But the mother, Yasodā, she who had reared and nourished the Child at her heart, she who had caressed His lovely baby softness and with fondness saw his first toddling steps, she could not be comforted, nor would her heart cease its beating of pain and terror. And Akrura related how Kangsa in wrath had thrown Devaki and Vāsudeva into prison, on hearing that Krishna was the eighth son of their union. And Yasodā wept as the thought of the mother who had lost all her sons at the cost of Krishna, and yet had not the blessing of suckling Him. Yasodā, most blessed of all women art thou, who nursed the Lord of Love as thy son! And fitted wert thou by Him to bestow on His baby life thy caresses and receive the love that flowed from Him! Worthy wert thou to croon Him to sleep, to bathe the sweet beauty of Him who, though He had all there was, yet chose to be soothed and guided and directed by thee in His babyhood! And when to boyhood's estate He grew and startled all the world by the wonder of His doing, to thee He came as a little child, to be loved and petted and soothed of His weeping and fretting! And now when called king of the land, and called king by the hearts of the whole known world that panted to look upon His wonderful beauty and see the might of His strength, even now close to thy heart He nestles, and twines His arms about thy neck, and gazes with love-light into thine eyes to comfort thee, and feels a shadow mantle His heart as He banishes the pain from thy brow! For well He knows that no more to thee the forest child He will be; for the world now claims Him as its own, and in His bigger world an actor He must be. Thus heart to heart they sit, the mother and the foster-son. He who was Lord of all the world, and she who reared him as a child. CHAPTER XXVIII. So night wore away, and in the early morning hours Akrura was ready to start on the journey with Rāma and Krishna. But great was the wail and heartrending the lamentations that came from the hearts of the Gopis. With tear-filled eyes they rushed to His home and pleaded and prayed that He stay in their midst; for to them life seemed impossible without Him, and Brindāban could not be blessed when He ceased to walk thereon. And what would the cattle and flowers and trees do without the sound of His love-touched flute? "Oh, remain with us, Krishna, O Lord of our hearts! Oh, keep close to our land, Most Beautiful One! "Broken are our hearts, bowed low our spirit at the thought of our lives without Thy presence to cheer us. Dull are our minds and leaden our hearts by the pain of Thy going. "Oh, leave us not in this ocean of sorrow, but stay where we ever may look on Thy face. "O Thou who shapest all that is, who hast knitted our hearts to Thyself! how canst Thou tear it away from us who know the sweetness of its love and the fruits that spring therefrom?