THE MIRACLE OF PURUN BHAGAT
The night we felt the Earth would move
We stole and plucked him by the hand,
Because we loved him with the love
That knows but cannot understand.
We stole and plucked him by the hand,
Because we loved him with the love
That knows but cannot understand.
And when the roaring hillside broke,
And all our world fell down in rain,
We saved him, we the Little Folk;
But lo he will not come again!
And all our world fell down in rain,
We saved him, we the Little Folk;
But lo he will not come again!
Mourn now, we saved him for the sake
Of such poor love as wild ones may.
Mourn ye Our brother does not wake
And his own kind drive us away!
Dirge of the Langurs.
Of such poor love as wild ones may.
Mourn ye Our brother does not wake
And his own kind drive us away!
Dirge of the Langurs.
here was once a man in India who was Prime Minister of one of the semi-independent native States in the north-western part of the country. He was a Brahmin, so high-caste that caste ceased to have any particular meaning for him; and his father had been an important official in the gay-coloured tag-rag and bob-tail of an old-fashioned
