Poems (1885) :: :: University of Virginia Library

“Oh, girls! that hither your chatties bring,
Who is this bathing?”—Hu-ri-jee!
“The Head of our village is Horil Singh;
'Tis the Raja's sister!”—Hu-ri-jee!

“Run thou, Barber!—and, Peon! run thou;
Bring hither that Rajpût!”—Hu-ri-jee!
“Oh, girls! who carry the chatties, now,
Which is his dwelling?”—Hu-ri-jee!

170

“The dwelling of Horil Singh looks north,
And north of the door is a sandal-tree:”—
With arms fast-bound they brought him forth;
“Salaam to the Mirza!”—Hu-ri-jee!

“Take, Horil Singh, this basket of gold,
And give me thy sister, sweet Bhagbati.”
“Fire burn thy basket!” he answered, bold,—
“My sister's a Rajpût!”—Hu-ri-jee!

Horil's wife came down from her house;
She weeps in the courtyard: “Cursëd be,
Oh, sister-in-law, thy beautiful brows!
My husband is chained for them!”—Hu-ri-jee!

“Now, sister-in-law! of thy house keep charge,
And the duties therein:” quoth Bhagbati
“For Horil Singh shall be set at large,
I go to release him!”—Hu-ri-jee!

When Bhagbati came to the Mirza's hall
Low she salaamed to him:—Hu-ri-jee!
“The fetters of Horil Singh let fall,
If, Mirza,” she said, “thou desirest me.”

171

“If, Mirza,” she said, “thou wouldst have my love,
Dye me a bride-cloth;”—Hu-ri-jee!
“Saffron beneath and vermilion above,
Fit for a Rajpût!”—Hu-ri-jee!

“If, Mirza,” she said, “I am fair in thine eyes,
And mine is thy heart, now,”—Hu-ri-jee!
“Command me jewels of rich device,
Fit for a Rajpût!”—Hu-ri-jee!

“If, Mirza,” she said, “I must do this thing,
Quitting my people,”—Hu-ri-jee!
“The palanquin and the bearers bring,
That I go not afoot from them!”—Hu-ri-jee!

Smiling, he bade the dyers haste
To dye her a bride-cloth:—Hu-ri-jee!
Weeping—weeping, around her waist
Bhagbati bound it.—Hu-ri-jee!

Smiling, he bought, from the goldsmith's best,
Jewels unparalleled:—Hu-ri-jee!
Weeping, weeping—on neck and breast
Bhagbati clasped them.—Hu-ri-jee!

172

Joyously smiling, “Bring forth,” he cried,
“My gilded palanquin!”—Hu-ri-jee!
Bitterly sorrowing, entered the bride,
Beautiful Bhagbati.—Hu-ri-jee!

A koss and a half of a koss went they,
And another koss after;—Hu-ri-jee!
Then Bhagbati thirsted: “Bearers, stay!
I would drink at the tank here!”—Hu-ri-jee!

“Take from my cup,” the Mirza said:
“Oh, not to-day will I take!” quoth she:
“For this was my father's tank, who is dead,
And it soon will be distant!”—Hu-ri-jee!

She quaffed one draught from her hollowed palm,
And again she dipped it;—Hu-ri-jee!
Then leaped in the water, dark and calm,
And sank from the sight of them.—Hu-ri-jee!

Sorely the Mirza bewailed, and hid
His face in his cloth, for rage to be
So mocked: “See, now, in all she did
Bhagbati fooled me!”—Hu-ri-jee!

173

Grieving, the Mirza cast a net
Dragging the water;—Hu-ri-jee!
Only shells and weeds did he get,
Shells and bladder-weeds.—Hu-ri-jee!

Laughing, a net cast Horil Singh,
Dragging the water;—Hu-ri-jee!
Lo! at the first sweep, up they bring
Dead, cold Bhagbati—fair to see!

Laughing, homeward the Rajpût wends,
Chewing his betel; “for now,” quoth he,
“In honour this leap of Bhagbati ends
Ten generations!”—Hu-ri-jee!