Hear, or my lord and husband

Shall send me from his door

[Pg 30]

And take to his side a fairer bride

Whose breast shall be less poor.

Oft I have sought thy temples,

By Ganges now I seek,

Where ashes of all the dead are strewn,

And is my prayer not meek?

The ghats and the shrines and the people

That bathe in the holy Stream

Have heard my cry, O goddess high,

Shall I not have my dream?

The women of Oudh and Jaipur

Look on my face with scorn.

Children about their garments cling,

To me shall none be born?

The death-fires quiver faster,

O hasten, goddess, a sign,

That from this doom into my womb

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