Page:TheBirth of the War-God.djvu/27

Father of fathers, God of gods art thou,
Creator, highest, hearer of the vow!
Thou art the sacrifice, and Thou the priest,
Thou, he that eateth—Thou, the holy feast;
Thou art the knowledge which by Thee is taught,
The mighty thinker, and the highest thought!"

⁠Pleased with their truthful praise, his favouring eye
He turned upon the Dwellers in the Sky,
While from four mouths his words in gentle flow
Come welling softly to assuage their woe:—
"Welcome! glad welcome, princes! ye who hold
Your lofty sovereignties ordained of old—
But why so mournful? what has dimmed your light?
Why shine your faces less divinely bright?
Like stars that pour forth weaker, paler gleams.
When the fair Moon with brighter radiance beams.
say, in vain doth mighty Indra bear
The thunderbolt of Heaven, unused to spare?
Vritra, the furious fiend, 'twas strong to slay.
Why dull and blunted are its darts to-day?
See, Varun's noose hangs idly on his arm.
Like some fell serpent quelled by magic charm;
Weak is Kuvera's hand—his arm no more
Wields the dread mace it once so proudly bore;
But like a tree whose boughs are lopped away,
It tells of piercing woe, and dire dismay.
In days of yore how Yama's sceptre shone!
Fled are its glories, all its terrors gone;
Despised and useless as a quenched brand
All idly now it marks the yielding sand.