"So sang the nautch-girl to the pipe and wires, Fluttering like some vain, painted butterfly From glade to glade along the forest path, Nor dreamed her light words echoed on the ear Of him, that holy man, who sate so rapt Under the fig-tree by the path. But Buddh Lifted his great brow as the wantons passed, And spake: 'The foolish ofttimes teach the wise; I strain too much this string of life, belike, Meaning to make such music as shall save. Mine eyes are dim now that they see the truth, My strength is waned now that my need is most; Would that I had such help as man must have, For I shall die, whose life was all men's hope.'" Now, by that river dwelt a landholder Pious and rich, master of many herds, A goodly chief, the friend of all the poor; And from his house the village drew its name-- "Senani." Pleasant and in peace he lived, Having for wife Sujata, loveliest Of all the dark-eyed daughters of the plain; Gentle and true, simple and kind was she, Noble of mien, with gracious speech to all And gladsome looks--a pearl of womanhood-- Passing calm years of household happiness Beside her lord in that still Indian home, Save that no male child blessed their wedded love. Wherefore with many prayers she had besought Lukshmi, and many nights at full-moon gone Round the great Lingam, nine times nine, with gifts Of rice and jasmine wreaths and sandal oil, Praying a boy; also Sujata vowed-- If this should be--an offering of food Unto the Wood-God, plenteous, delicate, Set in a bowl of gold under his tree, Such as the lips of Devs may taste and take. And this had been: for there was born to her A beauteous boy, now three months old, who lay Between Sujata's breasts, while she did pace With grateful footsteps to the Wood-God's shrine, One arm clasping her crimson sari close To wrap the babe, that jewel of her joys, The other lifted high in comely curve To steady on her head the bowl and dish Which held the dainty victuals for the God. But Radha, sent before to sweep the ground And tie the scarlet threads around the tree, Came eager, crying, "Ah, dear Mistress! look! There is the Wood-God sitting in his place, Revealed, with folded hands upon his knees. See how the light shines round about his brow! How mild and great he seems, with heavenly eyes! Good fortune is it thus to meet the gods." So,--thinking him divine,--Sujata drew Tremblingly nigh, and kissed the earth and said, With sweet face bent: "Would that the Holy One Inhabiting his grove, Giver of good, Merciful unto me his handmaiden, Vouchsafing now his presence, might accept These our poor gifts of snowy curds, fresh made, With milk as white as new-carved ivory!"