[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Which twined about his wrist, whilst he did laugh
And tease the quick-forked tongue and opened mouth
Of that cold playmate. But, alas! ere long
He turned so pale still, I could not think
Why he should cease to play, and let my breast
Fall from his lips. And one said, He is sick
Of poison ; and another, He will die.
But I, who could not lose my precious boy,
Prayed of them physic, which might bring the light
Back to his eyes; it was so very small,
That kiss-mark of the serpent, and I think
It could not hate him, gracious as he was,
Nor hurt him in his sport. And some one said,
There is a holy man upon the hill
Lo! now he passeth in the yellow robe
Ask of the Rishi if there be a cure
For that which ails thy son. Whereon I came
Trembling to thee, whose brow is like a god s,
And wept and drew the face-cloth from my babe,
Praying thee tell what simples might be good.
115
And thou, great sir, did st spurn me not, but gaze
With gentle eyes and touch with patient hand;
Then draw the face cloth back, saying to me,
Yea, little sister, there is that might heal
Thee first, and him, if thou couldst fetch the thing;
For they who seek physicians bring to them
What is ordained. Therefore, I pray thee, find
Black mustard-seed,a tola; only mark
Thou take it not from any hand or house
Where father, mother, child, or slave hath died;
It shall be well if thou canst find such seed.
Thus didst thou speak, my Lord!
The Master smiled
Exceeding tenderly. Yea, I spake thus,
Dear Kisagtami! But didst thou find
The seed?
I went, Lord, clasping to my breast
The babe, grown colder, asking at each hut
Here in the jungle and towards the town
I pray you, give me mustard, of your grace,
A tola black ; and each who had it gave,
116
For all the poor are piteous to the poor;
But when I asked, In my friends s household here
Hath any peradventure ever died
Husband, or wife, or child, or slave? they said:
O Sister! what is this you ask? the dead
Are very many, and the living few!
So with sad thanks I gave the mustard back,
And prayed of others; but the others said,
Here is the seed, but we have lost our slave.
Here is the seed, but our good man is dead!
Here is some seed, but he that sowed it died
Between the rain-time and the harvesting!
Ah, sir I could not find a single house
Where there was mustard-seed and none had died!
Therefore I left child who would not suck
Nor smile beneath the wild-vines by the stream,
To seek thy face and kiss thy feet, and pray
Where I might find the seed and find no death,
If now, indeed, my baby be not dead,
As I do fear, and as they said to me.
My sister, thou hast found, the Master said,
Searching for what none finds that bitter balm
I had to give thee. He thou lovedst slept
117
Dead on thy bosom yesterday: to-day
Thou know st the whole wide world weeps with thy woe;
The grief which all hearts share grows less for one.
Lo! I would pour my blood if it could stay
Thy tears and win the secret of that curse
Which makes sweet love our anguish, and which drives
O er flowers and pastures to the sacrifice
As these dumb beasts are driven men their lords.
I seek that secret: bury thou thy child!
So entered they the city side by side,
The herdsmen and the Prince, what time the sun
Gilded slow Sona s distant stream, and threw
Long shadows down the street and through the gate
Where the King s men kept watch. But when they saw
Our Lord bearing the lamp, the guards stood back,
The market-people drew their wains aside,
In the bazaar buyers and sellers stayed
The war of tongues to gaze on that mild face;
The smith, with lifted hammer in his hand,
Forgot to strike; the weaver left his web,
The scribe his scroll, the money-changer lost
His count of cowries; from the unwatched rice
Shiva s white bull fed free; the wasted milk
118
Ran o er the lota while the milkers watched
The passage of our Lord moving so meek,
With yet so beautiful a majesty.
But most the women gathering in the doors
Asked: Who is this that brings the sacrifice,
So graceful and peace-giving as he goes?
What is his caste? whence hath he eyes so sweet?
Can he be Skra or the Devaraj?
And others said, It is the holy man
Who dwelleth with the Rishis on the hill.
But the Lord paced, in meditation lost,
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]