Page:Ancient Ballads and Legends of Hindustan.djvu/104

To greet this dumb, weak, helpless foster-child.
And so, whene'er it lingered in the wilds,
Or at the 'customed hour could not return,
His thoughts went with it; "And alas!" he cried,
"Who knows, perhaps some lion or some wolf,
Or ravenous tiger with relentless jaws
Already hath devoured it,—timid thing!
Lo, how the earth is dinted with its hoofs,
And variegated. Surely for my joy
It was created. When will it come back,
And rub its budding antlers on my arms
In token of its love and deep delight
To see my face? The shaven stalks of grass,
Kusha and kasha, by its new teeth clipped,
Remind me of it, as they stand in lines
Like pious boys who chant the Samga Veds
Shorn by their vows of all their wealth of hair."
Thus passed the monarch-hermit's time; in joy,
With smiles upon his lips, whenever near
His little favourite; in bitter grief
And fear, and trouble, when it wandered far.
And be who had abandoned ease and wealth,
And friends and dearest ties, and kingly power,
Found his devotions broken by the love