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 pedler went away, Charmed with her voice, as by some spell; While she left lonely there, prepared To plunge into the water pure, And like a rose her beauty bared, From all observance quite secure. Not weak she seemed, nor delicate, Strong was each limb of flexile grace, And full the bust; the mien elate, Like hers, the goddess of the chase On Latmos hill--and oh, the face Framed in its cloud of floating hair, No painter's hand might hope to trace The beauty and the glory there! Well might the pedler look with awe, For though her eyes were soft, a ray Lit them at times, which kings who saw Would never dare to disobey. Onwards through groves the pedler sped Till full in front the sunlit spire Arose before him. Paths which led To gardens trim in gay attire Lay all around. And lo! the manse, Humble but neat with open door! He paused, and blest the lucky chance That brought his bark to such a shore. Huge straw ricks, log huts full of grain, Sleek cattle, flowers, a tinkling bell, Spoke in a language sweet and plain, "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, And made his heart at once rejoice. "Ho, _Sankha_ pedler! Pass not by, But step thou in, and share the food Just offered on our altar high, If thou art in a hungry mood. Welcome are all to this repast! 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 enamelled--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, But cheer up, let thy heart be gay. Be sure that I shall find her out."