5. Toward this Lake, above the nether sphere, The living Bark, with angel eye, Directs its course along the obedient sky. Kehama hath not yet dominion here; {97} And till the dreaded hour, When Indra by the Rajah shall be driven Dethron'd from Heaven, Here may Ladurlad rest beyond his power. The living Bark alights; the Glendoveer Then lays Ladurlad by the blessed Lake; . . . O happy Sire, and yet more happy Daughter! The etherial gales his agony aslake, His daughter's tears are on his cheek, His hand is in the water; The innocent man, the man opprest, Oh joy! . . . hath found a place of rest Beyond Kehama's sway, His curse extends not here; his pains have past away. 6. O happy Sire, and happy Daughter! Ye on the banks of that celestial water Your resting place and sanctuary have found. What! hath not then their mortal taint defil'd The sacred solitary ground? Vain thought! . . the Holy Valley smil'd Receiving such a sire and child; Ganges, who seem'd asleep to lie, {98} Beheld them with benignant eye, And ripped round melodiously, And roll'd her little waves, to meet And welcome their beloved feet. The gales of Swerga thither fled, And heavenly odours there were shed About, below, and overhead; And Earth, rejoicing in their tread, Hath built them up a blooming Bower, Where every amaranthine flower Its deathless blossom interweaves With bright and undecaying leaves. 7. Three happy beings are there here, The Sire, the Maid, the Glendoveer. A fourth approaches, . . . who is this That enters in the Bower of Bliss? No form so fair might painter find Among the daughters of mankind; For death her beauties hath refin'd, And unto her a form hath given, Fram'd of the elements of Heaven; Pure dwelling-place for perfect mind. {99} She stood and gaz'd on sire and child; Her tongue not yet had power to speak, The tears were streaming down her cheek; And when those tears her sight beguil'd, And still her faultering accents fail'd, The Spirit, mute and motionless, Spread out her arms for the caress, Made still and silent with excess Of love and painful happiness. 8. The Maid that lovely form survey'd; Wistful she gaz'd, and knew her not; But Nature to her heart convey'd A sudden thrill, a startling thought, A feeling many a year forgot, Now like a dream anew recurring, As if again in every vein Her mother's milk was stirring. With straining neck and earnest eye She stretch'd her hands imploringly, As if she fain would have her nigh, Yet fear'd to meet the wish'd embrace, At once with love and awe opprest, {100} Not so, Ladurlad; he could trace, Though brighten'd with angelic grace, His own Yedillian's earthly face; He ran and held her to his breast! Oh joy above all joys of Heaven, By Death alone to others given, This moment hath to him restor'd The early-lost, the long-deplor'd.