These the Nymphs that Chaday led,
Spirits fair of generous flame;
From th' Elysium of the Dead
Warriours thus and Virgins came.

All, to such the boon is giv'n,
Free that live, and firm that die,
Once in every year of Heav'n
Breathe again the Indian sky;
Treading thus their fav'rite ground:
While they dance in mystic throng;
Big with notes of haughty sound,
India's Genius weaves the song.

"Ye fairer souls! ye warriours slain!
"Diffuse around your fire divine!

"So India's sons, a living train,

"Shall lead their rites to Rutren's shrine,

"Shall swiftly sweep the walks of War, "For ever bold, for ever free; "And Rutren, from his crimson car, "Shall give the wreath of Victory. "So India's Nymphs, on Oglu's plain, "Shall pay their vows to Chaday due; "So shall they weep no Lover slain, "The Lover crown'd, the Virgin true." He spake, The golden eye of Day appear'd, And Rutren led the Heroe-band

All sad and sorrowing from their native strand; Chaday curs'd the sacred light,

The living God of Fire she fear'd,

And swiftly sought again the bowels of the Night. Swift with her fled the virgin train;

But India's Genius lov'd no other plain,

On Indian ground for ever shall he stay, Nor shun the depths of night, nor fear the fires of day.

ODE TO THE SUN.

* ODE II.

HAIL to the God, whose golden ray

Shall beam upon the silky lap of Earth!
Soon shall he sweep his rising way
O'er the old eastern ocean, broad and fair;
Or, borne upon the bosom of the air,
Shall peer along the sky-clad mountains hoar:
Thee, God, the sons of Indian birth,
Wak'd to new life by thee, adore:

They feel thy sacred flame, and own thy glowing pow'r.
No more the sullen shades of Night,
No more the dreary glooms affright;
We hear no more the lion's growl,
Nor panther fierce of fiery soul;
Dispers'd has ev'ry shade of Hell,
And left the Welkin fair and free,
Left for where shapes unholy dwell,
The land of Light and Liberty.

Arise, ye sons of India, rise!

The Lord of Heav'n ascends the skies,
And flings th' empurpling dawn around;
For see, each flow'r of Indian ground,
Fresh-breathing from the dews of night,
Embolden'd by the sacred light,

This, and the Songs of War and Victory, are supposed to have been sung, or recited, by a Chorus of Bramins, at different times, as the different occasions required.

Springs, op'ning, from its lowly bed,

And meets th' enliv'ning Lord, and lifts the blushing

head!

*

The Sea-Nymphs leave the sportful plains,
Their traces scarce the dew retains,
Embathed in their watry bow'rs,
To lose again the sultry hours:
Hence to th' Acacia's circling shades,
Swift too have fled the woodland maids,
And there, on velvet herbs reclin'd,

They feel the coming God, and won the passing wind.

Hence to the woods and seas for prey!
The Nymphs and Maids have led the way.
Now may ye hunt the woods among,
Now may ye fish the rocks along;
No pointed stone the boat destroys,
The Hunter's feet no asp annoys.
The Nymphs and Maids have led the way;
Hence to the woods and seas for prey!
Arise, ye sons of India, rise!

The Lord of Heav'n ascends the skies:
And quench the sacred fires of night;
Already burns th' imperial light,

Arise! and spread the incense-breathing flow'rs! The God of Day shall smile-the God, the day are ours,

THE LOVE SONG.

ODE III.

WHERE high-brow'd Meli swell'd its mountain height, And smooth Savannahs drew th' enchanted sight,

* The Indians have their inferior Deities, who preside over the woods and rivers.

With flow'ry blossoms fair, a tulip-grove
Spread its kind branches, and invited Love;
When nearer Suns emblaz'd the noontide air,
The bow unstrung, unbarb'd the idle spear,
Where ampler shades diffus'd a milder day,
Moluck the hunter and the warrior lay;
And there, while stretch'd, supine, his length along,
In these wild notes he pour'd the plaintive song,

"O thou! whose love, with generous vow
"Of mutual flame, my love repaid;
"To whom the genial Gods allow,
"The charms that grace the fairest maid.
"O thou! my Abra, ever dear,
"That own'st the gentle soul sincere,
"With ev'ry purer passion fed;

"Still may'st thou joy with me to rovę
"The Fairy fields of happiest Love,

"By kindly pow'rs of Nature led.

"But now what sad unkind delay,
"Can bear thy timorous feet away,

"And force thee from this sheltering glade?
"Where now, while sultrier hours invade,
"For thee I cull each sweeter flow'r,
"For thee I weave the shadiest bow'r;
"Where might we pass each moment free,
"Bestow'd by Love, and due to me.
"Then hither turn thy gentle way,
"The bow'r laments thy long delay!
"And what shall keep thy ravish'd sight?
"What pleasure new, what fond delight
"Shall stay thee from this conscious grove,
"Where first thou own'st thy meeting Love?
"Or do some rude and savage arms
"Seize, ruthless, on thy trembling charms,

"And drag thee to the destin'd cell. "Where rapes and horrid murders dwell? .. "Rise then, my spear of bloody pow'r, "To thee belongs the vengeful hour! "And thou shalt give the wretch to know "The fatal fury of thy blow.

"But ah, how vain the fancied fear!

"No monster wild, no savage near

"Could force her from the seats of Love:
"Around the sons of Oglu move,
"And every scream, and every cry
"Would pierce the verge of yonder sky;
"And Love himself would wider bear
"The sound, on Echo's airy car.

"But yet, tho' brutal force should fail
"To move her from the gentle vale;
66 Say, O my soul, with sorrow say,

Might not the Maid delight to stray, "Where, (O curse the treacherous tongue "With cunning sounds of Flatt'ry hung!) "Some happier and some dearer youth, "In borrow'd words of seeming truth, "With all the wily tricks of Art "Has stol'n upon her easy heart?

"And shall a rival's wanton arms, "Hang, raptur'd, on her faithless charms;

And, unreveng'd, the sweets enjoy "That all my fond desires employ? "No, by the lightning of my spear, "By all my hopes of future fame, By all my father's shadows drear, "And holy Rutren's pow'rful name;