Then, lightly treading where those sleepers lay, Into the night Siddartha passed: its eyes, The watchful stars, looked love on him: its breath, The wandering wind, kissed his robe's fluttered fringe; The garden-blossoms, folded for the dawn, Opened their velvet hearts to waft him scents From pink and purple censers: o'er the land, From Himalay unto the Indian Sea, A tremor spread, as if earth's soul beneath Stirred with an unknown hope; and holy books-- Which tell the story of our Lord--say, too, That rich celestial musics thrilled the air From hosts on hosts of shining ones, who thronged Eastward and westward, making bright the night Northward and southward, making glad the ground. Also those four dread Regents of the Earth, Descending at the doorway, two by two,-- With their bright legions of Invisibles In arms of sapphire, silver, gold, and pearl-- Watched with joined hands the Indian Prince, who stood, His tearful eyes raised to the stars, and lips Close-set with purpose of prodigious love. Then strode he forth into the gloom and cried, "Channa, awake! and bring out Kantaka!" "What would my Lord?" the charioteer replied-- Slow-rising from his place beside the gate "To ride at night when all the ways are dark?" "Speak low," Siddartha said, "and bring my horse, For now the hour is come when I should quit This golden prison where my heart lives caged To find the truth; which henceforth I will seek, For all men's sake, until the truth be found." "Alas! dear Prince," answered the charioteer, "Spake then for nought those wise and holy men Who cast the stars and bade us wait the time When King Suddhodana's great son should rule Realms upon realms, and be a Lord of lords? Wilt thou ride hence and let the rich world slip Out of thy grasp, to hold a beggar's bowl? Wilt thou go forth into the friendless waste That hast this Paradise of pleasures here?" The Prince made answer: "Unto this I came, And not for thrones: the kingdom that I crave Is more than many realms, and all things pass To change and death. Bring me forth Kantaka!" "Most honored," spake again the charioteer, "Bethink thee of their woe whose bliss thou art-- How shalt thou help them, first undoing them?" Siddartha answered: "Friend, that love is false Which clings to love for selfish sweets of love; But I, who love these more than joys of mine-- Yea, more than joy of theirs--depart to save Them and all flesh, if utmost love avail. Go, bring me Kantaka!"