Chapter XI

The dew cometh from heaven down!
It bringeth heavenly peace for all,
It wetteth all with sweetness.
Invisible, it raineth deep into souls,
It raineth love and peace and joy.
It raineth sweetness.
Dew! dew! my comrades!
It is the season of the cooling dew!
The dew is falling everywhere,
And wet is every rose.
The gentle breath of heaven blows.

(Trans.) _Puran Singh_
(_Nārgās: Bhai Vir Singh_).

RÂJHANS (THE PRINCE OF SWANS)

Râjhans! The Golden Swan! Is it thy plumage that shines, or the sunrise on the eternal snows?

The dweller of _Mân-Sarôwar_, the lake on the roof of the world! Thy golden beak parts milk from water, in the living stream thou art a liberated soul!

A rosary of spotless pearls is in thy beak, and how sublime is the lofty curve of thy neck against the Heaven’s vast azure!

Thou livest on pearls, the nectar drops so pure of Hari Nam.

Great Soul! lover of the azure transparent Infinite! Thou canst not breathe out of the _Mân-Sarôwar_ air, nor canst thou live out of sight of those loftiest peaks of snow, and away from the diluted perfume of musk blowing from the wild trail of the deer!

Thou art the spirit of Beauty, thou art far beyond the reach of human thought. Thy isolation reflecteth the glory of the starry sky in thy Nectar Lake of Heart in whose waters the sun daily dips himself!

Thou hast the limitless expanse of air, the companionship of fragrant gods,

And yet we know thou leavest those Fair Abodes to come to share the woes of human love;

Thou alightest unawares on the grain-filled barn of the humble farmer, awakening Nature’s maiden hearts, thou informest love.

It is thy delight to see woman love man, the small ripplings of a human heart in love flutter thee in thy lofty seat.

Thou art the soul liberated through love; thou knowest the worth of love, flying for its sake even midst the cities’ smoke and dust, perchance, to save a human soul through love!

“Sisters of the Spinning-Wheel”:
_Puran Singh_.

LATER LYRICS: POPLAR, BEECH, AND WEEPING WILLOW