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Poet,
who first with skill inspired did teach
Greatness
to our divine Bengali speech ,—
Divine,
but rather with delightful moan
Spring’s golden mother makes when twin-alone
She
lies with golden Love and heaven’s birds
Call
hymeneal with enchanting words
Over their passionate faces, rather these
Than with the calm and grandiose melodies
(Such
calm as consciousness of godhead owns)
The
high gods speak upon their ivory thrones
Sitting
in council high, — till taught by thee
Fragrance
and noise of the world-shaking sea.
Thus
do they praise thee who amazed espy
Thy winged epic and hear the arrows cry
And journeyings of alarmèd gods ; and due
The praise, since with great verse and numbers new
Thou
mad’st her godlike who was only fair.
And yet my heart more perfectly ensnare
Thy soft impassioned flutes and more thy Muse
To
wander in the honied months doth choose
Than courts of kings, with Sita in the grove
Of happy blossoms, (O musical voice of love
Murmuring
sweet words with sweeter sobs between!)
With
Shoorpa in the Vindhyan forests green
Laying her wonderful heart upon the sod
Made holy by the well-loved feet that trod
Its vocal shades; and more unearthly bright
Thy jewelled songs made of relucent light
Wherein the birds of spring and summer and all flowers
And
murmuring waters flow, her widowed hours,
Making
melodious who divinely loved.
No human hands such notes ambrosial moved;
These accents are not of the imperfect earth;
Rather the god was voiceful in their birth,
The god himself of the enchanting flute,
The god himself took up thy pen and wrote.
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