Indian Poetry

Indian Poetry

Indian Poetry

Indian Poetry

Excerpt

“The sky is clouded; and the wood resembles
        The sky, thick-arched with black Tamâla boughs;
O Radha, Radha! take this Soul, that trembles
      In life’s deep midnight, to Thy golden house.”
So Nanda spoke,—and, led by Radha’s spirit,
      The feet of Krishna found the road aright;
Wherefore, in bliss which all high hearts inherit,
      Together taste they Love’s divine delight.

He who wrote these things for thee,
   Of the Son of Wassoodee . . .

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