afely landed in
His native port. It was the midday noon;
He saw the selfsame fishing village that
Stood years ago upon the sandy beach,
And with a joyful heart he hastened to
His house which all deserted seemed; inside
With falt'ring steps he went, and on the walls
Of the big hall were hanging pictures of
His sire, of Krishna playing on the flute,
Of Rama, Siva, and the other gods
Whom in his childhood days his house adored,
And seemed as they were drawn but yesterday;
A thousand other old familiar scenes
In quick succession passed before his eyes,
Then quickly passed into a room, where lo!
There slept a youth and she for whom for years
Life's toils he patient bore. As one born blind
Had after years of pray'r the gift of sight
Vouchsafed to him by God, his Maker, to
Behold the beauties of the universe,
His wife, his children, and those dear to him,
But straightway feels the precious gift withdrawn;
Or as a lonely bird that unawares
Has wandered far into the deep blue sea
Finds nothing but a wat'ry waste all round,
And knows not where to rest its wearied limbs,
But at a distance kens at last a ship
To which with doubled speed it flies and flies,
And there discerns a seaman with his bow
Preventing it from sitting on the mast--
So Rudra felt. "Is this my wife?" he thought.
"Yes, by the mole upon her cheek she is;
And beauty, spite of age, still lingers on
Her face, and this fair youth, attracted by
Her charms, came here. Why hast Thou brought me home,
O God! why was I not drowned in the sea?
Why did I leave that distant country where
These twenty years I toiled for bread and lived?
And why was I not spared this ghastly sight?
No, Rati! never would thy husband bear
To see thee lying with another man.
First he will kill you both, then die himself."
So saying, from a sheath a blade he drew,
When lo! there fell the piece of a palm leaf
Whereon were writ--_think well before you do_.
"This is," he said, "my father's dying gift;
By the advice here giv'n I will abide,"
Then woke his wife, and in firm tones thus asked,
"Who is this youth that has defiled my bed?
Speak ere I strike you both." The wond'ring wife
The dagger and the stranger saw and cried--
"Kill me alone, but spare my only son."
"Thy only son!" he said; "now wake him up,
And let us all adore our Maker first,
Who saved us from my frenzy, which in