As they were sister-moons; the soft moon-face Which with its queenly light makes all things bright Where it doth gleam; the large deep lotus-eyes, That, like to Rati's own, the Queen of Love, Beam, each a lovelit star, filling the worlds With longing. Ah, fair lotus-flower, plucked up By Fate's hard grasp from far Vidarbha's pool, How is thy cup muddied and slimed to-day! Ah, moon, how is thy night like to the eclipse When Rahu swallows up the silver round! Ah, tearless eyes, reddened with weeping him, How are ye like to gentle streams run dry! Ah, lake of lilies, where grief's elephant Hath swung his trunk, and turned the crystal black, And scattered all the blue and crimson cups, And frightened off the birds! Ah, lily-cup, Tender, and delicately leaved, and reared To blossom in a palace built of gems, How dost thou wither here, wrenched by the root, Sun-scorched and faded! Noblest, loveliest, best!-- Who bear'st no gems, yet so becomest them-- How like the new moon's silver horn thou art, When envious black clouds blot it! Lost for thee Are love, home, children, friends, and kinsmen; lost All joy of that fair body thou dost wear Only that it may last to find thy lord. Truly a woman's ornament is this:-- The husband is her jewel; lacking him She hath none, though she shines with priceless pearls; Piteous must be her state! And, torn from her, Doth Nala cling to life; or, day by day, Waste with long yearning? Oh, as I behold Those black locks, and those eyes--dark and long-shaped As are the hundred-petalled lotus-leaves-- And watch her joyless who deserves all joy, My heart is sore! When will she overpass The river of this sorrow, and come safe Unto its farther shore? When will she meet Her lord, as moon and moon-star in the sky Mingle? For, as I think, in winning her, Nala would win his happy days again, And--albeit banished now--have back his lands. Alike in years and graces, and alike In lordly race these were: no bride could seem Worthy Nishadha, if it were not she; Nor husband worthy of Vidarbha's Pride, Save it were Nala. It is meet I bring Comfort forthwith to yon despairing one, The consort of the just and noble Prince, For whom I see her heart-sick. I will go And speak good tidings to this moon-faced Queen, Who once knew nought of sorrows, but to-day Stands yonder, plunged heart-deep in woful thought." So, all those signs and marks considering Which stamped her Bhima's child, Sudêva drew Nearer, and said: "Vidarbhi, Nala's wife, I am the Bráhmana Sudêva, friend Unto my lord, thy brother, and I come By royal Bhima's mandate, seeking thee. That Maharaja, thy father, dwells in health; Thy mother and thy house are well; and well-- With promise of long years--thy little ones,