# The Birth of the War-God/Canto 7

Canto Seventh.
UMA'S BRIDAL.
In light and glory dawned the expected day Blest with a kindly star's auspicious ray, When gaily gathered at Himálaya's call His kinsmen to the solemn festival. Through the broad City every dame's awake To grace the bridal for her Monarch's sake; So great their love for him, this single care Makes one vast household of the thousands there. Heaven is not brighter than the royal street Where flowers lie scattered neath the nobles' feet, And banners waving to the breeze unfold Their silken broidery over gates of gold.
And she, their child, upon her bridal day Bears her dear parents' every thought away— So, when from distant shores a friend returns, With deeper love each inmost spirit burns— So, when grim Death restores his prey again Joy brighter shines from memory of pain.
Each noble matron of Himálaya's race Folds his dear Uma in a long embrace, Pours blessings on her head, and prays her take Some priceless jewel for her friendship's sake.
With sweetest influence a star of power Had joined the spotted Moon—at that blest hour To deck fair Uma many a noble dame And many a gentle maid assiduous came; And well she graced their toil, more brightly fair With feathery grass and wild flowers in her hair— A silken robe flowed free below her waist. Her sumptuous head a glittering arrow graced— So shines the young unclouded Moon at last. Greeting the Sun, its darksome season past. Sweet-scented Lodra dust and Sandal dyed The delicate beauties of the fair young bride. Veiled with a soft light robe: her tiring-girls Then led her to a chamber decked with pearls And paved with sapphires, where the lulling sound Of choicest music breathed divinely round. There o'er the Lady's limbs they poured by turns Streams of pure water from their golden urns. Fresh from the cooling bath the lovely Maid In fairest white her tender form arrayed— So opes the Kása all her shining flowers Lured from their buds by softly falling showers. Then to a court with canopies o'erhead A crowd of noble dames the Maiden led— A court for solemn rites, where gems and gold Adorn tlu> ])illars that the roof uphold.
There on a couch they set her with her face Turned toward the East—so lovely then the grace Of that dear Maid, so ravishing her smile, E'en her attendants turned to gaze awhile, For though the brightest gems around her lay, Her brighter beauty stole their eyes away. Through her long tresses one a flower-wreath wound, And one with fragrant grass her temples crowned, While o'er her head sweet clouds of incense rolled To dry and perfume every shining fold. Bright dyes of Saffron and the scented wood Adorned her beauty, till the Maiden stood Fairer than Ganga when the Love-birds play O'er sandy islets in her silvery bay. To what rare beauty shall her maids compare Her clear brow shaded by her glossy hair? Less dazzling pure the sacred Lotus shines Flecked by the thronging bees in dusky lines— Less bright the Moon, when a dark band of cloud Enhances beauties which it could not shroud. Behind her ear a head of barley drew The eye to gaze upon its golden hue, But then her cheek with glowing Saffron dyed To richer beauty called the glance aside; Though from those lips where Beauty's guerdon lay The vermeil tints were newly washed away. Yet o'er them, as she smiled, a ray was thrown Of quivering brightness that was all their own.
"Lay this dear foot upun thy lover's head Crowned with the Moon!"—the laughing maiden said.
Who dyed her Lady's feet—no word spake she, But beat her with her flower-wreath playfully. Then tiring-women took the jetty dye To guard, not deck, the beauty of her eye Whose languid half-shut glances might compare With Lotus leaves just opening to the air; And as fresh gems adorned her neck and arms, So quickly changing grew the Maiden's charms. Like some fair plant where bud succeeding bud Unfolds new beauty; or a silver flood Where gay birds follow quickly; or like Night, When crowding stars come forth in all their light. Oft as the mirror would her glance beguile She longed to meet her Lord's approving smile — Her tasteful skill the timid maid essays To win one smile of love, one word of praise.
The happy Mother took the golden dye And raised to hers young Uma's beaming eye— Then swelled her bosom with maternal pride As thus she decked her darling for a bride— Oh, she had longed to trace on that fair brow The nuptial line, yet scarce could mark it now! On Uma's rounded arm the woollen band Was fixt securely by the Nurse's hand— Blind with the tears that filled her swimming eye, In vain the Mother strove that band to tie. Spotless as curling foam-flakes stood she there, As yielding soft, as graceful and as fair— Or like the glory of an autumn night Robed by the full Moon in a veil of light.
Then at her Mother's hest, the Maid adored The spirit of each high ancestral Lord, Nor failed she next the noble Dames to greet, And give due honour to their reverend feet. They raised the Maiden as she bowed her head — " Thine be the fulness of his love! "—they said; Half of his being, blessing high as this Can add no rapture to her perfect bliss. Well-pleased Himálaya viewed the pomp and pride Meet for his daughter, meet for Siva's bride. Then sought the Hall with all his friends to wait The bridegroom's coming with a Monarch's state.
Meanwhile by Heavenly Matrons' care displayed Upon Kuvera's lofty mount were laid The ornaments of Siva, which of yore At his first nuptials Pura's conqueror wore; He laid his hand upon the dress, but how Shall robes so sad, so holy, grace him now?
His own dire vesture took a shape as fair As gentle bridegroom e'er could wish to wear— The withering scull that glazed the eye with dread, Shone a bright coronal to grace his head; That Elephant's hide the God had worn of old Was now a silken robe inwrought with gold; Ere this his body was with dust besprent. Soft unguent now it shed delightful scent; And that mid-eye which glittering like a star Shot the wild terror of its glance afar— So softly now its golden radiance beamed— A mark of glory on his forehead seemed.
His twining serpents, destined still to be The pride and honour of the Deity, Changed but their bodies—in each sparkling crest The blazing gems still shone their loveliest. What need of jewels on the brow of Him Who wears the Crescent Moon?—no spot may dim Its youthful beauty, e'en in light of day Shedding the glory of its quenchless ray.
Well-pleased the God in all his pride arrayed Saw his bright image mirrored in the blade Of the huge sword they brought; then calmly leant On Nandi's arm, and toward his Bull he went, Whose broad back covered with a tiger's hide, Was steep to climb as Mount Kailása's side, Yet the dread monster humbly shrank fur fear And bowed in reverence as his Lord drew near. The Matrons followed him, a saintly throng, Their ear-rings waving as they dashed along — Sweet faces, with such glories round them shed As made the air one lovely Lotus bed. On flew those bright Ones—Káli came behind, The skulls that decked her rattling in the wdnd: Like the dark rack that scuds across the sky, With herald Lightning and the Crane's shrill cry.
Hark! from the glorious bands that lead the way, Harp, drum, and pipe, and shrilling trumpet's bray, Burst through the sky upon the startled ear And tell the Gods the hour of worship 's near. They came; the Sun presents a silken shade Which Heaven's own artist for the God had made,
Gilding his brows, as though bright Ganga rolled Adown his holy head her waves of gold. She in her Goddess-shape divinely fair, And Yamuna, sweet River-Nymph, were there. Fanning their Lord, that fancy still might deem Swans waved their pinions round each Lady of the Stream. E'en Brahma came—Creator—Lord of Might,— And Vishnu glowing from the realms of light; "Ride on!" they cried, " thine, thine for ever be The strength, the glory, and the victory! " To swell his triumph that high blessing came Like holy oil upon the rising flame. In those Three Persons the one God was shown, Each First in place, each Last,—not one alone; Of Siva, Vishnu, Brahma, each may be First, second, third, among the Blessed Three. By Indra led, each World-upholding Lord With folded hands the mighty God adored,— In humble robes arrayed, the pomp and pride Of glorious Deity were laid aside; They signed to Nandi, and the favourite's hand Guided his eye upon the suppliant band. He spake to Vishnu, and on Indra smiled, To Brahma bowed—the Lotus' mystic child; On all the hosts of heaven his friendly eye Beamed duly welcome as they crowded nigh. The Seven Great Saints their blessings o'er him shed, And thus in answer, with a smile, he said: — "Hail, mighty Sages! hail, ye Sons of Light! My chosen Priests to celebrate this rite."
Now in sweet tones the Heavenly Minstrels tell His praise, beneath whose might Tripura fell; He moves to go; from his Moon-crest a ray Sheds quenchless light on his triumphant way. On through the air his swift Bull bore him well, Decked with the gold of many a tinkling bell; Tossing from time to time his head on high, Enwreathed with clouds as he flew racing by. As though in furious charge he had uptorn A bank of clay upon his mighty horn.
Swiftly they came where in its beauty lay The City subject to Himálaya's sway— No foeman's foot had ever trod those halls. No foreign bands encamped around the walls; Siva's bright glances fixed their eager hold On that fair City as with threads of gold. The God whose neck still gleams with cloudy blue Burst on the wondering people's upturned view. And on the earth descended, from the path His shafts once dinted in avenging wrath. Forth from the gates a noble army poured To do meet honour to the mighty Lord; With all his friends on Elephants of state The King of Mountains passed the City gate, So gaily decked, the Princes all were seen Like moving hills inwrapt in bowery green. As the full rushing of two streams that pour Beneath one bridge with loud tumultuous roar, So through the City's open gate streamed in Mountains and Gods with tumult and with din.
So glorious was the sight,—wonder and shame, When Siva bowed him, o'er the Monarch came; He knew not he had bent his lofty crest In reverent greeting to his heavenly guest. Himálaya, joying in the festive day, Before the immortal Bridegroom led the way Where heaps of gay flowers burying half the feet Lay breathing odours through the crowded street. Careless of all beside, each Lady's eye Must gaze on Siva as the troop sweeps by: One dark-eyed beauty will not stay to bind Her long black tresses, floating unconfined, Save by her little hand; her flowery crown Hanging; neglected and unfastened down. One from her maiden tore her foot away On which the dye, all wet and streaming, lay, And o'er the chamber rushing in her haste. Where'er she stepped, a crimson footprint traced. Another at the window takes her stand; One eye is dyed,—the pencil in her hand; Here runs an eager maid, and running, holds Loose and ungirt her flowing mantle's folds. Whilst, as she strives to close the parting vest. Its brightness gives new beauty to her breast. Oh! what a sight! the crowded windows there With eager faces! excellently fair. Like honied lilies—for their dark eyes fling Quick glances quivering like the wild bee's wing.
Onward in peerless glory Siva passed, Gay banners o'er his way their shadows cast—
Each palace dome, each pinnacle and height Catching new lustre from his crest of light. On swept the pageant,—on the God alone The eager glances of the dames were thrown; On his bright form they fed the rapturous gaze, And only turned to marvel and to praise: — "Oh, well and wisely, such a Lord to gain The Mountain- Maid endured the toil and pain; To be his slave were joy—but Oh, how blest The wife—the loved one—lying on his breast! Surely in vain, had not the Lord of Life Matched this fond bridegroom and this loving wife, Had been his wish to give the Worlds a mould Of perfect beauty!—falsely have they told How the young Flower-armed God was burnt by fire At the red flash of Siva's vengeful ire— No,—jealous Love a fairer form confessed And cast away his own, no more the loveliest. How glorious is the Mountain King, how proud Earth's stately pillar, girt about with cloud! Now will he lift his lofty head more high Knit close to Siva by this holy tie."
Such words of praise from many a bright-eyed dame On Siva's ear with soothing witchery came: Through the broad streets mid loud acclaim he rode, And reached the palace where the King abode; As leaves the Sun a cloud at eventide, There he descended from his monster's side. Leaning on Vishnu's arm he passed the door Where mighty Brahma entered in before:
Next Indra came, and all the Host of Heaven, The noble Saints and those great Sages seven; Then led they Siva to a royal seat, Fair gifts they brought, for such a bridgegroom meet With all due rites, the honey and the milk, Rich gems were offered and two robes of silk.
At length by skilful Chamberlains arrayed They led the lover to the royal Maid. Thus doth the Moon disturb the tranquil rest Of Ocean glittering with his foamy crest, And leads him on, his proud waves swelling o'er, To leap with kisses on the clasping shore. He gazed on Uma;—from his lotus eyes Flashed out the rapture of his proud surprise, Then calm the current of his spirit lay Like the world basking in an Autumn day. They met; and true love's momentary shame O'er the blest bridegroom and his darling came; Eye looked to eye—but quivering as they met. Scarce dared to trust the rapturous gazing yet. In the God's hand the Priest has duly laid The radiant fingers of the Mountain-Maid, Bright, as if Love with his dear sprays of red Had sought that refuge in his hour of dread; From hand to hand the soft infection stole, Till each confessed it in the inmost soul. Fire filled his veins—with joy she trembled; such The magic influence of that thrilling touch!
How grows their beauty, when two lovers stand Eye fixt on eye—hand fondly linkt in hand!
Then how, unblamed, may mortal minstrel dare To paint in words the beauty of that pair! Around the fire in solemn rite they trod— The lovely Lady and the glorious God; Like Day and starry Midnight when they meet In the broad plains at lofty Meru's feet. Thrice at the bidding of the Priest they came With swimming eyes around the holy flame; Then at his word the Bride in order due Into the blazing fire the parched grain threw, And toward her face the scented smoke she drew, While softly wreathing o'er her cheek it hung, And round her ears in flower- like beauty clung. As o'er the incense the sweet Lady stooped, The ear of barley from her tresses drooped, And rested on her cheek, beneath the eye Still brightly beaming with the jetty dye.
"This flame be witness of your wedded life,— Be just, thou Husband, and be true, thou Wife! " Such was the priestly blessing on the Bride,— Eager she listened, as the Earth when dried By parching Summer Suns drinks deeply in The first soft droppings when the rains begin.
"Look, gentle Uma," cried her Lord, "afar Seest thou the brightness of yon polar star? Like that unchanging ray thy faith must shine!" Sobbing, she whispered, "Yes, for ever thine!"'
The rite is o'er—her joyful parents now At Brahma's feet in duteous reverence bow:
Then to fair Uma spake the gracious Power Who sits enthroned upon the Lotus flower:— "O beautiful Lady, happy shalt thou he, And hero children shall be born of thee!" Then looked in silence,—vain the hope to bless The Bridegroom, Siva, with more happiness!
Then from the Altar, as prescribed of old, They turned, and rested upon seats of gold: And, as the Holy Books for men ordain, Were sprinkled duly with the moistened gTain. High o'er their heads sweet Beauty's Queen displayed Upon a stem of reed a cool green shade, While the young Lotus-leaves of which 'twas made Seemed as they glistened to the wondering view All richly pearled with drops of beady dew. In twofold language on each glorious head The Queen of Speech her richest blessings shed; In strong, pure, godlike utterance for his ear. To her in liquid tones, soft, beautifully clear.
Now for awhile they gaze where Maids divine In graceful play the expressive dance entwine. Whose eloquent motions, with an Actor's art, Show to the life the passions of the heart.
The rite was ended; then the Heavenly band Prayed Siva, raising high the suppliant hand:— "Now, for the dear sake of thy lovely Bride, Have pity on the gentle God"—they cried— "Whose tender body thy fierce wrath has slain: Give all his honour, all his might again!"
Well pleased, he smiled,—the gracious answer gave,
Siva himself now yields him Káma's slave.— When duly given, the Great will ne'er despise
The gentle pleading of the Good and Wise.
Now have they left the wedded Pair alone,
And Siva takes her hand within his own
To lead his darling to the bridal bower,
Decked with bright gold and all her sumptuous dower.
She blushes sweetly as her maidens there
Look with arch smiles and glances on the Pair,
And for one moment, while the damsels stay,
From him she loves turns her dear face away.