Ereenia lifted Kalyal from the bank,
He placed her in the Vessel of the
Gods.
The Vessel animate with thought
Spreads like a Nautilus its living
sail
And glides along the sky.
Aright, aloft, in wavy tide
The clouds of morning roll away,
The winds that swept in wild career
Grow calm along the path.
The winds that loitering laggd in
heaven
Revive before the living bark
And swell & sing beneath the
sail.
That living Bark was shaped
Like the Primeval Egg
When Brama self existent, from its
womb
Issuing had hung its arch aloft
To form the vault of heaven.
A milky white its hue.
The dews that stood unsullied on its
side
Seemd there as pearls opaque.
From end to end the living sail
Oercanopied the Maid,
Thin as a bubble, clear &
colourless
Save where it caught & tinged the
rays of morn.
Smooth as the Swan when not a breeze
Raises one wrinkle on the glassy
lake,
Thro air & sunshine saild
The Vessel of the Gods.
Recumbent there the Maiden glides
along,
How swift she feels not, tho the Eagles
wing
Had flaggd in flight behind.
No fear had Kalyal, for the gales
Which wander oer the heights of
Hemacost,
So heald & tranquillized her
heart
Fear could not enter there.
For sure she deemd the pang of death was
past,
And that most beautiful of forms
Who saild beside her was her guide to
heaven.
Eye hath not seen nor thought conceived
More perfect shape, more lovely
beautiful
Than he who floats beside on steady
wing.
Ereenias form was as the form of man,
His wings were plumeless, from the
neck
Down to the ankle spread their long
expanse,
Their colour like the dark blue sky
When the Moon shines serene.
Or like the azure deep
Beneath the blaze of day.
The pliant bone that thro the membrane
branchd
Like veins of interwoven silver
shone,
Or shells of pearly hue.
Now with soft stroke he fans the buoyant
air
Now glides with wings that move not
Yet swift he speeds along
As the Suns Chariot Wheels career thro
heaven.
Thro air & sunshine sails
The Vessel of the Gods.
Far far beneath her lies
The gross & heavy atmosphere of
earth.
She breathes the Sorgon gales,
And every breath is joy.
Swift to its haven speeds the living
Bark,
Swift as the falling meteor it
alights
And gently as evening dews
The bend not the hair-bell-stem.
Daughter of Earth alight, Ereenia
cried,
Lo here thy place of rest!
He furld his azure wings,
The happy Kalyal knew not where to
gaze.
Her eyes in restless pleasure roam,
Now fixd upon the lovely Grenthuver
Now on that fair abode.
It was a marble cavern, high above
The rocky mountain rose,
The floor was marble, marble were the
side
Here veind with silver, here with growing
gold.
Here rest in peace! Ereenia cried,
And I will guard thee; feeble as I am
I trust the Rajah will not harm thee
here.
Kalyal
Alas thou fearest him,
Immortal as thou art thou fearest
him!
I thought that death had saved me from
his power.
Not even the dead are safe!
Ereenia
Long years of life & happiness
Fair maiden yet be thine!
From death have I preserved thee, so from
ills
Dwell here by me secured.
Kalyal
Not me alone O gentle Deveta!
I have a Father suffering upon earth,
A persecuted, wretched, poor, good
man,
For whose strange misery
There is no human help.
And none but I dare comfort him
Beneath Kehamas curse.
O gentle Deveta
Have mercy upon him!
Ereenia
That boon I dare not answer as I
would,
Plead thou thyself to Indra.
Then to the Garden of the Sorgon God
Ereenia led the Maid.
In the mid garden towered one giant
Tree
Whose thousand boughs at every leaf
Imbibed the dews of Heaven.
Its root was in the rock.
A Lake spread round beneath
The thousand branches of its parent
Tree.
For still in one perpetual shower,
Like diamond drops from every leaf
Etherial waters fell
Forth winding from that wonderous
Lake
A thousand rivers watered Paradise.
Full to the brim, yet never
overflown,
They coold the gales that curld
Their silver surface, & the gales
bore back
Their vapours to the Tree.
And thus the etherial Rivers ran
For ever renovate, yet still the
same.
[1]
x x x x x x x x x x
The remainder of the Book is still in the
World of Ideas. up in some ganglion or chamber of this poor
medullary substance of mine – which aches most damnably at
this present writing – So God help you –
R S.
You tell me nothing of your
fathers removal – as if I did not want to know
something of his local habitation & its name.
I am exceedingly delighted with the
jealousy displayed by his Majesty [2] for the
Liberty of the Press! [3] God a
mercy what an odd world do we live in! Huzza! God save
the King! the Liberty of the Press <forever> &
no Popery nor Wooden Shoes [4] – By the by
the Press Gang lately have abused the Liberty of the
Press sadly.
