LOVE ACCEPTED .

E'en as from airy heights of mountain springeth a springlet
Limpedest leaping forth from rocking felted with moss,
Then having headlong rolled the prone-laid valley downpouring,
Populous region amid wendeth his gradual way,
Sweetest solace of all to the sweltering traveller way-worn,
Whenas the heavy heat fissures the fiery fields;
Or, as to seamen lost in night of whirlwind a-glooming
Gentle of breath there comes fairest and favouring breeze,

A little mongrel dog — he couldn't boast
The smallest trace of blooded pedigree —
All legs and feet, a no'count tail, that thumped
Its joyous greeting at the sight of me —

But loving! There's no dictionary prints
The word which, to my thinking, can express
That look that shone in his brown eyes of trust,
Solicitude and wistful tenderness!

O' nights his tawny head against my knee,
We'd sit together — yesterday he died —
And every one who loves a dog will know
Just why, a lonely-hearted man — I cried!

Things never changed since the Time of the Gods:
The flowing of water, the Way of Love.

Thinking to-morrow remains, thou heart's frail flower-of-cherry,
How knowest whether this night the tempest will not come?

All things change, we are told, in this world of change and sorrow;
But love's way never changes of promising never to change.

If with my sleeve I hide the faint colour of the dawning sun —
Then, perhaps, in the morning my love will remain.

The fire of love I for my idol know
Within my bosom hides,
As in the mountain 'neath its crust of snow
The flame abides.

Long have I yearned in vain to kiss her feet,
I lay my weary head
Down in the dust, that thus my lips may greet
Where she may tread.

No wealth have I, but like the moth I live:
Since love demands a price,
I, like the moth, have but my life to give
In sacrifice.

How has my bird-like soul been stricken low,
Pierced to the very heart!
My love has used instead of bolt and bow
A deadlier dart.

How long will she thus stand unveiled before me,
Shrinking and shy in maidenly distress,
How long, my dazzled eyes, can ye contemplate
Her blinding loveliness!

No rest is for my heart by love tormented,
It cannot even win the peace of death;
How long shall it endure with resignation
The pain it suffereth!

Like shifting shadows come the great and mighty,
And live their splendid day, and hurry past;
And who can tell how long the changing pageant
Of fleeting life shall last!

O look on me, unhappy Asif, driven

If you should meet the Loved One as you stray,
O give my letter secretly to her,
Then haste away
And do not tell my name, O Messenger.

O Morning Winds that from the garden blow,
Should you meet one like me forlorn and sad,
On him bestow
The peace and solace I have never had.

O Eyes that weep and weep unsatisfied,
That shed such floods, yet never find relief,
O stem your tide
Lest you should drown the world in seas of grief.

She need not have one anxious doubt of me,
She need not fear my further wanderings—

That rogue called Love having left me,
How cold snow feels to me!

Like the buoy that floats in the harbour,
Now high and now dropping low,
Is my heart that love has tortured
When I watch you come and go.

Praised more than can be told
in the swaying pleasure groves:
only the eye is pleasured —
by seeing just a little,
the other catches the whole heart,
and the other
seeing one as another (and being lonely)
calls out.

Though new it seems familiar —
did this heart invite it?
The world changed, and perhaps
painfully awakened this forgotten life.
Shiva, perhaps,
to adorn Uma,
with one glance
dreamed this earth to be their home.

The world must turn to a drop
and disappear
in overflowing eyes.

And [a hue] of honey-paleness overspreads the lovely countenance .