And when the King Had gained the bank he saw a little boat With roof of bent bamboos and _kadjang_ screen. Then to the Queen, "Rest here, my precious one." The silver moon was at the full, but veiled With clouds, like to a maid who hides her face And glances toward her lover timidly. Then there was born a daughter, like a flower, More beautiful than statue of pure gold, Just like the tulips that the princess plucked. The mother's heart was broken at the thought That she must leave the babe, the child beloved They both adored, such beauty it presaged. The King with tears exclaimed, "How can we take The infant with us o'er this stony road Beset with thorns, and burned with dreadful heat? Pearl of my palace," said he to the Queen, "Weep not so bitterly about the child. An offering let us make of her to God. God grant she may be found by loving hearts Who'll care for her and raise her in their home." As soon as they had quite determined there To leave the infant princess, their great grief No limit knew. But ere they went away The King took up the infant in his arms And rocked her on his knees until she slept. "Sleep on, heart's love, my soul, my little one, Weep not for thy dear mother's lot. She fain Would take thee with her, but the way is hard. Sleep on, dear child, the apple of my eye, The image of thy sire. Stay here, fear not. For unto God we trust thee, Lord of all. Sleep on, my child, chief jewel of my crown, And let thy father go. To look at thee Doth pierce my heart as by a poniard's blow. Ah, sweet my child, dear, tender little one, Thy father loves yet leaves thee. Happy be, And may no harm come nigh thee. Fare thee well." The little princess slept, lulled by his voice. He put her from his knees and placed her on A finely woven cloth of Ind, and covered her With satin webbed with gold. With flowing tears The mother wrapped her in a tissue fine Adorned with jewels like to sculptured flowers. She seized the child and weeping murmured low: "O dearest child, my pretty little girl! I leave thee to the Master of the world. Live happily, although thy mother goes And leaves thee here. Ah, sad thy mother's lot! Thy father forces her to quit thee now. She would prefer with thee to stay, but, no! Thy father bids her go. And that is why Thy mother's fond heart breaks, she loves thee so, And yet must leave thee. Oh, how can I live?" The mother fainted, and the grieving King Was fain to kill himself, so was he moved. He took the Queen's head on his knees. And soon By God's decree and ever-sheltering grace She to her senses came and stood erect. Again she wept on looking at the child. "If I should never see thee more, sweet soul, Oh, may thy mother share thy fate! Her life Is bound to thine. The light is gone from out Thy mother's eyes. Hope dies within her heart Because she fears to see thee nevermore.