Lotus and Jewel Containing "In an Indian Temple", "A Casket of Gems", "A Queen's Revenge": With Other Poems: By Edwin Arnold |
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The Snake and the Baby.
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The Snake and the Baby.
“In sin conceived,” you tell us,“condemned for the guilt of birth,”
From the moment when, lads and lasses, they come to this beautiful Earth;
And the rose-leaf hands, and the limpid eyes, and the blossom-mouths, learning to kiss
Mean nothing, my good Lord Bishop! which, any way, shakes you in this?
From the moment when, lads and lasses, they come to this beautiful Earth;
And the rose-leaf hands, and the limpid eyes, and the blossom-mouths, learning to kiss
Mean nothing, my good Lord Bishop! which, any way, shakes you in this?
Well, I—I believe in babies! from the dawn of a day in spring
When, under the neems, in my garden, I saw a notable thing,
Long ago, in my Indian garden. 'Twas a morning of gold and grey,
And the Sun—as you never see him—had melted the last stars away.
When, under the neems, in my garden, I saw a notable thing,
Long ago, in my Indian garden. 'Twas a morning of gold and grey,
And the Sun—as you never see him—had melted the last stars away.
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My Arab, before the house-door, stood stamping the gravel to go,
All wild for our early gallop; and you heard the caw of the crow,
And the “nine little sisters” a-twitter in the thorn-bush; and, farther away
The coppersmith's stroke in the fig-tree, awaking the squirrels to play.
All wild for our early gallop; and you heard the caw of the crow,
And the “nine little sisters” a-twitter in the thorn-bush; and, farther away
The coppersmith's stroke in the fig-tree, awaking the squirrels to play.
My foot was raised to the stirrup, and the bridle gathered. What made
Syce Gopal stare straight before him, with visage fixed and dismayed?
What made him whisper in terror? “O Shiva, the snake! the snake!”
I looked where Gopal was gazing, and felt my own heart quake!
Syce Gopal stare straight before him, with visage fixed and dismayed?
What made him whisper in terror? “O Shiva, the snake! the snake!”
I looked where Gopal was gazing, and felt my own heart quake!
For there—in a patch of sunlight—where the path to the well went down,
The year-old baby of Gopal, sate naked, and soft, and brown,
His small right hand encircling a lota of brass, his left
Close-cuddling a great black cobra, slow-creeping forth from a cleft!
The year-old baby of Gopal, sate naked, and soft, and brown,
His small right hand encircling a lota of brass, his left
Close-cuddling a great black cobra, slow-creeping forth from a cleft!
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We held our breaths! The serpent drew clear its lingering tail
As we gazed; you could see its dark folds and silvery belly trail
Tinkling the baby's bangles, and climbing his thigh and his breast,
As it glided beneath the fingers on those cold scales fearlessly pressed.
As we gazed; you could see its dark folds and silvery belly trail
Tinkling the baby's bangles, and climbing his thigh and his breast,
As it glided beneath the fingers on those cold scales fearlessly pressed.
He was crowing—that dauntless baby!—while the lank black Terror squeezed,
Its muzzle and throat 'twixt the small flank and arm of the boy! Well pleased,
He was hard at play with his serpent, pretending to guard the milk,
And stroking that grewsome comrade with palms of nut brown silk!
Its muzzle and throat 'twixt the small flank and arm of the boy! Well pleased,
He was hard at play with his serpent, pretending to guard the milk,
And stroking that grewsome comrade with palms of nut brown silk!
Alone, untended, and helpless, he was cooing low to the snake;
Which coiled and clung about him, even more (as it seemed) for the sake
Of the touch of his velvety body, and the love of his laughing eyes,
And the flowery clasp of his fingers, than to make the milk a prize.
Which coiled and clung about him, even more (as it seemed) for the sake
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And the flowery clasp of his fingers, than to make the milk a prize.
For, up to the boy's face mounting, we saw the cobra dip
His wicked head in the lota, and drink with him, sip for sip;
Whereat, with a chuckle, that baby pushed off the serpent's head,
And—look!—the red jaws opened, and the terrible hood was spread!
His wicked head in the lota, and drink with him, sip for sip;
Whereat, with a chuckle, that baby pushed off the serpent's head,
And—look!—the red jaws opened, and the terrible hood was spread!
And Gopal muttered beside me “Saheb, maro! maro!”
to see
The forked tongue glance at the infant's neck, and the spectacled devilry
Of the flat crest dancing and darting all round that innocent brow;
Yet it struck not; but, quietly closing its jaws and its hood, laid now
The forked tongue glance at the infant's neck, and the spectacled devilry
Of the flat crest dancing and darting all round that innocent brow;
Yet it struck not; but, quietly closing its jaws and its hood, laid now
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The horrible mottled murder of its mouth in the tender chink
Of the baby's plump crossed thighlets; while peacefully he did drink
What breakfast-milk he wanted, then held the lota down
For the snake to finish at leisure, plunged deep in it, fang and crown.
Of the baby's plump crossed thighlets; while peacefully he did drink
What breakfast-milk he wanted, then held the lota down
For the snake to finish at leisure, plunged deep in it, fang and crown.
Three times, before they parted, my Syce would have sprung to the place,
In fury to smite the serpent; but I held him fast, for one pace
Had been death to the boy! I knew it! and I whispered, “Gopal, wait!
“Chooprao! he is wiser than we are; he has never yet learned to hate!”
In fury to smite the serpent; but I held him fast, for one pace
Had been death to the boy! I knew it! and I whispered, “Gopal, wait!
“Chooprao! he is wiser than we are; he has never yet learned to hate!”
Then coil by coil, the cobra unwound its glistering bands,
Sliding—all harmless and friendly—from under the baby's hands;
Who crowed, as his comrade left him, in year-old language to say
“Good-bye! for this morning, Serpent! come very soon back to play!”
Sliding—all harmless and friendly—from under the baby's hands;
Who crowed, as his comrade left him, in year-old language to say
“Good-bye! for this morning, Serpent! come very soon back to play!”
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So, I thought, as I mounted “Wurdah,” and galloped the Maidan thrice,
“Millennium's due to-morrow, by ‘baby and cockatrice’!”
And I never can now believe it, my Lord! that we come to this Earth
Ready-damned, with the seeds of evil sown quite so thick at our birth!
“Millennium's due to-morrow, by ‘baby and cockatrice’!”
And I never can now believe it, my Lord! that we come to this Earth
Ready-damned, with the seeds of evil sown quite so thick at our birth!
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