4. Daughter of Earth! therein thou deem'st aright. And never yet did form more beautiful, In dreams of night descending from on high, Bless the religious Virgin's gifted sight; Nor, like a vision of delight, Rise on the raptur'd Poet's inward eye. Of human form divine was he, The immortal Youth of Heaven who floated by; Even such as that divinest form shall be In those blest stages of our onward race, When no infirmity, Low thought, nor base desire, nor wasting care, Deface the semblance of our heavenly sire. The wings of Eagle or of Cherubim {61} Had seem'd unworthy him: Angelic power and dignity and grace Were in his glorious pennons; from the neck Down to the ankle reach'd their swelling web, Richer than robes of Tyrian die, that deck Imperial majesty: Their colour like the winter's moonless sky When all the stars of midnight's canopy Shine forth; or like the azure deep at noon, Reflecting back to heaven a brighter blue. Such was their tint when clos'd, but when outspread, The permeating light Shed through their substance thin a varying hue; Now bright as when the Rose, Beauteous as fragrant, gives to scent and sight A like delight; now like the juice that flows From Douro's generous vine, Or ruby when with deepest red it glows; Or as the morning clouds refulgent shine When, at forthcoming of the Lord of Day, The Orient, like a shrine, Kindles as it receives the rising ray, And heralding his way, Proclaims the presence of the power divine. {62} 5. Thus glorious were the wings Of that celestial Spirit, as he went Disporting through his native element. Nor these alone The gorgeous beauties that they gave to view: Through the broad membrane branch'd a pliant bone; Spreading like fibres from their parent stem, Its veins like interwoven silver shone, Or as the chaster hue Of pearls that grace some Sultan's diadem. Now with slow stroke and strong, behold him smite The buoyant air, and now in gentler flight, On motionless wing expanded, shoot along. 6. Through air and sunshine sails the Ship of Heaven. Far far beneath them lies The gross and heavy atmosphere of earth; And with the Swerga gales, The Maid of mortal birth At every breath a new delight inhales. And now toward its port the Ship of Heaven, Swift as a falling meteor, shapes its flight, {63} Yet gently as the dews of night that gem, And do not bend the hare-bell's slenderest stem. Daughter of Earth, Ereenia cried, alight, This is thy place of rest, the Swerga this, Lo, here my Bower of Bliss! 7. He furl'd his azure wings, which round him fold Graceful as robes of Grecian chief of old. The happy Kailyal knew not where to gaze: Her eyes around in joyful wonder roam, Now turn'd upon the lovely Glendoveer, Now on his heavenly home. EREENIA. Here, Maiden, rest in peace, And I will guard thee, feeble as I am. The Almighty Rajah shall not harm thee here, While Indra keeps his throne.