ntil the Moguls centuries after came,
Like swarms of locusts swept before the wind,
Or ravening wolves, to conquer fair Cashmere.[4]
And when she reached the top, before her lay,
As on a map spread out, her native land,
By lofty mountains walled on every side,
From winds, from wars, and from the world shut out;
The same great snow-capped mountains north and east
In silent, glittering, awful grandeur stand,
And west the same bold, rugged, cliff-crowned hills.
That filled her eyes with wonder when a child.
Below the snow a belt of deepest green;
Below this belt of green great rolling hills,
Checkered with orchards, vineyards, pastures, fields,
The vale beneath peaceful as sleeping babe,
The city nestling round the shining lake,
And near the park and palace, her sweet home.

O noble, peaceful, beautiful Cashmere!
Well named the garden of eternal spring!
But yet, with home and all its joys so near.
She often turned and strained her eager eyes
To catch one parting glimpse of that sweet spot
Where more than half of her young heart was left.

At length their horns, whose mocking echoes
Rolled from hill to hill, were answered from below,
While from the park a gay procession comes,
Increasing as it moves, to welcome her,
Light of the palace, the people's idol, home.

The prince's thoughts by day and dreams by night
Meanwhile were filled with sweet Yasodhara,
And this bright vision ever hovering near
Hid from his eyes those grim and ghastly forms,
Night-loving and light-shunning brood of sin,
That ever haunt poor fallen human lives,
And from the darkened corners of the soul
Are quick to sting each pleasure with sharp pain,
To pour some bitter in life's sweetest cup,
And shadow with despair its brightest hopes--
Made him forget how sorrow fills the world,
How strength is used to crush and not to raise,
How creeds are bandages to blind men's eyes,
Lest they should see and walk in duty's path
That leads to peace on earth and joy in heaven,
And even made him for the time forget
His noble mission to restore and save.

He sought her for his bride, but waited long,
For princes cannot wed like common folk--
Friends called, a feast prepared, some bridal gifts,
Some tears at parting and some solemn vows,
Rice scattered, slippers thrown with noisy mirth,
And common folk are joined till death shall part.
Till death shall pa