So thought the king, and on his brow
The beads of anguish spread,
And Sindhu, fully conscious now,
The anguish plainly read.
"What dost thou fear, O mighty king?
For sure a king thou art!
Why should thy bosom anguish wring?
No crime was in thine heart!
Unwittingly the deed was done;
It is my destiny,
O fear not thou, but pity one
Whose fate is thus to die.
No curses, no!—I bear no grudge,
Not thou my blood hast spilt,
Lo! here before the unseen Judge,
Thee I absolve from guilt.
The iron, red-hot as it burns,
Burns those that touch it too,
Not such my nature,—for it spurns,
Thank God, the like to do.