Then were all hearts of all the throng deploring; For not in that innumerable throng Was one who loved the dead; for who could know What aggravated wrong Provoked the desperate blow! 8. Far, far behind, beyond all reach of sight, Rolls on the undistinguishable clamour, Of streams which down the wintry mountain pour, Of breakers on a rocky shore, 9. And now toward the bank they go, Where winding on their way below, Deep and strong the waters flow. Here doth the funeral pile appear With myrrh and ambergris bestrew'd, And built of precious sandal wood. They cease their music and their outcry here, Gently they rest the bier; They wet the face of Arvalan, No sign of life the sprinkled drops excite; They feel his breast, no motion there; They feel his lips, . ... ... no breath; For not with feeble, nor with erring hand, The brave avenger dealt the blow of death. Then with a doubling peal and deeper blast, The tambours and the trumpets sound on high, And with a last and loudest cry They call on Arvalan. 10. Woe! woe! for Azla takes her seat Upon the funeral pile! Calmly she took her seat, Calmly the whole terrific pomp survey'd ; As on her lap the while The lifeless head of Arvalan was laid. They strip her ornaments away, Bracelet and anklet, ring, and chain, and zone; The marriage knot alone, Then with white flowers, the coronal of death, 12. O sight of misery! You cannot hear her cries, ... their sound The supplication and the agony,... Towards the crowd in vain for pity spread,... They force her on, they bind her to the dead. 13. Then all around retire; Circling the pile, the ministring Bramins stand, Each lifting in his hand a torch on fire. Alone the Father of the dead advanced And lit the funeral pyre. 14. At once on every side At once on every side Then hand in hand the victim band Float inward to the fire; In drunken whirl they wheel around; While round and round, in giddy wheel, Till one by one whirl'd in they fall, 15. Then all was still; the drums and clarions ceased The multitude were hush'd in silent awe; ; |