Chapter CXXXVII

_Kavi:_ Hearken, O Mādhava, what more can I say?
Nought can I find to compare with love:

Though the sun of the East should rise in the West,
Yet would not love be far from the worthy,

Or if I should write the stars of heaven on earth,
Or if I could pour from my hands the water of all the sea.

_Vidyāpati says: O Shivasimha Rāi,_
_To abandon the loving is ever unmeet._