"SHE JOGADHYA UMA HELL BRACELETS, ho! Shell bracelets, ho! The peddler raised his wonted cry. That floated in dun coils profound, Till by the sudden sunbeams kist, Rich rainbow hues broke all around. "Shell bracelets, ho! Shell bracelets, ho!" The roadside trees still dripped with dew And hung their blossoms like a show. Who heard the cry? 'Twas but a few; A ragged herd-boy, here and there, With his long stick and naked feet; A plowman wending to his care, The field from which he hopes the wheat; An early traveler, hurrying fast To the next town; an urchin slow Bound for the school; these heard and passed, Pellucid spread a lake-like tank Beside the road now lonelier still; High on three sides arose the bank Which fruit-trees shadowed at their will; Upon the fourth side was the ghat, With its broad stairs of marble white, And at the entrance arch there sat, Full face against the morning light, A fair young woman with large eyes, And dark hair falling to her zone; She heard the peddler's cry arise, And eager seemed his ware to own. "Shell bracelets, ho! See, maiden, see! The rich enamel, sunbeam-kist! 5077 Happy, oh happy, shalt thou be, Let them but clasp that slender wrist; These bracelets are a mighty charm; They keep a lover ever true, And widowhood avert, and harm. Buy them, and thou shalt never rue. Just try them on!" She stretched her hand. "Oh, what a nice and lovely fit! No fairer hand in all the land, And lo! the bracelet matches it." Dazzled, the peddler on her gazed, Against the sun to view more clear. Had something of a high command. That filled with awe. Aside she shook Intruding curls, by breezes fanned, And blown across her brows and face, And asked the price; which when she heard She nodded, and with quiet grace For payment to her home referred. "And where, O maiden, is thy house? No maiden art thou, but a spouse, Happy, and rich, and fair, and young." "Far otherwise; my lord is poor, And him at home thou shalt not find; Ask for my father; at the door Knock loudly; he is deaf, but kind. Seest thou that lofty gilded spire, Above these tufts of foliage green? That is our place; its point of fire Will guide thee o'er the tract between." "That is the temple spire." — "Yes, there The manse is near, a building fair, When thou hast knocked, and seen him, say, His daughter, at Dhamaser Ghat, Shell bracelets bought from thee to-day, Be sure, he will not let thee pass If he demur, or cry alas! No money hath he,- then reveal; "Within the small box, marked with streaks Of bright vermilion, by the shrine, The key whereof has lain for weeks Untouched, he'll find some coin,-'tis mine. That will enable him to pay The bracelet's price. Now fare thee well!" She spoke; the peddler went away, Charmed with her voice as by some spell; While she, left lonely there, prepared To plunge into the water pure, Not weak she seemed, nor delicate; Like hers, the goddess of the chase Framed in its cloud of floating hair! No painter's hand might hope to trace The beauty and the glory there! Well might the peddler look with awe, For though her eyes were soft, a ray Onward through groves the peddler sped, Humble but neat, with open door! "Here smiling Peace and Plenty dwell." Unconsciously he raised his cry, "Shell-bracelets, ho!" And at his voice Looked out the priest, with eager eye, If thou art in a hungry mood. The rich and poor, the high and low! Come, wash thy feet, and break thy fast; Then on thy journey strengthened go." "Oh, thanks, good priest! Observance due And greetings! May thy name be blest! I came on business, but I knew, Here might be had both food and rest Without a charge; for all the poor Ten miles around thy sacred shrine Know that thou keepest open door, And praise that generous hand of thine. But let my errand first be told: For bracelets sold to thine this day, So much thou owest me in gold; Hast thou the ready cash to pay? "The bracelets were enameled,- so The price is high."-"How! Sold to mine? Who bought them, I should like to know?" Thy daughter, with the large black eyne, Now bathing at the marble ghat." Loud laughed the priest at this reply, "I shall not put up, friend, with that; No daughter in the world have I; An only son is all my stay; Some minx has played a trick, no doubt: He has no money, tell him straight The box vermilion-streaked to try, That's near the shrine.'"-"Well, wait, friend, wait!" The priest said, thoughtful; and he ran And with the open box came back:"Here is the price exact, my man, No surplus over, and no lack. "How strange! how strange! Oh, blest art thou To have beheld her, touched her hand, Before whom Vishnu's self must bow, And Brahma and his heavenly band! Here have I worshiped her for years, And never seen the vision bright; Vigils and fasts and secret tears Have almost quenched my outward sight; And yet that dazzling form and face I have not seen, and thou, dear friend, "How strange! How strange! Oh, happy thou! Must have bewildered thee, I trow, And made thee lose thy senses all." A dim light on the peddler now Began to dawn; and he let fall His bracelet-basket in his haste, And backward ran, the way he came : What meant the vision fair and chaste; Whose eyes were they,- those eyes of flame? Swift ran the peddler as a hind; The old priest followed on his trace; They reached the ghat, but could not find The lady of the noble face. The birds were silent in the wood; The lotus flowers exhaled a smell, Faint, over all the solitude; A heron as a sentinel Stood by the bank. They called,-in vain; Broad sunshine, yet a hush profound! They turned with saddened hearts to go; |