Swift glides the Ship with gentle motion

Across that calm and quiet ocean, That glassy sea, which seem'd to be The mirror of tranquillity. Their pleasant passage soon was o'er ; The Ship hath reach'd its destined shore A level belt of ice, which bound, As with an adamantine mound, The waters of the sleeping Ocean round. Strange forms were on the strand Of earth-born spirits slain before their time; Who, wandering over sea, and sky, and land, Had so fulfill'd their term; and now were met Upon this icy belt, a motley band, Waiting their summons at the appointed hour, When each before the Judgment-seat must stand,

And hear his doom from Baly's righteous power.

4.

Foul with habitual crimes, a hideous crew Were there, the race of rapine and of blood. Now, having overpass'd the mortal flood, Their own deformity they knew,

And knew the meed that to their deeds was due. Therefore in fear and agony they stood, Expecting when the Evil Messenger Among them should appear. But with their fear A hope was mingled now;

O'er the dark shade of guilt a deeper hue

It threw, and gave a fiercer character To the wild eye, and lip, and sinful brow. They hoped that soon Kehama would subdue The inexorable God, and seize his throne, Reduce the infernal World to his command, And, with his irresistible right hand, Redeem them from the vaults of Padalon.

5.

Apart from these, a milder company, The victims of offences not their own, Look'd when the appointed Messenger, should

come;

Gather'd together some, and some alone Brooding in silence on their future doom. Widows whom, to their husbands' funeral fire, Force or strong error led, to share the pyre, As to their everlasting marriage-bed; And babes, by sin unstain'd,

Whom erring parents vow'd

To Ganges, and the holy stream profaned With that strange sacrifice, rite unordain'd By Law, by sacred Nature unallow'd; Others more hapless in their destiny, Scarce having first inhaled their vital breath, Whose cradles from some tree Unnatural hands suspended, Then left, till gentle Death, Coming like Sleep, their feeble moanings ended; Or for his prey the ravenous Kite descended; Or marching like an army from their caves, The Pismires blacken'd o'er, then, bleach'd and bare,

Left their unharden'd bones to fall asunder there.

6.

Innocent Souls! thus set so early free
From sin, and sorrow, and mortality,
Their spotless spirits all-creating Love
Received into its universal breast.

Yon blue serene above
Was their domain; clouds pillow'd them to rest;
The Elements on them like nurses tended,
And with their growth ethereal substance blended.
Less pure than these is that strange Indian bird,
Who never dips in earthly streams her bill,
But, when the sound of coming showers is heard,
Looks up, and from the clouds receives her fill.
Less pure the footless fowl of Heaven, that never
Rest upon earth, but on the wing forever
Hovering o'er flowers, their fragrant food inhale,
Drink the descending dew upon its way,
And sleep aloft while floating on the gale.

7.

And thus these innocents, in yonder sky, Grow and are strengthen'd, while the allotted years

Perform their course; then hitherward they fly,
Being free from moral taint, so free from fears,
A joyous band, expecting soon to soar
To Indra's happy spheres,

And mingle with the blessed company
Of heavenly spirits there for evermore.

8.

A Gulf profound surrounded
This icy belt; the opposite side
With highest rocks was bounded,

But where their heads they hide,

Or where their base is founded,

None could espy. Above all reach of sight They rose; the second Earth was on their height; Their feet were fix'd in everlasting night.

9.

So deep the Gulf, no eye

Could plumb its dark profundity,
Yet all its depth must try; for this the road
To Padalon, and Yamen's dread abode.

And from below continually
Ministrant Demons rose and caught
The Souls whose hour was come;
Then, with their burden fraught,
Plunged down, and bore them to receive their doom.

10.

Then might be seen who went in hope, and who Trembled to meet the meed

Of many a foul misdeed, as wild they threw
Their arms retorted from the Demons' grasp,
And look'd around, all eagerly, to seek
For help, where help was none; and strove for aid
To clasp the nearest shade;

Yea, with imploring looks and horrent shriek,
Even from one Demon to another bending,
With hands extending,
Their mercy they essay'd.

Still from the verge they strain,

And from the dreadful Gulf avert their eyes, In vain; down plunge the Demons, and their cries Feebly, as down they sink, from that profound arise.

11.

What heart of living man could undisturb'd Bear sight so sad as this! What wonder there If Kailyal's lip were blanch'd with inmost dread! The chill which from that icy belt Struck through her, was less keen than what she felt

With her heart's blood through every limb dispread. Close to the Glendoveer she clung,

And clasping round his neck her trembling hands, She closed her eyes, and there in silence hung.

12.

Then to Ladurlad said the Glendoveer, These Demons, whom thou seest, the ministers Of Yamen, wonder to behold us here;

But for the dead they come, and not for us; Therefore, albeit they gaze upon thee thus, Have thou no fear.

A little while thou must be left alone, Till I have borne thy daughter down, And placed her safely by the throne Of him who keeps the Gate of Padalon.

13.

Then, taking Kailyal in his arms, he said, Be of good heart, Beloved! it is I Who bear thee. Saying this, his wings he spread, Sprung upward in the sky, and poised his flight, Then plunged into the Gulf, and sought the World of Night.

XXII.

THE GATE OF PADALON.

1.

THE strong foundations of this inmost Earth
Rest upon Padalon. That icy Mound,
Which girt the mortal Ocean round,
Reach'd the profound, —

Ice in the regions of the upper air,
Crystal midway, and adamant below,

Whose strength sufficed to bear

The weight of all this upper World of ours, And with its rampart closed the Realm of Woe. Eight gates hath Padalon; eight heavenly Powers Have them in charge, each alway at his post, Lest from their penal caves the accursed host, Maugre the might of Baly and the God, Should break, and carry ruin all abroad.

2.

Those gates stand ever open, night and day,
And Souls of mortal men
Forever throng the way.

Some from the dolorous den,
Children of sin and wrath, return no more:
They, fit companions of the Spirits accurs'd,
Are doom'd, like them in baths of fire immers'd,
Or weltering upon beds of molten ore,
Or stretch'd upon the brazen floor,
Are fasten'd down with adamantine chains;
While on their substance, inconsumable,
Leeches of fire forever hang and pull,
And worms of fire forever gnaw their food,
That, still renew'd,
Freshens forever their perpetual pains.

3.

Others there were whom Baly's voice condemn'd,
By long and painful penance, to atone
Their fleshly deeds. Them from the Judgment
Throne,

Dread Azyoruca, where she sat involved In darkness as a tent, received, and dealt To each the measure of his punishment; Till, in the central springs of fire, the Will Impure is purged away; and the freed soul,

Thus fitted to receive a second birth, Imbodied once again, revisits Earth.

4.

But they whom Baly's righteous voice absolved, And Yamen, viewing with benignant eye, Dismiss'd to seek their heritage on high, How joyfully they leave this gloomy bourn, The dread sojourn

Of Guilt and twin-born Punishment and Woe, And wild Remorse, here link'd with worse Despair! They to the eastern Gate rejoicing go: The Ship of Heaven awaits their coming there; And on they sail, greeting the blessed light Through realms of upper air,

Bound for the Swerga once; but now no more Their voyage rests upon that happy shore, Since Indra, by the dreadful Rajah's might Compell'd, hath taken flight;

On to the second World their way they wend, And there, in trembling hope, await the doubtful end.

5.

For still in them doth hope predominate, Faith's precious privilege, when higher Powers Give way to fear in these portentous hours.

Behold the Wardens eight Each silent at his gate Expectant stands; they turn their anxious eyes Within, and listening to the dizzy din Of mutinous uproar, each in all his hands Holds all his weapons, ready for the fight. For, hark! what clamorous cries Upon Kehama, for deliverance, call! Come, Rajah they exclaim; too long we groan In torments. Come, Deliverer! yonder throne Awaits thee. Now, Kehama! Rajah, now! Earthly Almighty, wherefore tarriest thou?Such were the sounds that rung, in wild uproar, O'er all the echoing vaults of Padalon; And as the Asuras from the brazen floor, Struggling against their fetters, strove to rise, Their clashing chains were heard, and shrieks and

But as he thus departed,

The Maid, who at Neroodi's feet was lying,
Like one intranced or dying,

Recovering strength from sudden terror, started;
And, gazing after him, with straining sight
And straining arms, she stood,
As if in attitude

To win him back from flight.

Yea, she had shaped his name

For utterance, to recall and bid him stay, Nor leave her thus alone; but virtuous shame Repress'd the unbidden sounds upon their way; And calling faith to aid,

Even in this fearful hour, the pious Maid
Collected courage, till she seem'd to be
Calm and in hope; such power hath piety.
Before the Giant Keeper of the Gate
She cross'd her patient arms, and at his feet
Prepar'd to meet

The awful will of Fate with equal mind,
She took her seat resign'd.

11.

Even the stern trouble of Neroodi's brow
Relax'd as he beheld the valiant Maid.
Hope, long unfelt till now,
Rose in his heart reviving, and a smile

Dawn'd in his brightening countenance, the while He gazed on her with wonder and delight. The blessing of the Powers of Padalon, Virgin, be on thee! said the admiring God; And blessed be the hour that gave thee birth, Daughter of Earth!

For thou to this forlorn abode hast brought Hope, who too long hath been a stranger here. And surely for no lamentable lot,

Nature, that erreth not,

To thee that heart of fortitude hath given, Those eyes of purity, that face of love :If thou beest not the inheritrix of Heaven, There is no truth above.

12.

Thus as Neroodi spake, his brow severe Shone with an inward joy; for sure he thought, When Seeva sent so fair a creature here, In this momentous hour,

Erelong the World's deliverance would be wrought,

And Padalon escape the Rajah's power. With pious mind the Maid, in humble guise Inclined, received his blessing silently, And raised her grateful eyes

A moment, then again Abased them at his presence. Hark! on high The sound of coming wings! — her anxious ears Have caught the distant sound. Ereenia brings His burden down! Upstarting from her seat, How joyfully she rears

Her eager head! and scarce upon the ground Ladurlad's giddy feet their footing found, When with her trembling arms she clasp'd him round.

No word of greeting,

No other sign of joy at that strange meeting;

Expectant of their fate,
Silent, and hand in hand,
Before the Infernal Gate,

The Father and his pious Daughter stand.

13.

Then to Neroodi said the Glendoveer,
No Heaven-born Spirit e'er hath visited
This region drear and dread, but I, the first
Who tread your World accurs'd.

Lord of the Gate, to whom these realms are known,
Direct our fated way to Yamen's throne.

14.

Bring forth my Chariot, Carmala! quoth then

The Keeper of the way.
It was the Car wherein,
On Yamen's festal day,

When all the Powers of Hell attend their King,
Yearly to Yamenpur did he repair
To pay his homage there.

Poised on a single wheel, it mov'd along,
Instinct with motion; by what wondrous skill
Compact, no human tongue could tell,
Nor human wit devise; but on that wheel,
Moving or still,

As if with life indued, The Car miraculous supported stood.

15.

Then Carmala brought forth two mantles, white
As the swan's breast, and bright as mountain snow,
When from the wintry sky

The sun, late rising, shines upon the height,
And rolling vapors fill the vale below.
Not without pain the unaccustom'd sight
That brightness could sustain;

For neither mortal stain,

Nor parts corruptible, remain,

Nor aught that time could touch, or force destroy,
In that pure web whereof the robes were wrought;
So long had it in tenfold fires been tried,
And blanch'd, and to that brightness purified.
Apparell'd thus, alone,

Children of Earth, Neroodi cried,
In safety may ye pass to Yamen's throne.
Thus only can your living flesh and blood
Endure the passage of the fiery flood.

16.

Of other frame, O son of Heaven, art thou!
Yet hast thou now to go

Through regions which thy heavenly mould will try.

Glories unutterably bright, I know, And beams intense of empyrean light, Thine eye divine can bear; but fires of woe, The sight of torments, and the cry Of absolute despair,

Might not these things dismay thee on thy flight, And thy strong pennons flag and fail thee there? Trust not thy wings, celestial though thou art, Nor thy good heart, which horror might assail, And pity quail,

Pity in these abodes of no avail; But take thy seat this mortal pair beside, And Carmala the infernal Car will guide. Go, and may happy end your way betide! So, as he spake, the self-moved Car roll'd on; And lo! they pass the Gate of Padalon.

XXIII.

PADALON.

1.

WHOEVER hath loved, with venturous step, to tread The chambers dread

Of some deep cave, and seen his taper's beam
Lost in the arch of darkness overhead,
And mark'd its gleam,

Playing afar upon the sunless stream,
Where from their secret bed,
And course unknown and inacccessible,
The silent waters well,

Whoe'er hath trod such caves of endless night, He knows, when measuring back the gloomy way, With what delight refresh'd, his eye

Perceives the shadow of the light of day, Through the far portal slanting, where it falls Dimly reflected on the watery walls; How heavenly seems the sky; And how, with quicken'd feet, he hastens up, Eager again to greet

The living World and blessed sunshine there, And drink, as from a cup

Of joy, with thirsty lips, the open air.

2.

Far other light than that of day there shone
Upon the travellers, entering Padalon.
They too in darkness enter'd on their way,
But far before the Car,

A glow, as of a fiery furnace light,
Fill'd all before them. 'Twas a light which made
Darkness itself appear

A thing of comfort, and the sight, dismay'd, Shrunk inward from the molten atmosphere. Their way was through the adamantine rock Which girt the World of Woe; on either side Its massive walls arose, and overhead Arch'd the long passage; onward as they ride, With stronger glare the light around them spread,

And lo! the regions dread,

The World of Woe before them, opening wide.

3.

There rolls the fiery flood,

Girding the realms of Padalon around.
A sea of flame it seem'd to be,
Sea without bound;

For neither mortal nor immortal sight Could pierce across through that intensest light. A single rib of steel,

Keen as the edge of keenest cimeter, Spann'd this wide gulf of fire. The infernal Car

Roll'd to the Gulf, and, on its single wheel Self-balanced, rose upon that edge of steel. Red-quivering float the vapors overhead; The fiery gulf, beneath them spread, Tosses its billowing blaze with rush and roar; Steady and swift the self-moved Chariot went, Winning the long ascent,

Then, downward rolling, gains the farther shore.

4.

But, oh! what sounds and sights of woe,
What sights and sounds of fear,
Assail the mortal travellers here!
Their way was on a causey straight and wide,
Where penal vaults on either side were seen,
Ranged like the cells wherein

Those wondrous winged alchemists infold
Their stores of liquid gold.

Thick walls of adamant divide
The dungeons; and from yonder circling flood,
Off-streams of fire through secret channels glide,
And wind among them, and in each provide
An everlasting food

Of rightful torments for the accursed brood.

5.

These were the rebel race, who, in their might
Confiding impiously, would fain have driven
The deities supreme from highest Heaven;
But by the Suras, in celestial fight,
Opposed and put to flight,
Here, in their penal dens, the accursed crew,
Not for its crime, but for its failure, rue
Their wild ambition. Yet again they long
The contest to renew,

And wield their arms again in happier hour;
And with united power,

Following Kehama's triumph, to press on From World to World, and Heaven to Heaven, and Sphere

To Sphere, till Hemakoot shall be their own,
And Meru Mount, and Indra's Swerga-Bowers,
And Brama's region, where the heavenly Hours
Weave the vast circle of his age-long day.
Even over Veeshnoo's empyreal seat
They trust the Rajah shall extend their sway,
And that the seven-headed Snake, whereon
The strong Preserver sets his conquering feet,
Will rise and shake him headlong from his throne,
When, in their irresistible array,

Amid the Milky Sea they force their way.
Even higher yet their frantic thoughts aspire;
Yea, on their beds of torment as they lie,

The highest, holiest Seeva, they defy,
And tell him they shall have anon their day,
When they will storm his realm, and seize Mount
Calasay.
6.

Such impious hopes torment

Their raging hearts, impious and impotent; And now, with unendurable desire And lust of vengeance, that, like inward fire, Doth aggravate their punishment, they rave Upon Kehama; him the accursed rout Acclaim; with furious cries and maddening shout They call on him to save; Kehama! they exclaim;

Thundering the dreadful echo rolls about, And Hell's whole vault repeats Kehama's name.

7.

Over these dens of punishment, the host Of Padalon maintain eternal guard, Keeping upon the walls their vigilant ward. At every angle stood

A watch-tower, the decurion Demon's post, Where raised on high he view'd with sleepless eye His trust, that all was well. And over these, Such was the perfect discipline of Hell, — Captains of fifties and of hundreds held Authority, each in his loftier tower; And chiefs of legions over them had power; And thus all Hell with towers was girt around. Aloft the brazen turrets shone In the red light of Padalon; And on the walls between, Dark moving, the infernal Guards were seen, Gigantic Demons, pacing to and fro;