But while the prince chafed at the long delay, The sweet Yasodhara began to feel The bitter pangs of unrequited love. But her young hands, busy with others' wants, And her young heart, busy with others' woes, With acts of kindness filled the lagging hours, Best of all medicines for aching hearts. Yet often she would seek a quiet nook Deep in the park, where giant trees cross arms, Making high gothic arches, and a shade That noonday's fiercest rays could scarcely pierce, And there alone with her sad heart communed: "Yes! I have kept it for the giver's sake, But he has quite forgot his love, his gift, and me. How bright these jewels seemed warmed by his love, But now how dull, how icy and how dead!" But soon the soft-eyed antelopes and fawns And fleet gazelles came near and licked her hands; And birds of every rich and varied plume Gathered around and filled the air with song; And even timid pheasants brought their broods, For her sweet loving life had here restored The peace and harmony of paradise; And as they shared her bounty she was soothed By their mute confidence and perfect trust. But though time seems to lag, yet still it moves, Resistless as the ocean's swelling tide, Bearing its mighty freight of human lives With all their joys and sorrows, hopes and fears, Onward, forever onward, to life's goal. At length the embassy is sent, and now, Just as the last faint rays of rosy light Fade from the topmost Himalayan peaks, And tired nature sinks to quiet rest, A horseman dashes through the silent streets Bearing the waiting prince the welcome word That one short journey of a single day Divides him from the sweet Yasodhara; And light-winged rumor spreads the joyful news, And ere the dawn had danced from mountain-top O'er hill and vale and plain to the sweet notes Of nature's rich and varied orchestra, And dried the pearly tears that night had wept, The prince led forth his train to meet his bride, Wondering that Kantaka, always so free, So eager and so fleet, should seem to lag. And in that fragrant garden's cooling shade, Where they had parted, now again they meet, And there we leave them reverently alone, For art can never paint nor words describe The peace and rest and rapture of that scene.