Collected Poems

Radha's Appeal

(Imitated from the Bengali of Chundidas)

O love, what more shall I, shall Radha speak,
    Since mortal words are weak?
        In life, in death,
    In being and in breath
No other lord but thee can Radha seek.

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About thy feet the mighty net is wound
    Wherein my soul they bound;
        Myself resigned
    To servitude my mind;
My heart than thine no sweeter slavery found.

I, Radha, thought; through the three worlds my gaze
    I sent in wild amaze;
        I was alone.
    None called me "Radha!", none;
I saw no hand to clasp, no friendly face.

I sought my father's house; my father's sight
    Was empty of delight;
        No tender friend
    Her loving voice would lend;
My cry came back unanswered from the night.

Therefore to this sweet sanctuary I brought
    My chilled and shuddering thought.
        Ah, suffer, sweet,
    To thy most faultless feet
That I should cling unchid; ah, spurn me not!

Spurn me not, dear, from thy beloved breast,
    A woman weak, unblest.
        Thus let me cling,
    Thus, thus about my king
And thus remain caressing and caressed.

I, Radha, thought; without my life's sweet lord,
    —Strike now thy mightiest chord—
        I had no power
    To live one simple hour;
His absence slew my soul as with a sword.

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If one brief moment steal thee from mine eyes,
    My heart within me dies.
        As girls who keep
    The treasures of the deep,
I string thee round my neck and on my bosom prize.