And thus they circle round the maidan wide,
And as they pass along the people shout,
"Long live the king! long live our noble prince!"
To all which glad acclaims the prince responds
With heartfelt courtesy and royal grace.
When they had nearly reached the palace gate
On their return, the king drew to the right
With his attendants, while the prince with his
Drew to the left, reviewing all the line
That passed again down to the judges' seat,
Under the king's pavilion near the lake.
The prince eagerly watched them as they passed,
Noting their brawny limbs and polished arms,
The pose and skill of every charioteer,
The parts and varied breed of every horse,
Aiding his comrades with his deeper skill.
But when the queens of beauty passed him by,
He was all smiles and gallantry and grace,
Until the last, Yasodhara, came near,
Whose laugh was clearest of the merry crowd,
Whose golden hair imprisoned sunlight seemed,
Whose cheek, blending the lily with the rose,
Spoke of more northern skies and Aryan blood,
Whose rich, not gaudy, robes exquisite taste
Had made to suit her so they seemed a part
Of her sweet self; whose manner, simple, free,
Not bold or shy, whose features--no one saw
Her features, for her soul covered her face
As with a veil of ever-moving life.
When she came near, and her bright eyes met his,
He seemed to start; his gallantry was gone,
And like an awkward boy he sat and gazed;
And her laugh too was hushed, and she passed on,
Passed out of sight but never out of mind,
The king and all his counselors saw this.
Pages:
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39