Poets of John Company. Theodore Oliver Douglas Dunn

Speak not of fate: Ah! change the theme,

       And talk of odours, talk of wine,

       Talk of the flowers that round us bloom:

       'Tis all a cloud, 'tis all a dream;

       To love and joy thy thoughts confine,

       Nor hope to pierce the sacred gloom.

       Beauty has such resistless power,

       That even the chaste Egyptian dame

       Sigh'd for the blooming Hebrew boy;

       For her how fatal was the hour,

       When to the banks of Nilus came

       A youth so lovely and so coy.

      ​

      But ah! sweet maid, my counsel hear

       (Youth should attend when those advise

       Whom long experience renders sage):

       While musick charms the ravish'd ear;

       While sparkling cups delight our eyes,

       Be gay; and scorn the frowns of age.

       What cruel answer have I heard?

       And yet, by heaven, I love thee still:

       Can aught be cruel from thy lip?

       Yet say, how fell that bitter word

       From lips which streams of sweetness fill,

       Which nought but drops of honey sip?

       Go boldly forth, my simple lay,

       Whose accents flow with artless ease.

       Like orient pearls at random strung:

       Thy notes are sweet, the damsels say;

       But O! far sweeter, if they please

       The nymph for whom these notes are sung.

      ​

A Hymn to Narayena.

       Table of Contents

      Spirit of Spirits, who, through ev'ry part

      Of space expanded and of endless time,

      Beyond the stretch of lab'ring thought sublime,

      Badst uproar into beauteous order start.

      Before Heav'n was, Thou art:

       Ere spheres beneath us roll'd or spheres above.

      Ere earth in firmamental ether hung,

      Thou satst alone; till, through thy mystic Love,

      Things unexisting to existence sprung,

      And grateful descant sung.

      ​

      What first impell'd thee to exert thy might?

      Goodness unlimited. What glorious light

      Thy pow'r directed? Wisdom without bound.

      What prov'd it first? Oh! guide my fancy right,

      Oh raise from cumbrous ground

      My soul in rapture drown'd,

      That fearless it may soar on wings of fire;

       For thou, who only knowst, Thou only canst inspire.

       Wrapt in eternal solitary shade,

      Th' impenetrable gloom of light intense,

      Impervious, inaccessible, immense.

      Ere spirits were infus'd or forms display'd,

      BREHM his own Mind survey'd,

       As mortal eyes (thus finite we compare

      With infinite) in smoothest mirrors gaze:

      Swift, at his look, a shape supremely fair

      Leap'd into being with a boundless blaze.

      That fifty suns might daze.

       Primeval Maya was the Goddess nam'd.

      Who to her sire, with Love divine inflam'd,

      A casket gave with rich Ideas fill'd.

       From which this gorgeous Universe he fram'd;

      For, when th' Almighty will'd.

      Unnumbered worlds to build.

      From Unity diversified he sprang,

       While gay Creation laugh'd, and procreant Nature rang.

       First an all-potent all-pervading sound

      Bade flow the waters—and the waters flow'd,

      Exulting in their measureless abode.

      Diffusive, multitudinous, profound,

      Above, beneath, around;

       Then o'er the vast expanse primordial wind

      Breath'd gently, till a lucid bubble rose,

      Which grew in perfect shape an Egg refin'd:

      Created substance no such lustre shows,

      Earth no such beauty knows.

      ​

      Above the warring waves it danc'd elate,

      Till from its bursting shell with lovely state

      A form cerulean flutter'd o'er the deep.

      Brightest of beings, greatest of the great:

      Who, not as mortals steep

      Their eyes in dewy sleep,

       But heav'nly-pensive on the Lotus lay,

       That blossom'd at his touch and shed a golden ray.

       Hail, primal Blossom! hail empyreal gem!

      KEMEL, or PEDMA, or whate'er high name

      Delight thee, say, what four-form'd Godhead came,

      With graceful stole and beamy diadem,

      Forth from thy verdant stem?

       Full-gifted BREHMA! Rapt in solemn thought

      He stood, and round his eyes fire-darting threw:

      But, whilst his viewless origin he sought,

      One plain he saw of living waters blue,

      Their spring nor saw nor knew.

       Then, in his parent stalk again retir'd

      With restless pain for ages he inquir'd.

      What were his pow'rs, by whom, and why conf err'd:

      With doubts perplex'd, with keen impatience fir'd

      He rose, and rising heard

      Th' unknown all-knowing Word,

      "BREHMA! no more in vain research persist:

       My veil thou canst not move.—Go; bid all worlds exist."

       Hail, self-existent, in celestial speech

      NARAYEN, from thy watery cradle, nam'd;

      Or VENAMALY may I sing unblam'd,

      With flow'ry braids, that to thy sandals reach.

      Whose beauties, who can teach?

      Or high PEITAMBER clad in yellow robes

      Than sunbeams brighter in meridian glow.

      That weave their heav'n-spun light o'er circling globes?

      Unwearied, lotus-eyed, with dreadful bow,

      Dire Evil's constant foe,

      ​

      Great PEDMANABHA, o'er thy cherish'd world

      The pointed Checra, by thy fingers whirl'd, Fierce KYTABH shall destroy and MEDHU grim To black