Oh, Khristna, I am coming,
I can no more delay.
"My heart has flown to join thee,"
How shall my footsteps stay?
Beloved, such thoughts have peril;
The wish is in my mind
That I had fired the jungle,
And left no leaf behind,—
Burnt all bamboos to ashes,
And made their music mute,—
To save thee from the magic
Of Khristna and his flute.
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