"In the kadamba grove what man is (that) standing? What sort of word coming is this: the plough of whose meaning has penetrated startlingly the path of hearing? With a hint of union, with its manner of penetrating making one well-nigh mad: My mind is agitated, it cannot be still, streams flow from my eyes: I know not what manner of man it is who utters such words: I see him not, my heart is perturbed, I cannot stay in the house: My soul rests not, it flutters to and fro in hope of seeing him: When she sees him, she will find her soul, quoth Urdbab Dâs." I have left myself no space to finish this Pallab, or to make remarks on the peculiarities of the language, which in the older masters would more properly be called old Maithila than Bengali. It is nearly identical with the language still spoken in Tirhut, the ancient Mithili, and in Munger and Bhâgalpur, the ancient Magadha, than modern Bengali. As the Aryan race grew and multiplied it naturally poured out its surplus population in Bengal, and it is not only philologically obvious that Bengali is nothing more than a further, and very modern development of the extreme eastern dialect of Hindi. All these considerations, however, I hope still further to develop at some future time. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Chaitanya and the Vaishnava Poets of Bengal, by John Beames