Thy consort mild, Affection, ever true, Graces thy side, her vest of glowing hue, And in her train twelve blooming maids advance, Touch golden strings and knit the mirthful dance. Thy dreadful implements they bear, And wave them in the scented air, Each with pearls her neck adorning, Brighter than the tears of morning. Thy crimson ensign which before them flies, Decks with new stars the sapphire skies. God of the flowery shafts and flowery bow, Delight of all above and all below! Thy loved companion, constant from his birth In heaven clep’d Vassant, and gay Spring on earth, Weaves thy green robe, and flaunting bowers, And from the clouds draws balmy showers, He with fresh arrows fills thy quiver, (Sweet the gift, and sweet the giver,) And bids the various warbling throng Burst the pent blossoms with their song. He bends the luscious cane, and twists the string, With bees how sweet! but ah, how keen their sting! He with fine flowrets tips thy ruthless darts, Which through five senses pierce enraptured hearts. Strong Champa, rich in od’rous gold, Warm Amer, nursed in heavenly mould, Dry Nagkezer, in silver smiling, Hot Kiticum, our sense beguiling, And last, to kindle fierce the scorching flame, Loveshaft, which gods bright Bela name. Can men resist thy power, when Krishen yields, Krishen, who still in Mathra’s holy fields, Tunes harps immortal, and to strains divine, Dances by moonlight with the Gopia nine? Oh! thou for ages born, yet ever young, For ages may thy Bramin’s lay be sung; And when thy Lory spreads his emerald wings, To waft thee high above the tower of kings, Whilst o’er thy throne the moon’s pale light Pours her soft radiance through the night, And to each floating cloud discovers The haunts of blest or joyless lovers, Thy milder influence to thy bard impart, To warm, but not consume his heart.” Amongst the fables that are told to account for the origin of this amorous devotion, Sir William tells us, is the following, viz.:--