The appointed victims for the offering,
He tears them from the flame with magic art,
While we all powerless watch with drooping heart.
He too has stolen from his master's side
The steed of heavenly race, great INDRA'S pride.
No more our hosts, so glorious once, withstand
The fierce dominion of the demon's hand,
As herbs of healing virtue fail to tame
The sickness raging through the infected frame.
Idly the discus hangs on VISH[N.]U'S neck,
And our last hope is vain, that it would check
The haughty TARAK'S might, and flash afar
Ruin and death--the thunderbolt of war.
E'en INDRA'S elephant has felt the might
Of his fierce monsters in the deadly fight,
Which spurn the dust in fury, and defy
The threatening clouds that sail along the sky.
Therefore, O Lord, we seek a chief, that he
May lead the hosts of heaven to victory,
Even as holy men who long to sever
The immortal spirit from its shell for ever,
Seek lovely Virtue's aid to free the soul
From earthly ties and action's base control.
Thus shall he save us: proudly will we go
Under his escort 'gainst the furious foe;
And INDRA, conqueror in turn, shall bring
FORTUNE, dear captive, home with joy and triumphing."

Sweet as the rains--the fresh'ning rains--that pour
On the parched earth when thunders cease to roar,
Were BRAHMA'S words: "Gods, I have heard your grief;
Wait ye in patience: time will bring relief.
'Tis not for me, my children, to create
A chief to save you from your mournful fate.
Not by my hand the fiend must be destroyed,
For my kind favour has he once enjoyed;
And well ye know that e'en a poisonous tree
By him who planted it unharmed should be.
He sought it eagerly, and long ago
I gave my favour to your demon-foe,
And stayed his awful penance, that had hurled
Flames, death, and ruin o'er the subject world.
When that great warrior battles for his life,
O, who may conquer in the deadly strife,
Save one of ['S]IVA'S seed? He is the light,
Reigning supreme beyond the depths of night.
Nor I, nor VISH[N.]U, his full power may share,
Lo, where he dwells in solitude and prayer!
Go, seek the Hermit in the grove alone,
And to the God be UMA'S beauty shown.
Perchance, the Mountain-child, with magnet's force,
May turn the iron from its steadfast course,
Bride of the mighty God; for only she
Can bear to Him as water bears to me.
Then from their lo