Again and again did He read the stanza, of which the meaning was known to Swarup only. It meant in effect that as the milkmaids at Kurukshetra were delighted to see Krishna, so was the Master gratified at the sight of Jagannáth. Under that emotion He had the burden sung (by Swarup). At last Radhá prays to Krishna, "You are the same [beloved] and I am the same [lover, as during your incarnation as Krishna], and yet Brindában steals my heart. Appear at Brindában again! Here there are crowds and the din and bustle of elephants, horses and chariots;--there only flowery woodlands, the bee's murmur, the cuckoo's cooing! Here you are dressed as a King girt round by warriors, there you were a cow-boy, in the company of flute players! Here I have not a drop of the ocean of bliss I used to taste in thy society at Brindában. Take me with thee to dally at Brindában again. Thus only can my heart be gratified." In the ardour of His devotion the Master recited the stanzas of the _Bhágabat_, voicing Radhiká's longing. But other people could not understand the verses; Swarup alone knew their meaning but spoke not. (Afterwards) Rup Goswámi proclaimed the sense. (_Vide Bhágabat_ X. lxxxii. 35 and 31). In Swarup's company had the Master day and night enjoyed the sense of these verses in His house. During His dance the same emotion overcame Him; so He recited the stanzas and danced gazing at Jagannáth. Swarup,--fortunate beyond expression in being absorbed body and soul in the Master,--sang, while the Master drank in his music in abstraction. Under passion's sway the Master sat down and with bowed head traced letters on the ground with His finger. Lest His finger should be hurt, Swarup prevented Him. Swarup's song was in exact accord with the Master's emotion; he gave a vocal shape to every mood of the Master's heart. As He gazed at Jagannáth's lotus-like face, flashing in the sunlight, his beautiful eyes, his perfumes, robes, garlands and ornaments, the ocean of joy surged up in the Master's heart, a wild storm swept through Him; rapture and wildness raised a tumult, the different emotions fought in Him like hostile armies. A passion rose, a passion subsided, it came to terms with another, and at last His normal mood of spirituality (_sátwik_) asserted itself. The Master's body was a pure hill of gold; His emotion a tree with every flower in bloom. The sight drew the hearts of all; with the nectar of love He moistened their minds. All the servitors of Jagannáth, all the courtiers of the king, the pilgrims, and the residents of Puri,--all marvelled at the Master's dance and rapture, and all felt devotion to Krishna. In enthusiasm they danced, sang, and set up a din. The pilgrims by joining the dance increased the happiness fourfold. Jagannáth hiniself moved on slowly to witness the Master's dance.