University of Virginia Library

A HYMN TO CAMDEO.

What potent God from Agra's orient bow'rs
Floats thro' the lucid air, whilst living flow'rs
With sunny twine the vocal arbours wreathe,
And gales enamour'd heav'nly fragrance breathe?
Hail pow'r unknown! for at thy beck
Vales and groves their bosoms deck,
And ev'ry laughing blossom dresses
With gems of dew his musky tresses.
I feel, I feel thy genial flame divine,
And hallow thee and kiss thy shrine.
“Knowst thou not me?” Celestial sounds I hear!
“Knowst thou not me?” Ah, spare a mortal ear!
“Behold”—My swimming eyes entranc'd I raise,
But oh! they shrink before th' excessive blaze.
Yes, son of Maya, yes, I know
Thy bloomy shafts and cany bow,
Cheeks with youthful glory beaming,
Locks in braids ethereal streaming,
Thy scaly standard, thy mysterious arms,
And all thy pains and all thy charms.
God of each lovely sight, each lovely sound,
Soul-kindling, world-inflaming, stary-crown'd,
Eternal Càma! Or doth Smara bright,
Or proud Ananga give thee more delight?
Whate'er thy seat, whate'er thy name,
Seas, earth, and air, thy reign proclaim:
Wreathy smiles and roseate pleasures
Are thy richest, sweetest treasures.
All animals to thee their tribute bring,
And hail thee universal king.
Thy consort mild, Affection ever true,
Graces thy side, her vest of glowing hue,
And in her train twelve blooming girls advance,
Touch golden strings and knit the mirthful dance.
Thy dreaded 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 flow'ry shafts and flow'ry bow,
Delight of all above and all below!
Thy lov'd companion, constant from his birth,
In heav'n clep'd Bessent, and gay Spring on earth,
Weaves thy green robe and flaunting bow'rs,
And from thy clouds draws balmy show'rs,
He with fresh arrows fills thy quiver,
(Sweet the gift and sweet the giver!)
And bids the many-plumed 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 five flow'rets tips thy ruthless darts,
Which thro' five senses pierce enraptur'd hearts:
Strong Chumpa, rich in od'rous gold,
Warm Amer, nurs'd in heav'nly mould,
Dry Nagkeser 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 pow'r, when Krishen yields,
Krishen, who still in Matra's holy fields
Tunes harps immortal, and to strains divine
Dances by moonlight with the Gopia nine?
But, when thy daring arm untam'd
At Mahadeo a loveshaft aim'd,
Heav'n shook, and, smit with stony wonder,
Told his deep dread in bursts of thunder,
Whilst on thy beauteous limbs an azure fire
Blaz'd forth, which never must expire.
O thou for ages born, yet ever young,
For ages may thy Bramin's lay be sung!
And, when thy lory spreads his em'rald wings
To waft thee high above the tow'rs of kings,
Whilst o'er thy throne the moon's pale light
Pours her soft radiance thro' the night,
And to each floating cloud discovers
The haunts of blest or joyless lovers,
Thy mildest influence to thy bard impart,
To warm, but not consume, his heart.