St. Paul daily globe., 1891-06-22
AN IDYL OF DELHI.

''Oyer my grave let the green grass grow
1t was the prayer of an emperor's bride
Uttered three hundred years ago;
Thus she pleaded before she died,
"Oyer my grave let the green grass growP
Sick TO death in the hushed hareem
AkbIrs faVorite child-wife Law.
'Kismetn murmered the chief Hakeem,
Stroking his beard-''she will die today,
Allah is great and his willSupremep'
Close by the lattice, open wide,
Her golden-canopied couch was set;
Under the balcony flowed the tide
OF Jumua's river, whose waters met,
Lapping the palace marble side.
And as she lay her Iistless eve
Fell, through the easements carven frame,
On slender minarets glittering high
on mosques with their crescents all ahame
And domes that dazzled beneath the sky.
The emperor sat on his throne of state,
Silent, terrible, feared by all.
Yet how little, whom men call Great
Waiting here to obey the call
Of that dread Monarch who will not wait.
Suddenly came from an inner room
trembling messenger, ashen-hued,
Fearing to utter the tale of doom;
Emperor, mighty, and just, and good
SlGy thy slave! but deign to come"
Through he zenana's guarded door
Passed he emperor drawing his breath
Thrice he paused on The marble floor
On the an nte-roOm of the place of Death:
AlIdu. lE GiltC, -DQl j uDu LflcSL me sore
Then he entered. Down to the ground
Bowed chief Eunuch and chief Hakeem,
Womenfolk gathered their wells around
Slaves SUNK back. In the hushed bareem
Never whisper. never sound.
There on the great gold-canopied bed
Akhars childiess child wife lay
Slowly he came and bowed his head
And his bosom heaved, and he turned
away;
''Allaho Akbar!''-was all he said.
At the first sound of his voice she awoke.
Lo! the emperor standing by;
A wan smile oyer her features broke
The light came back 10 her listless eye;
She caught his hand in her own and spoke.
30, my lover and o, my lord
y. my husband, and O, my king
Pass me, kaiser-i-hind, your word
Grant me, beloved this little thing
Bury Inc under the green grass sward.
Daughter of a Rajpoot race,
Saved from death By fortune rare,
Favor found in my liege S face.
Chosen was thy couch to share
All, my sorrow and my disgrace
STERILE barren, unfruitful clay.
That am, whom the Gods have cursed,
Under the green grass every day
Wives are laid who have born and nursed
Sons to thy slaves. am less than they.
Raise no monument to my wo
Hide my shame, my affliction screen.
Let not the after-ages know
Mine is the tomb of a childish Queen
Over my grave let the green grass grow"
Three great centuries suns have set;
Dust is the Emperor. dust his bride
Earth of the common earth And vet
Her humility and his pride
Each have righteous ending met.
For infidel feet have deiled his shrine.
Whose pile is reared near the marble Tai:
Over the glory of Timour's line
registering troops of the British Raj
Have stabbed their horses and tossed their
wine.
But near Delhi-the sacred care
of Priesthood pious, and proud and great
carved IN marble, beyond compare
Exquisite, wonderful. delicate.
Studded with precious stones and rare
Stands shrine. From a shell of snow
Springs, and has sprung from the years OF
yore.
Grass OF the field. On the tomb below
Craven this legend-nothing more:
over my grave let the green grass growr'
Herbert Compton i'll Maemillan's Magaziua