PS ^505 *'T^-^ ClassJE.S3 5a5' CDiJ^TightN" Lii^l Ci)FffiI&HT DEPOSIT. SIMLA A TALE OF LOVE BY STANWOOD COBB Author of "THE REAL TURK," "AYESHA OF THE BOSPHORUS." •• THE ESSENTIAL MYSTICISM " THE CORNHILL COMPANY BOSTON Copyright, 1919, by THE CORNHILL COMPANY All rights reserved (0)CU586667 APR 23 1^20 r4 DEDICATED TO MY FATHER, ARTIST AND SEER, WHOSE FAITH HAS BEEN TO THOUSANDS A FOUNT OF INSPIRATION FOREWORD What is love? how moves its force Upon the human frame? What course Does it pursue? how does it spend Its power? For what end Is it bestowed on man? All that our human wisdom can Discover as the cause of love, Whether it is a gift above All others by the gods bestowed; Or whether a mere madness owed To our mortality, — all this Has failed to analyse the bliss Of love, or love's deep tragedy. If of this theme again, I try To sound the depths, I pardon sue For claiming to present the clue To love where many others failed. Yet on that ocean where there sailed Full many ships, one was the first Upon the western land to burst: One man, discoverer, unfurled His flag upon an unknown world And made it known. So there may be Of success some possibility To all who try. FOREWORD We do but seek Of earthly and of heavenly love to speak. It is a theme as old as human life, Since first man sought in wife That comradeship which nothing else Can give. But the antiquity repels Me not of such a theme. It is old — It is young too. For there have rolled New cycles o'er the world since then, — New thoughts, new love, as men Are new and different. And ever new The centuries will evolve ; and few Of mortal things but suffer change. And from the lesser to the higher range Of beauty grow. So there is still a place In Fortune's niche for books of love. What my words and thoughts may prove As to love's essence, I know not. I only know that keen and hot My eager heart within me burns, My poet's wings the low air spurns. To try this flight into the realm Of love. If disaster overwhelm Me, as of old one who did dare Too high to soar, no one need share Misfortune with me. But if I can show What love is, if my rhymes bestow FOREWORD A glimpse of truth, then well content To serve the world my skill is spent. Here is the story, mark it well, As Brahmin legend doth it tell. PREFACE Some will read Simla for its story of love and devotion. But those will not err who see in it a presaging of the harmonizing of Oriental asceticism with the New World love of action and love of life. Simla represents the highest that Hindu thought achieved; Sita, the New Truth that reconciles flesh and spiritj love and life, the world and the soul. The analyzing of life is from the East, but the practice of living from the West — and the two wedded yield an ideal and perfect civilization. TABLE OF CONTENTS ^AGE Foreword v PART I The Birth of Love 1 PART II LoTE Grown Familiar . 65 PART III Love's Greatest Quest 80 SIMLA Part One THE BIRTH OF LOVE Simla sat in the forest tall. Buttressed in like some great hall With walls of living green. Here peace Reigned all the year; and ne'er did cease The spell of nature on the heart Of forest lover. It was Simla's part To tend the sacred fires, and sweep each day The little hut which wisdom's sway Proclaimed as Yogi hermitage. Here Chelu, reverenced as sage, Taught the Vedas to his son, And what of truth his prayers had won As special gifts from God. Today Simla had dropped his boyish play And sat absorbed with puckered brow, All rapt in thought. So fast can grow The mind of child to mind of man 1 2] SIMLA That the most anxious parents can With difficulty mark the day When childish thoughts have passed away ; And when the deeper truths of life Commence in the youth's soul a strife Of longing the unknown to know — New manly powers of thought to show — Seeking a comradeship with age. So Simla turning to the sage Chelu, his sire, for the first time pled For knowledge. Puzzled and slow he said : " Father, tell me qi life's mystery. Whence do we come? Why do we die? Who has created this great world About which all the stars are whirled In nightly splendor? And what gives man The power that great gulf to span Of dark and dreadful stellar space, So that he fears not heaven's face To gaze upon ; and dares pray Brahm To shield and save him from all harm? " Chelu gazed in Simla's eye. Glad that his youthful son should try To pierce the mystery of life ; glad For this awakening, — yet sad Somewhat at the inevitable thought. These years which Simla wisdom brought Must also take away his son SIMLA [S Soon from him, his own course to rim. A few more lessons — a few runes Of occult teaching — a few moons Swift passing — and the youth he cherished here Would leave him, marching without fear Into life's battles. So the stars declared. They told the time when Simla fared On his own destiny as near at hand. Like one who at the sea's curved strand Waits eagerly to embark. And the sire, Knowing that even loving sons will tire Some day of sitting at the feet of age And learning theory from lips of sage ; — Knowing how life goes and how each youth When his time comes, must leave the Truth Of the pure forest-teaching for the life Of action, and there take his part in strife And ardor of achievement, — knowing this. He saddened at the breaking of the bliss Of forest harmony and silence. And yet As a wise parent he would set No bars to freedom when that day approached, Lest he by destiny should be reproached For claiming his son's life as his own, — When Brahm had simply deigned to loan Chelu for two decades' joy This sweet and eager-learning boy. 4] SIMLA Should he be jailer to his son And hold him, when the Fates now spun Adventures new and hopes faint hid? Such parental selfishness the gods forbid! So Chelu, smiling on that face So lit with love and wisdom's grace, Said, — " Simla, sit here by my side And ere the evening shadows hide The forest spaces, I will try, well As my wisdom aids, to tell The cause of life, — the birth of world On world in nightly splendor whirled — The nature of existence — how to meet Life's mazes with unerring feet — And how in each thing to discriminate Between false Maya and the truths of Fate." Then Chelu, praying to the gods for aid. These words of wisdom to his pupil said : — CHELU'S DISCOURSE ON LIFE " Life springs from life — Nor can we find a time When life upon this earth existed not. And back of life the Cause, — And back of that Naught is. For the Cause SIMLA [5 Is causeless, Not to be divided further. Inexplicable, Brahm sits upon his throne As First in time and First in power. No partner shares his tasks. Nor equals that Divinest Lord, That pure Essence, — - Simplicity of manifold. Infinite in variety yet changeless, One and Only Substance, Cosmic Light. Now Being changeless lay, — Until a stir of longing, sacrifice-desire, Flaming within its central core — Tapas, the fire of Love — Awoke the germ of New Becoming, That there might be created others To share existence and to thank Brahm for being; to enjoy the Light That, streaming in undimmed brilliance, Is older than the ancient gods, More lasting than eternity. So Brahm, One quarter of Him manifesting. Created space. Filled it with suns and constellations, Breathed upon planets. 6] SIMLA Set in motion that great play Of life, which dazzles sight And the brain bewilders. So began that game, Existence, Whose stakes are infinite, Whose gains and losses overwhelm Man's imagination. Here, the intricate labyrinth, Life : — The turmoil and confusion of the world, Joys, sorrows, victories, despair; Contendings, struggles. Hatred and destruction ; Love, service, godliness and peace, — From all emerging progress tow^ard perfection. That far goal, At once the cause and end Of Life. There, the immutable Brahm, Causeless and uncausing, Undescending into all strife Of mortals : Supreme, unknowable, of whom Neither existence Nor non-existence Can be predicated. SIMLA [7 Simla, make it thy aim To leave the Here, And in the There to make thy home, — There above clouds of darkness ; There where changeless Light Floods over all its quenchless rays. Learn to know This as Maya, That as Bliss; To see through obscure veils the form beneath, Transcending space, cleaving to the Soul Of Matter and regarding not the husks. Learn to behold the senses' Dance With the true insight. Fair and dazzling though it be, Let not thy Self grow dizzy From its mazy whirls. Join in the dance — For such is fate to every mortal — That in its ecstasy some hint may be Of greater glory and of bliss superb." Thus Chelu taught his son of truth. Unfolding life, showing forth proof Of Brahm's existence, of the soul, And telling of that distant goal Toward which evolves the human race. And yearly Simla grew in grace 8] SIMLA And from his father wisdom learned ; And for all the grief that burned The heart of mortal, sought to get Solution. But of love, naught To the fair youth his father taught, Knowing Life teaches in a day More than all theory can say. Until the heart has tasted of its bliss No man can know what thing love is. So they two lived, day after day, And time passed joyously away Beneath the forest's checquered shade. The game of life was wisely played, As sages play to win the stake That can at last the spirit take From darkness, from Avidya, — free It from flesh and let it see The Light of Knowledge and attain To spirit's heaven, Devachan. So Simla grew — until the trace Of a soft down upon his face Proclaims him man. His brow is high. His glance now resolute, now shy ; His mouth as tender as a girl's; And on his temples the dark curls Framing an oval cheek, are such as fire The heart of maiden. Sure his sire Simla prized above all being; SIMLA [9 And his eye rejoiced in seeing Simla changed from boy to man ; Oft his face and form he'd scan. And his each new and virile art Brought joy to a fond father's heart. Now one day Simla, at the flush Of sunset, burst his way through bush And bramble to the holy place Where Chelu sat, rapt in the grace Of Yogi meditation ; there Where he was wont to fill the air With incense, — a blessed spot Shielded by banyan shade from hot Fire-rays of the tropic sun. The offering done. The sage turned fondly to his son Who flung himself at Chelu's side. " Father, what thinkest thou," he cried, " Within the forest's leafy maze Met this day my startled gaze? A creature new and strangely clad! No man ! for dainty limbs it had. And a fair stream of living gold Down its head and shoulders flowed. I saw it run through bush and tree, Until it went as suddenly As it had come. 10] SIMLA I could not tell Why a shudder on me fell, As if some mighty force there lay Within that dainty fleeting play Of limbs, and hair adown the breeze Floating like mosses from the trees. I chased as I've not chased before, And yet my strength availed no more ; - For suddenly a weakness came Over my limbs and through my frame ; So fiercely beat my heart, its stroke Began to strangle and to choke The breath within me, and I lay Exhausted — while it dashed away. Father, what is it? Dost thou know. Thou, whom wisdom favors so? Surely no form unknown to thee Ranges through flower, shrub and tree. Tell me of it — make it clear — And resolve this strange new fear That changes my once joy of life, Into a fierce, ungoverned strife ! '* Chelu heaved a heavy sigh. For once avoided his son's eye, — And uttered, looking at the ground: " I can't explain what you have found. Go ! Watch the forest day and night, Tell me when next it meets thy sight. SIMLA [11 And then perhaps I will make plain The problem to thy puzzled brain." He said no more but walked away Musing within himself all day. Seeing the time at last arrive When Simla with the world must strive, — Alone, unaided, face to face, Smitten by beauty's powering grace. Three days had passed, and through them all Simla heard not the glad bird's call. Watched not the sunlight creep its way To brighten flower and fountain's spray, Nor heeded his four-footed friends, Whose dumb needs he daily tends. He ever walked as in a dream Or sat beside the fountain's gleam, Recalling with a rapt delight The strange being that had met his sight. Until upon the fourth day's noon He came home smiling, and once more in tune With nature's beauty and her grace, — A new mystery in his face Which his tongue would fain disclose To Chelu, who already knows His son has seen that strange unknown Which Simla into such distress had thrown. 12] SIMLA " Father, sit thee down a while — For I your ear would fain beguile With the news of what I've seen. Deep within the forest screen, As I wandered toward the lake Where the deer their thirst must slake — Again between the trees so green I saw that fair form in a sheen Of white, dancing its way To where the lake all sparkling lay. I hastened, but when I reached the shore That fair sight was seen no more; But I saw the garments' gleam And a ripple in the stream. Which as I watched revealed the form Of the creature I had known. It sported in the water's lea; Its limbs shone white; and gracefully, More agile than the deer that swim, Or squirrel's leap from limb to limb. At last it swam ashore. And then A glorious vision reached my ken; — For as it waded from the deep To where the shore inclined less steep, I saw its satin gleam of flesh. Softer than cobwebs that enmesh The dew-drops for the morning sun. SIMLA [13 And now its water-gambols done, It stood all bathed in sunlight ray Proudly as peacock and as gay. Its tresses rippled in the breeze Almost to its dimpled knees. So like a man, yet different, too, The form presented to my view: Less vigor and less brawn of frame, All rounded softness like the tame Roe-deer that eats from out my hands. And like the deer it trembling stands As if about to start and run At my least noise or motion. I longed to rush upon the strand, To stroke it with my ardent hand, To feel its softness and its grace And nearer look into its face. But I feared to fright it. So, Hidden I staid there, kneeling low Behind the leafy ambuscade That my happy refuge made. I watched it preening in the heat, Lifting lightly now its feet. Turning now to face the sun ; — And constantly new glimpses won Of dainty limbs, and swelling breast Like the billow's curving crest Before it breaks up into spray 14] SIMLA And dashes gloriously its way Shoreward. And as the foam Subsides and turns back home To the great ocean, no more seen — So vanished through the leafy screen Of forest-gloaming this fair sight, That on my senses such a might Of drawing lay, as draws the bee To flower, or the moaning sea Moonward at full of tide. For as I watched, it seemed to glide Gradually away and disappear; No slightest rustle could I hear From its soft motion ; warm and still The hot air lay upon the lake. Was it a dream and did I wake To find it false? Or had my eyes Again obtained the happy prize Of vision, such as turned before My heart to fire and brought it store Of anguish these three days to dwell Within me? Father, Guru, tell Me now this mystery ; and rid My heart of all that's hid Within it, like some poison slow That doth to greater power grow Each day. What is it? Say, dear Sire! SIMLA [15 Chelu near wept to see the fire Of anguish lighting his son's eye ; And yet it was not time to try Such mystery to explain. No word He said, but silently transferred His gaze to heaven; sent a prayer Upon the holy listening air Of Atamon, where sage's thought Is nearer to the devas brought Than elsewhere in the Brahmin land. Then Chelu turned and took the hand Of Simla, lovingly and long, Within his grasp: " Go, dearest child ; Bear with you still this tumult wild For seven days. The devas tell My anxious heart all will be well By then. I promise to explain The puzzle that your soul would fain Resolve. For now, it cannot be. Once again it is thy fate to see The forest Beauty. Then the whole Deep mystery will be clear, — The meaning you at last shall hear Of this strange tumult in thy breast, And thy troubled soul shall rest At last in peace." So Chelu spoke For so the favoring gods awoke 16] SIMLA His intention to respond. He did not know what lay beyond The present, but he safely felt That all the future outcome dwelt With heaven ; and no worry need Afflict him — did he ever heed The voice of heaven as he daily strived To do. At last the time arrived The gods had promised. Without fail Simla the third time brings his tale To Chelu — his cheeks all fire, His hot hands hinting to his sire Of love's fever. Fast and hot The words burst from him, halting not : " This morning as I gladly ran Within the forest's leafy span Again this glad sight met my eyes. Of patience the reward and prize — Though tardy, — for full seven days Have I sought a thousand ways This Being, woven of pure light, As glad as sunshine to my sight. But since I saw it by the lake. No matter how my course I take. Along the vales and murmuring streams ; In dusky dells where sunlight streams Like rays from Brahma through the blue ; Up mountain sides, where eaglets mew, SIMLA [17 Up to the topmost pinnacle I strove But naught I found save murmuring grove. And streamlets dashing down the course Beaten to spray in their mad force. Father, so desolate I felt Sadly did I yearn to melt Like spray, to lose myself up there So near to heaven, — there where Brahm Seems to close in and shield from harm The listening soul of life. Alas, That all my gladness thus should pass To sorrow and to yearning pain. Which naught could conquer save again To see my Golden Glory burst Upon me, as it did that first And gladsome day, — day to recall With musing, on memory's breast to fall. So, father, have I passed twice four Sad days, dreaming that I never more Should see my vision beautiful. So I was sad until this morn, Trailing sadly and forlorn The forest road, I reached the place Where two waters interlace Their dew-drops in one glistening spray. Reflecting the white light of day Into a dazzling rainbow sheen Of colors, like jewels in the forest green. 18] SIMLA Beneath the water-fall there lies A glade all hallowed from strange eyes By range of firs that close around The soft moss-carpeted ground Like fairy circle; made for joy, Made to shut out all annoy, And to soothe a sorrowing mind That nowhere else could comfort find. This I discovered but a few days ago As I wandered to and fro With sadness haunted, through the glow Of forest stillness. But this morning, lo! As I approached the magic spot The blood beat at my temples hot, — For there upon the mossy brim My eye caught through the distance dim That fairy form, that burst of gold That seemed all heaven's light to hold. There my Golden Glory lay Upon the turf; in sportive play She garlands wove for her pet hind. Where gracefully her limbs reclined I envied moss ; and water, too. That felt her impress or had view Of that fair form than gods more blest, Yet hostile to my soul's pure rest. What should I do? If I advanced To where upon the green she danced SIMLA [19 Around her hind all garlanded, I knew full well she would have sped Again, as erstwhile, through the glade; Again my golden dream would fade, And like to bubbles full of light. Now sparkle, now dissolve from sight. But heaven to my assistance came. For as I viewed her graceful frame. And poured my sighs upon the air The more the zephyrs kissed her hair,— There, mute and waiting as I stood A sense of danger changed my mood. Immediate then I heard her cries. Shrilling of danger and surprise. I looked up and saw a serpent coiled About her hind, and in its fold Smothering the beloved pet In close embrace and closer yet. Until his eyes stood from its head. And in a moment it were dead. But leaping over cliffs, past trees, I pushed through brambles, and there on my knees I spoke the Mantra, — sacred spell You gave me, that had served so well In danger. It now availed me naught ! Then about the neck I caught The monster, strangling it so That at last it must let go 20] SIMLA Its mighty folds, and helpless lay A bruised and quivering mass of clay. The hind, now panting on the ground, A new art in its mistress found Of pity and of beauteous grace. A divine radiance lit her face, As clasping in her arms the pet Tears of joy and weakness met. And from excitement all so soon Resolved, she fell into a swoon. Her arms still clasped about the hind, Her hair dishevelled in the wind. Her face as marble white and pure. Her form so full of sv/eet allure Lay still and quiet on the ground ; And from her parted lips no sound Or breathing spoke of life. Dismayed, I there a dreadful moment stayed. Chafing her brow and shaking her ; Yet still she lay and did not stir. Then methought of water's charm To revive and free from harm The body worn out with fatigue. Or where death with life would league. And so I dashed off to the brook And a brimming handful took Of the water pure and cold. As much as my two hands would hold; SIMLA [ai And careful, stepped o'er stone ana stick And forged my way through brier thick Again to her and in her face The water dashed. Once more the grace Of color lit her cheeks. Her eyes Looked forth again in wild surprise Upon the world, and her sweet breast Heaved as with bitter weight oppressed. But soon she smiled, a smile That seemed in heaven to bide awhile Before it dawned on earth. I stroked her forehead as she lay Smiling in her glad sweet way ; And to show her gratitude, Dimples her dear features wooed. And all her grief and danger quelled Her fear of me seemed now dispelled And she no longer tried to run, But lay beneath the golden sun. Her hair more golden, and her ways Past the poets' mead or praise. Presently she sat up and gazed At me until, my senses dazed, I could do naught but gasp and smile. Then, finding courage all the while. My hand her velvet cheek caressed, Softer than the eagle's breast. Her head she gently let to rest Upon my shoulder. Her dear eyes. 22] SIMLA Full of the warmth of summer skies, Dwelt on me — till I could but gasp At the joy that lay within our grasp. Father, it melted all my being quite, — And in my veins the old sullen fight Yielded to flow^ of golden bliss. Then slow her soft lips drew to kiss My own. As roses blown By summer breezes dizzily sway This way or that — so my heart lay A helpless moment, buoyed and filled By ecstasies that through it thrilled, I seemed to know not what I did When her lips' perfume gently slid Upon my lips. Our souls close grew, One mightyj impulse through us drew,— Till my dazed spirit scarcely knew Whether it were I who lay Upon her breast and felt the play Of heart-beat quickened there. Or whether I had melted into air, — A zephyr-joy, a breath of glee. Was I I, and was she she? Or was I she, and had her soul in me Crept softly in and dispossessed At that strange moment when we kissed ! O father, I would gladly give The sorrows which I had to live SIMLA [23 These many days, if I but knew This joy I felt was true and sure From the gods sent, and would endure! But if it's but a moment's joy, — While all the mediate days annoy My heart, as now has been Since first my treasure I have seen, Father, I know not what to do ! Must this be so my whole life through? Already I have lost the glow Of ecstasy — which so little while ago Upbuoyed me. And I can hardly wait Until the hours revolve their fate Once more a weary se'nnight, — For then I meet ray dear delight Again by her command. Though I pled Bitter for earlier day, she gainsaid My plea, and homeward turned her way. And when I sought to follow, ' Nay ! ' She said, ' It must not be ' — smiled And was gone, leaving me this tumult wild. Now, father, you must tell me all. Explain this fever, list the call My helpless spirit makes to you — To you, my father, guide. Guru." Chelu smiled deep upon his son — " How powerful has now begun The hold of love upon you ! I knew 24] SIMLA The time for love and marriage drew Towards its fulfillment — for love it is That thrills you with this subtle bliss, And it is woman who has shown To you the magic men have known Since Eve first smiled on Adam. But first, Before I can explain this thirst Of fever in your veins, I must Make clear how man differs from the dust Of earth which constitutes his frame. Think you Man had sent his fame Through earth and heaven, if his role Were to obey the body, not the soul.'^ And so to thee I must unfold The mystery of spirit, and the hold Earth makes upon it. Come! While the dusk lasts, sit Beside me here and let me pour Heaven's wisdom for you in this twilight hour." So Chelu f avoringly spoke — And into Being these great truths awoke. CHELU'S DISCOURSE ON THE SOUL " Learn now of the spark Within thee. God-Man is it called. SIMLA [25 Purusha, image of Deity ; Smaller than a mustard seed, Larger than the universe, Great in small, Atman, Self, Hiranyagarbha, Golden glow of life, and spark From Brahm. Learn, oh Son, the nature of thy soul And thou art freed from all the bonds Of earth's enchantment. Look around thee: below, above. All that the eye discerns. All that the senses catch. The trees, the brooks. Earth, air, and seas. And living forms that they do hold ; Atmospheres, Sun and moon. And stars. And the infinite glorious distances beyond, — All This thou art; All This doth lie concealed Within thee, if thou but knew. For the Self is all, and This is less than all. The Self is Brahm, — And This, the phenomenal existence. Is but the exudation of His thought. To see thyself as creature and as part Of the Around-world, — 26] SIMLA This is Maya, This is the Veil, This is the senses' dazzle; Earth's illusion, Desire-source, Path that leads in Mazes Ever back upon itself; Cause of pain and sorrow Chaining existence to existence, — Moksha never thus attained. Behold the masses Flinging themselves into the sea of life ; Drunken, reckless, Grasping for possessions. Bent on gain. Heedless of Brahm and Self. See them store up in dreadful ignorance An evil Karma, recking Themselves as free who are but slaves To hot and mad desire ; Recking themselves as slaves Who, if they knew, were free To rule and govern gloriously All the Around-world. Such is the life Of them who know not the Within-world. Spiritual eyes they have, and see not ; Ears they have for inner guidance, and hear not; SIMLA [27 Senses clairvoyant for the scent and touch Of faery forms Grown in garden glades of spirit. Yet so dense a veil Of Maya all-infolds them. That they live as one Born deaf and dumb and blind From out his mother's womb. But be thou A citizen of two worlds. Live in the world about thee; Descend into the shocks of life ; Fight the good fight, but not As men fight who forget their God. Learn to know men, see Their passions, Read their motives. Learn to play upon the mighty organ pipes Of life. Learn to lead And rule the human world. But live also in the world Of dreams. Be as a bird that soars From earth to sky. To lose itself in airy regions Where the gods live. Above the world of time and space Atman ever dwells — 28] SIMLA As in spaces measureless, As in eternal day. Yet mystery of mysteries I tell thee, Who can list my words But understand their import Not until thy spiritual rebirth Hear thou what I say And mark it down upon thy memory-soul ; That man may live in these two worlds At one and the same time. God-man and world-man, One-in-twain, Shall live upon this earth Harmoniously, joyously, immortally, When all do learn of Truth. Now do I impart to thee The way to Moksha, to Deliverance; The means by which Thou art to learn of Self And learn of Brahm As union and identity. It is through sense-control And sense awakening. Bind the senses, shut them in; And also free the senses. Gratify their every whim. SIMLA [29 But here a mystery lies. He who would this puzzle read Must know of senses Other than the senses known. Must as discoverer Explore new lands, And find within himself New powers, new riches, and new opportunities. Earth-senses bind, Heaven-senses loose; Close eyes and ears, Forget the world ; Open eyes and ears Where dawns the super-world,^ — ■ Super-man to be. Super-senses to develop, Super-destiny to find. DISCOURSE ON THE THREE AGES OF MAN Now will I teach thee Of man's three ages. According to the plan of Manu — Law-giver unto mortals. First, the forest claims thee As Chela, blest disciple 30] SIMLA Of some Guru, spiritual master, Who shall teach thee of the ways of truth. Here thou dost dwell. Here spend thy days In service to thy lord, — Building his fires. Sweeping his hearth, Cooking his simple meals ; And at dawn and dusk Paying sacrifice unto the gods. As thou dost consecrate thy body In material service to thy lord, So must thou consecrate thy mind and soul Unto his guidance, Listening to his wise words. Learning from his lips the Vedas, Sacred books ; Learning from him the Vedanta knowledge, Too great for common mortals But revealed to Brahmans. So he plays upon thy soul, Thy Guru, As on an instrument in delicate attune With the divine ; Opens thy stops, sets all thy being In vibration to the Cosmic rhythm, — The same to which the stars move in their course. SIMLA [31 And to which the planets circle in mysterious love Around their Sun — Inner law, outer law Both one. Here thou dost learn, too, How freedom lies in strict obedience Unto the law. For when thy wish Is Brahm's wish, Then is it free as yonder bird, That spurns the ground And cleaves the air against the claims of gravity. But when thy wish is for non-good, for self, Then is it shackled. Then the mighty force Of all creation — That force which upholds the constellations m their places — Dost crush thee, — First gently persuading thee to yield Thyself unto its current; Then, if thou yieldest not. Dashing thee in a mad torrent The speed of which man vainly deems his own will-force. Until he learns too late 32] SIMLA His course is not his own. No will, no power to resist The mighty karmic force That bears him on To final ruin. Not so the course of him Wlio follows Dharma, Duty's call. To him the Law is guide and comrade, Master and Lover, Transcendental Power, Perfect Mate. For him the planets bend their course, The stars conspire to serve, And Destiny awaits him in far harbors of the soul, — Magnificent, cosmic, kind Unto her servant. Accepting his soul's consecration, And aiding him to work his cherished part In universal life. Son, obey the Law, Seek for its counsel. Listen to its voice. And follow every guidance. This the truth that I, Thy Guru, Have strived to teach thee. SIMLA Peace, peace be unto thee ; Peace in Brahm. When twenty summer suns have filled their course, And youth to manhood turns, Begins for him the second stage Of life. Then waits for him A wife, glorious mate To soothe his cares, To share his sorrows, To create for him, in return for love, Fair radiant beings To bear his name and power To posterity. Here lies a mystery, Greatest mystery the body knows, — • That woman may create Even as Brahm doth; May enfold, within-form. And then manifest to light of day, New beings with immortal souls. To such a mystery Fitting it is that love should be The great Initiator. This it is that in thy frame 34] SIMLA Has wakened such a tumult, Stirred thy blood to madness, Stolen all thy peace of life; And shown thee such a spectacle Of Maya beautj'^, That thy soul, dazzled. Would fain rush in And join the whirling mazes Of the dance. Love, the great Illusioner, Take it now for guide, And let it lead thee through the Maya-world. Fear not ! It is destiny For thee. Full well I knew when twenty years ago I entered these domains. That the time would come When Love would make thee prisoner — Love would steal thee from me — Love would bind thee close To woman And lead thee back into the world. Go, fulfill thy second stage As house-holder. And leave me free to forest meditation, Alone with Brahm, Alone with my Divinest Lord, Even as one day SIMLA [35 Thou too shalt claim Thy Brahmin right To meditate alone upon the ways of God. House-holder now thou art, Parent to become. Propagator of the race. Free thou hast been within these forest ranges, Free to seek silence, Free to think on Brahm ; Free of sex, as seraph souls That sing before the sacred throne. Now thou art no longer free. The mantras that I gave thee Avail thee not, As thou didst find when serpent power Defied thy might. Then thou wert forced From spirit-power toward earthly power to descend. Such is love. It awakens latent forces of the Maya-Self. It develops to the highest point The self that is to lose itself in God. Fear not, it is the path to Moksha. Even though it seems to turn away And wander amid pleasure fields Low-lying, far from spirit's mountain-peaks, 36] SIMLA Love of man leads ultimately Into love of God. Go, bring forth children, Learn unselfishness, Devotion, loyalty. Tender sympathy and care. Learn to find freedom in bondage unto Dharma. For truly as the stars sing in their destined course, So thou shalt find a joy Within the prison of the flesh Which love makes, — Love, the gaoler. Love, Keeper of the soul for God. Third stage, as forest hermit To retire from the world In God-like meditation. Here are wrought out all those truths, That inner essence of religion. The Aranyakas. Here, above Maya dwelling, Freed from bonds of sense, — Man beholds nature as unveiled, Penetrating unillusioned to the core of Being, Learning all the mysteries of life. Full maturity of mind and spirit. SIMLA [37 Calmness and peace of age. Unquenchable thirst for truth, — Make this a period rich with thought, Pregnant with priceless jewels Of the spirit. In the forest-closures, Shut off from life. Freed from sex. Peace at last comes ; Sensing of the super-world, Knowledge of Atman as the soul Of universal life. There to seek the way Nearer each day to God ; Each setting sun brings peace, Each dawn initiates ne%v joys. Then of the truth explored To share with others — Chelas new-beginning life with search for truth ; And older men Who, hearing perchance Some special fame of forest-dweller, Travel from cities far To silent glades. That they may sit at wisdom's feet: Plying their busy questions And receiving answer, as to what Is manifest, 38] SIMLA What unmanifest; What the Self that dwells within; What the purpose of the senses and of life ; And how Moksha is attained. This I count as the most glorious stage Of life, This the nearest to immortal bliss, — Tasting beforehand of that celestial wine Which the gods sip ; Reaching the within-world Where all is fair. Where space and time adhere not, And the hold of earth Breaks, and releases man For his immortal journey God-ward. This stage is now my privilege to claim, — Earth-duty done, Dharma toward wife and children finished. You to the city. You to married bliss And household arts. But for me, — The forest-wisdom. Skies of pure serenity, Joy, and the peace of Brahm." SIMLA [39 So Chelu spoke, and his words brought New wisdom to the youth he taught. Now Simla, enlightened, realized well The meaning of this magic spell Love had cast on him. Now he saw How all must come within Love's law. Or soon or late; and he accepts the voice Of Destiny. His heart and soul rejoice At thought of home, and sacred fire. And wife and bairns to call him sire. He sees of Love full clear man's need. And joyous waits Love's promised meed. And so Time drawls her sluggish way Till the seventh sun illumes that day When destined blisses Simla greet. That he should soon with Sita meet. As he set forth upon Love's quest His father told him it were best The maiden fair, could he persuade Her heart, to bring back when he made His journey homeward. She should tell Her life and home — and if the Fates thought well. Their troth should plighted be. For to Chelu, it was Destiny That called his son, and it was right The planets should at last unite These souls to join, and send them forth To found their own familiar hearth. 40] SIMLA And so when reddening sun low dipped And mountain-trees grew fire-tipped, Chelu heard afar the strain Of happy voices — and soon they twain, Maiden and youth, from out the wood Emerged in heaven-ecstatic mood. Around them seemed a golden flame Of love to play, as slow they came The path adown. Or was it but the fiery glow Of sunset, transfiguring the low Glad arc of heaven which lay back of them? Now quick the maiden ran, the yellow hem Of Chelu's gown to raise and press To her sweet lips — while Chelu gave caress As to a daughter whom he joyed To greet. And Simla stood there, buoyed With great content. He knew this tender greeting meant The girPs submission — that her life Was henceforth pledged to be his wife. And now as Chelu, 'neath the arm Of a great tree sat her of radiant charm, " Be welcome here — who love to roam. Content thee here to make thy home And rest with us a pleasant while. The night is young. Will you beguile Our ears with story of your maiden life? How comes it you are not ere now a wife? " SIMLA [41 " If you wish," she said, " I will tell the tale Of my life as the old priest Sael Told me ere he died. One year Ago, just from today, he bade me near His bedside sit and learn my past, — I who had called him father. ' Fast Comes the time,' he said, ' when my soul Is to leave this plane and one step toward the Goal Nearer its journey make. Ere I go I would that you, my child, should know All that I know about you.' At this word A strangeness in my bosom stirred. What did he mean? Was he not my sire.'* * It is a strange tale,' he said, ' if I tire Not, that I shall unfold this day. Long you have called me father — my sway Obeyed, but naught else. All gay and wild As a young roe-deer you have been, my child, — Knowing no law but mine. And I, as you see. Have let you run wild, I have made you free Of all the world save Brahm and me. To my wish you have given due heed. At my call you would ever speed Home from the lonely forest-shade ; But no other claim on you was made Than to heed my voice. Elsewise, yours was the youthful choice 42] SIMLA To keep yourself sheltered in our home. Or freely through the great woods to roam As your heart bid. The reason for this I hid From you, from all. Yet many wondered Why I from the Manu laws thus sundered Your budding life ; why you thus played Free, unrestrained, as no Hindu maid E'er did. They knew not you had the special care Of Brahm; that your guidance was my daily prayer ; And that in visions all my plans were given To train you by the will of Heaven. For you are not a common thing. It was the gods that caused to bring You to me, in this wise : — It chanced one day At dawn, as I began to pray It seemed as some one called my name, A spiritual voice. Then soon there came A faint rap on my door. I opened it. Only an owl, soft-pinioned, flit Before me up the mountain path. The air Was biting cold. I returned to prayer. Again methought I heard my name Called out by some one, but the claim Of prayer upon me I would not forego. SIMLA [43 Then came again a rapping, slow And ominous. And as I ope'd the door A black crow stood there pecking from the floor Some grains of meal. Alarmed he flew Slowly away, up the dark path where grew The light of day above the trees. Again I turned back on my knees In prayer and meditation. But no peace The gods allowed — for a moan Soon came from out my door. Where shone Through it the morning light I saw A monkey lifting up its paw As if to call me. His gibbering squeak Seemed almost humanly to speak And bid me come. He turned to run Upon the mountain path. The sun, Still hid, tipped the far trees. No more dared I upon my knees Seek Brahm, when plainly there were sent His messengers three at dawn. What meant This summons it was hard to know. At least I felt that I must go Boldly up the mountain road Until some evident meaning showed The purpose of my calL 44] SIMLA So out I strode into the morning, wrapped about With robe of wool. The air was keen. Coldly the morning smoke was seen From peasants' huts, low-wreathed around The ridge-poles, hugging the frozen ground. Up the mountain as I climbed The bells from distant temples chimed. ]My soul in prayer to Brahm addressed Sought for his guidance, and professed Its only aim to seek His will. And so my aged footsteps still Mounted the path, still forged a way Toward where the night gave place to day Within the mountain pass. At length, When faint and feeble grew my strength, I saw ahead a dark form lie Where the black mountain touched the sky. One last effort and I stood Beside it. By growing light I could Discern the figure of a prostrate man Wrapped in soft fleece of Astrakan. I called him — touched him. No response He made. His limbs all rigid lay. For a nonce I gazed upon his face, o'er spread With suffering, taut and gaunt ; all red SIMLA [45 His hair and frosted beard ; his length Surpassing that of Indus man. Silent I stood a moment's span, Thinking him dead. Then as I moved His limbs, a rustling motion proved Some life within him. To my amaze His fur robe parted and I gazed Upon as fair a sight as life can show. — There, haloed with a radiant glow Of golden curly locks, a child I saw — so young, scarcely a year It seemed. One glance it gave. Then fear And cold and hunger made it burst Into a flood of crying. At first I could but look in wonder there At its fine skin and golden hair So strange to Indus-land. Then I took The child within my arms, and shook The prostrate figure. All still And cold it lay, like breath of the chill Grave ! No doubt but life had passed From that gaunt frame ! Those eyes their last Long look had had of earth and sky. Its lonely fate had been to die High on the mountain-pass, just when An hour more had reached our glen- 46] SIMLA Fast hamlet, and new strength and life Had found. Now neither passion's strife Nor hostile foes, nor battling will. Would e'er engage that form so still Upon the mountain-path. I let It lie there, while with the babe I set Upon the homeward way. So strong I felt with that dear load, the long And toilsome mountain-road, now down- Ward going, brought me to the town In a short time. Upon my couch The babe I laid. Then quickly got From the nearest mountain-hut A nurse to aid my awkward skill. Her first task was at the fire to fill A pot with milk and let it brew. While from the child its clothes she drew And chafed its limbs all red with cold. Then gave it the hot milk, and fold On fold of blanket wrapped around The child. Then on the couch in sound And happy slumber soon it lay. And peaceful slept throughout the day. Meanwhile a problem filled my mind ; — Though the gods had aided me to find This child, could I an aged Brahman, keep Within my home that which did sleep SIMLA [47 So sweetly on my bed? Again I prayed My human reason should be swayed By higher Reason, my poor sense Be guided by the power immense Of God-Head. And so a vision grew Upon rie, and showed me clear and true My duty. " Keep the child," — a voice Echoed within me. "And rejoice Our Will to do. Thou art not defiled To nurse and feed the foundling child That We have sent. It must be known As Brahmin child. When it is grown. Great blessing it will bring to Brahmin land. Care for it, train it, with thine own wise hand." And so began, my child, your Brahmin life, — Sheltered from struggle, sheltered from the strife That fetters common mortals. In peace, Where I had made my shelter 'neath the trees, I taught you daily of the Brahmin lore ; I watched your wisdom more and more Increase; saw your fast ripening soul Its journey hasten toward that goal Which every Brahman seeks. Dear child Your manners were so sweet and mild, 48] SIMLA Who could help but love you? Not I, Surely, to whom as a gift from the far sky You had descended. Every day You grew more dear to me, and filled My lack of children, — else my heart had chilled With aging years. But you kept it ever fresh. You rendered sunlight to me from your tress Of golden hair. You mirrored Beauty In your features rare. And Duty Daily so claimed in you its share Of Goodness, that Goodness grew more fair. You were given by the gods new joy To bring my fading years. Both boy And girl in one you proved to be — - Chela in a double sense to me. Your Guru, who sought to give You all the Light by which men live, And women, too. No Indus child Of your frail sex had ever reconciled, As you, the scholar's learned part With the deep-loving, ardent heart Of womanhood. It was a destiny God-given, — to you, to me : To me, in teaching such a soul ; To you, in thus transcending woman's goal Of life. All happily, you spent your days On tender care for me ; in praise SIMLA [49 To Brahm ; in Veda study deep. Till that time came when powers which sleep In childhood wake to life — an age When that innocent and dreaming sage, The child, embarks on rougher seas, Battles with storms where tempests please The soul, so long encalmed ; and fast And furious, straining at its mast. The soul's ship speeds its destined way To where unknown and great adventures lay. Now changed was all your life. — No more Content to serve me, patient as of yore Within my hut, your youthful restless feet Urged you the forest-joys to greet. Daily you roamed the jungle; fought Your way to strange new scenes ; brought Me back some souvenir of wildwood Such as catch the eye of childhood, Some new emblem daily of your fearlessness : Nuts from the tree-tops ; water-cress For which you braved the oozy mud Of morass-brook; or else a lotus-bud. Gathered from the center of a lake Where dauntless limbs had dared to take Your dainty body, floating on the tide Of waters desolate and wide. At first I pondered, ' Let her have her way, As long as dissonance of sex holds sway 60] SIMLA Upon her. Soon this wild strain will cease And once again she will find peace In domesticity.' But when a year Had passed and you were wilder still, a fear Came on me that I had done wrong. I should have checked you e'er thus strong Upon you grew this wildness. And so Full strictly bade I that you cease to go Into the jungle ; that you stay at home And tend your duties there and roam No more. Sweetly, as lay in you, you obeyed My orders. There at home you stayed. Sweeping the hearth, cooking my food. Studying the Vedas ; — but I saw you brood Daily, like an eagle caged: And a slow sickness waged To thin you, so that from your cheeks The glow of health no longer speaks Of happiness. Each day I saw you pine The more, until the blue, fine Veins showed in your forehead. Then I began to pray In fear to Brahm to guide my sway Upon you by His wisdom ; for I feared That silently, though dutiful, you neared The grave. SIMLA [51 And soon in answer came The god's direction — " Do not forbid her game Of wildness. She is our daughter. Leave her free To follow her own sense of liberty. Fear not that she may thus transgress The Brahmin laws. Over her I rule. My wisdom is her sway and school. And in the jungles or the deserts wide I am her guardian, ever at her side.'' So came the voice to me, and I obeyed, For all my life has ever stayed Upon His wishes. So, my child, These last years you were free and wild Of all restraints. Your erstwhile home, My hut, you leave and daily roam The forest-close, — and to the care of Brahm I trust to guard you from all harm. But soon my days on earth must end. And where then will my darling spend Her hours ? Would that you were wed ! So fast the golden years have sped That you are grown a woman, and should be By now a wife. Yet as your choice is free, Through Brahm's command, I do not try To find a husband for you — you who cry Still for more freedom. Live as you will And may the high gods guard you still.' 52] SIMLA So spoke my dear and aged sire, Telling of my life. Since then the fire Has died down in his frame. Two years Have gently passed, and now his fears Of age and death have been realized. At home he lay all paralysed. And by him daily I would sit And care for him as should befit My love and duty toward him. And then One day he passed beyond my ken Into the Other Land ; left me to dwell Sad and alone within our mountain-hut. But I could not, thus, long stay shut From nature and my forest friends. And so I roam again the fens And leave the home in tender care Of our old nurse. But ever goes my prayer To heaven for SaeFs soul. Thus in the forest range You found me, Simla. Now all my strange And mystic story I have told. You know my life, you hold My past. And will you also take My future, dearest? Does love awake At last my heart? And is my soul Destined to travel toward the Goal Of being at your side? '' SIMLA [53 She stopped, and smiled away the tears That tale of the declining years And death of her dear sire had caused. And for a moment they all paused In breathless silence. The moon rode high And flooded all the tropic sky With mystic sheen. Chelu first broke The raptured quiet, and he spoke These words with earnest, loving voice. '' Will you deign to make your choice, Daughter — for such I would thee call — Here now of a protector, all The turns of life to share with thee ; And build a happy home, where he Will call thee wife, thou call him husband.'* Will you fulfill love's budding hope — That thy chaste womb may duly ope Its destined treasures? Here is one Whom I am proud to call my son — Simla, brave, blameless youth — Who has worshipped at my shrine of truth These twenty years. Now the stars show The time has come for him to go Forth from me and build him a home. Householder to become. He loves you. His fond heart would bid him strew Your future path with roses. Joy 54] SIMLA Would he bring you — this fair boy, Beloved of devas. He will ne'er abuse Your woman's heart of love. Say, will you choose Him now for mate? You are alone In life. It seems the gods have shown This union as the destined thing; Not elsewise could a father bring Reconcilement to his aching heart When from his fond child he must part. Believe me, to none else than to you Would Chelu gladly, humbly sue As mate for his son's hand. Will you have him now for husband? You have no home — you have no guide But your own heart. Should you decide To accept Simla, here and now Will I perform the marriage vow. And you shall both be duly wed Ere yonder moon hies him to bed." A flush on Sita's fair face stood. She spoke no word — while through the wood A nightingale with notes of gold Strove plaintively its mate to hold. So deep the studied silence grew That on the leaves the sound of dew Slow trickling, was discerned. Then slow the bashful maiden turned SIMLA [55 A glowing face to Simla there, Who stood with outstretched arms. Fair, Delicate vision of a loveliness The Apsaras could not surpass, Stood Sita. And now faint smiles appear And heaven's glory seems to near The earth, when her fond eyes shine on his And promise him immortal bliss. He clasped her ardent to his breast And there she let her fair head rest, A burst of gold against his midnight curls. And still no words disturbed the whirls Of vast harmonic silence. Sound Is but froth, when love is found. For words in learning's halls have place. But they are lost in Love's still-throbbing space. " Sit thee both down, then, and ere the stars do fade," The sage broke silence, " thy history, Simla, shall be made Manifest, which as yet, I have not told. From the beginning I will thy life unfold — Of thy mother and her dying prayer. To the tale give a still ear ! Nay, I will return at last To far memories of my past — To the day when I first loved. And the same wild spirit moved 56] SIMLA My heart as now moves thine." With this Chelu gave his son the sign Of the father's blessing and fair hope ; And seated where the heavens seemed to ope A canopy of glory overhead Simla drank in what his fond parent said. "At just your age, long years ago, I met with lover's pangs also ; And that same mysterious fire — Be it from earth or be it higher — That courses madly through thy veins, Brought me the mingled joy and pains That lovers know. She whom I wooed Was all earth held of fair and good ; A blessing sent from Heaven in disguise, An angel new-descended from the skies. Love, my son, is the most sweet illusion That flesh is heir to in this world's confusion. Glory of the sunrise hues, Shimmer of the morning dews. Scent of flowers on the breeze. Whispering of soft-leaved trees. Laughter, and the glad surprise Of strange joy sparkling in girls' eyes, Mystery of flesh and soul, Path that leads to spirit's goal, — Love is all of this, and more ; For Brahm, through love, one of His four SIMLA [57 Great measures poured into the mould Of the material Maya world. Love is creation, love is bliss. All else in life the self may miss, Yet missing this it misses God, And spirit-breath that stirs each Sod. As you love now, so once loved I, With ecstasy that mounted high In lover's expectations. That sweet girl, Kalra, thy mother, of whom thy curl Of midnight hair reminds me, how with her Thrilled me the love which I see stir Within thy heart for Sita ! When we were wed Seemed it that Heaven all its glory shed Around us, as it now transfigures you. And then three years we lived, of true Sweet comradeship in wedded bliss • — And you were born. Did the gods miss Her ethereal beauty? Did they yearn To have her spirit's grace adorn The walks of heaven, that they took her from me? Hardly allowed they to give life to thee Ere they withdrew her, grudgingly; stole Her away to Kama, where her soul Than here more fittingly resides. 58] SIMLA Alas, how many brides Leave thus love's silken canopy To walk the large spaces of the sky ; Leave thus their husbands grieving sore, To whom, as bitter they implore For sight of the beloved one. Destiny replies, ' Behold a son We give thee, to recall thy love. He stays with thee, while she awaits above.' So, Simla, was I then bereft — - And only you, dear child, were left For consolation. There in Jumru I remained Till you sufficient strength attained To join me on the forest road. Then Heaven me this vision showed Of Atamon — this holy place. Where trees their branches interlace And make a canopy for thought. To this woods then I brought The only token Fate had left Of Kalra. — That token, son, you were I And I have trained you here, to stir The soup-pot, tend the fire. Fetch water, sweep out hut — nor did you ever tire Of this humble service which all Chelas owe Their Guru. SIMLA [69 Fondly I watched you grow- To youth's estate, where Truth's appeal Could finally your training seal With Brahm's approval. Now you learned The holy Vedas. How your mind burned All mysteries to know! Eager-heart, I called you. For you drank at wisdom's fount Full deeply, and your spirit fain would mount The highest peaks of thought. Nor did I com- pel Attention from you. It were as if a spell Of magic held your dazzled mind, Some new knowledge ceaselessly to find. And but to guide you was my part. Never to drive you, Simla, Eager-heart! Now to manhood you have grown. All too quickly the glad years have flown, And you must leave me. You must go Back now to Jumru; there with Sita sow The seeds of industry ; play in life The husband's part, your future wife To house and feed and cherish. Ere you go, While the dawn-star still hangs low Its glory in the eastern sky, I will with the Manu laws comply, — And ere I wed thee, make it known How love's seed should be wisely sown Within the marriage garden. Those great laws 60] SIMLA Descended from the past, without flaws They are, sacred truths ! Never fail To follow them, and happiness shall prevail Upon thy lives." So Chelu spoke, Wearing the night away. His words awoke The hearts of those fond lovers. Rapt They listened to his truths that shaped For them the duties of the married life, — Truths that should be known ere maid becomes a wife ; A delicate teaching which was fitly given Under the soft canopy of heaven Upon this tropic night. And now the first flush of the morning light Silvered the east. And soon the streamers red Of dawn awoke the squirrels from their bed Of sleep; and birds all joyous sang, And far and wide the forest rang With stir of wakening life. This was the hour In which the hermit was to use his power As Brahmin priest, to join that happy twain In bonds of holy wedlock. Fain They were for union — rapt in each other's es- sence, So that it seemed this night one presence Only was made by those two bodies there, Two souls united, as in the heavens air SIMLA [61 Penetrates in air so that no cyst Or barrier divides. In such a golden mist They floated. And they were already one At heart, when in the light of rising sun The priest them outwardly unites By those sweet, ancient, holy rites Which symbol union. For marriage is a sign Of union between mortal and divine ; And wedlock is that state on earth In which the holier passions find their birth, — Love of the weak, willingness to bear Suffering of others, gladness to endure The hardships of the world because a joy Of inner union daily serves to buoy The heart. And so a perfect married love Is counterpart of the glorious life above This vale of tears. And love's first kiss In marriage, is a symbol of the bliss With which the soul first meets its Divine Lord — - No greater bliss our earthly days afford. And now the holy rites are done. And lo ! within the East the sun — That glorious symbol of new life — Rises to bless the new-made man and wife. Its golden, tremulous, happy rays Awake the hearts of all to praise; 62] SIMLA And Chelu, Simla, Sita, three, Offer their thanks beneath the banyan-tree For life and health, and for this new great joy Of happy marriage. And Sita, no more coy. Looks joyous into Simla's eyes. And each finds in the other such a prize Exceeding all their hope that Destiny would send. Silent their prayers at first ; but now they blend Their voices in a glad, sweet, morning song. And all the birds that in the branches throng Choir to human song a sweet refrain — And sing their gladdest, and then sing again. And so the rites are done, and those glad two Are married. And Simla no longer has to woo The heart of Sita, it is pledged Forever to him. And he is privileged To enjoy the love of husband to a wife. And she is his, and he is hers, through life. And now where will they spend their honeymoon, That golden moment which escapes too soon The grasp of mortals, joy too pure to keep For long upon a planet where so many weep. This thought is theirs, to travel first To Sita's village where there dwell A few dear friends whom she would bid fare- well. SIMLA [63 Then they would wander through the forests, free As squirrels racing swift from tree to tree ; Free as eagles that soar round mountain-peaks ; Free as the mighty wave that breaks Upon some headland, welling slow and sure From ocean depths. So they would take the lure Of Nature for their daily guide. And where their paces loitered, there the bride At close of day on cushioned moss would rest; And there the bridegroom know himself as blest Above all mortals, holding through the night His golden-gloried treasure of delight. And so they travelled toward the ancestral home Of Simla. Shall we tell you how they roam So joyously the forest through? And how in hours of forest silence, true And absolute union of each loving heart Was forged, so that words were not needed on the part Of either? And how love daily grew Apace, — until if it had but a few More grades of heavenly wonder passed, The devas would have surely been harassed With envy of such mortal joy; and would have set Around the bride that strange invisible net 6i] SIMLA Which draws to an untimely death Full many a heart rejoicing in the breath Of love and youth? Fortunate it Avas That Sita's prayers left her no worthy cause For mishap. So humbh^ did she pray, So gratefully thank the gods by day And night, and unselfishly implore Tliat they would send to her no more Of ecstasy than was a mortal right, — That she was spared that too high delight Wliich her great soul was heir to, but which Had surely racked her body ; and too rich A store of joy, had called her heavenward. No cause for jealousy do her joys the gods af- ford. More poised, more wonderful each day she grew. It seemed as if her nature drew Daily from Simla strength and calm, while he Derived from her some measure of her ecstasy. Part Two LOVE GROWN FAMILIAR And so to Jumru Simla came And gave his days to love's own claim, — Happy in the ancestral home, Content, these years, no more to roam The forest jungle as of old; No more to hear the monkeys scold From the far tree-tops, or to scan The tropic night-sky's wide flung span; No more the birds and beasts to turn Tame to his hands ; no more discern Those glorious mountain-peaks of old, Raising their pinnacles of gold Against the morning sun. Only a gleam, A panoramic jungle dream, At times coursed through his busy brain As in the midst of civic strain His tasks he plied, to meet the need Of wife and children he must feed. So Simla, no more Chela, works From day to day. No task he shirks To build his fortune's house as wide As fitting for so dear a bride, 65 66] SIMLA So fair and sweet, so loved a wife, As now had joined to him her hfe. For Sita grew more fair each day, As maiden's charms to matron's sw^ay Yielded their all. That delicate, ethereal grace Which moved her limbs and lit her face Changed to a greater glory e'en. As moonlight yields to golden sheen Of sunrise and the lord of day. Now o'er her happy life held sway Domestic arts and children's care. Her heart each morning raised in prayer For those she loved, brought her so near The gods, their glory seemed to clear The bonds of flesh and shine serene Within her eyes, upon her skin As soft as velvet. And that smile, Once full of all a maiden's wile. Now seemed from heaven to draw its spell As o'er her babes her beads she'd tell. If Simla loved her as a maid. Now all his soul upon her stayed, — That sweet, that kind, and wifely way, That mingled seriousness and play. Deep within her heart and mind Each day new riches he would find. Each day she strove the more to show SIMLA [67 The love that every wife should owe Her husband, in whom she sees The fulfillment of heaven's decrees. Children five did grace their board ; Three sons did the gods afford, Surety that on that distant day When Simla's soul should make its way To Devachan, his grave would still The waiting gods with incense fill, And satisfy the claims of fate To keep his name immaculate. Now thirty wedded years have passed, And Simla finds his heart at last Longing from home-ties to be free And in the forest's sanctity To meditation yield his soul, Searching for union with the whole ; To still each sense of separate life, Forget the tumult and the strife Which Maya brings to each new day Until the self owns Atman's sway. He longed the bonds to fling aside Of pain and pleasure ; on the tide Of spirit to at last set sail, To breast that Ocean where no gale Disturbs its calm ; where sleeps each wave In a peace deeper than the grave. 68] SIMLA Each night he heard anew the Call. Each morn he heard that soft Footfall Of Spirit, urging him to go Where sheltering forests dulled the glow Of midday sun ; where cloistering shade A home for meditation made More fit than noisy city streets And open sunshine's dazzling sweets ; Where the light, filtering all serene Through its soft and leafy screen, More gentle invitation made to thought Than where the dazzled eye was caught By all the Maya-gleaming plays Of life's kaliedoscopic maze. His children now had left their nest, — Young eaglets glorying to breast Life's struggles. His beloved girls Long had outgrown their childhood curls, And happy in their wedded bliss No more the father's care would miss. From Household Dharma all absolved, His children grown, he now resolved To leave his home, to leave his wife, To renounce the town's sheltered life, — And as forest-hermit dwell In that self-same bosky dell Wherein his father long years past Was wont for days to pray and fast ; Where his own boyhood years were spent, SIMLA [69 And nature all her kindness lent To foster thought, to bring repose, And shut out all the soul's sly foes, Hot passion, envy, pride and greed, — Of sorrow and rebirth the seed. This purpose forming in his heart He was reluctant to impart To his dear wife ; she who had shared His life, though good or ill they fared ; She who, steadfast, with him had trod The Path that leads through life to God, — Until it seemed their souls were one, And only they beneath the sun Had found what love and union was. And now, to leave her without cause. Save that the Spirit bade him go — How could he plunge her in such woe. Who ne'er a grief had brought to him? Who ne'er had seen his eye's light dim With tears, but she had kissed them all away And filled instead with joy his day? Should he leave Sita thus behind Simply to free his soul and mind From care? In order to retreat from life Must he abandon e'en his wife. Dearest beloved of all save Brahm And Duty and the Atman's call? 70] SIMLA Yet such demands the Spirit made, — And no Brahman yet had stayed In loving daUiance by his hearth When Forest Dharma called him forth. He had no choice, he needs must brim The cup of sacrifice to its rim. Not only things he'd ceased to love Offer, but her he prized above All earthly joys, all heavenly bliss, — Yes, he must offer even this. And still, in doubt, each day that passed Found Simla sadder, more harassed With doubt. Twixt love and duty torn, His heart and face grew so forlorn That Sita noticed it, and pled — That as no thought since they were wed Had undivided been — he'd share With her this new and self-kept care ; That she might help these clouds dispel, Bring back the light she loved so well In Simla's eyes, his joy restore. And banish grief forevermore. " Alas ! " her dear loved spouse replied, As fondly vthey sat side by side And watched the sunset hues depart ; " No mortal can relieve my heart Of its distress — not even you Whose love like sunshine on the dew SIMLA [71 Is wont to brighten all my woe With a translucent heaven glow. Not even you, dear wife, can mend My grief. Nor can you hope to bend The will of Fate, which now demands I flee from these caressing hands, Leave those glowing love-lit eyes. And those warm lips where wifehood lies Ready to comfort in distress Or the achieving deed to bless." Sita raised quick her fond blue eyes Lit with a spark of dread surmise ; " What mean you, Simla? Is it now The need of forest hermit's vow You speak of? Is the time at hand To fulfill Dharma's third demand, — Chela, Householder, and then To pass beyond the wifely ken. And all alone in forest state To pray and fast and meditate? Ah me ! How cruel seems now Brahm To steal you from my loving arm. And set you there beyond my love In forest solitude to rove. Alas! I felt, I knew your time Of life had reached its household prime. How oft of late I've seen you scan The mountain's rugged horizon. 72] SIMLA Like eagles brooding in slow rage And pining in their prison-cage, Over 3^our eyes I have seen the glaze Of infinite distance and amaze, — That Search no mate can satisfy; That Quest which ends in Deity. Simla, through life and death my Fate, My love would err to hesitate And plead with you to sacrifice The call of Dharma. There is no vice So low as love which seeks to bind, Through passion of the heart or mind, The loved one fast in selfish thrall And turn it from the Dharma-call. The Gods must ever be obeyed ; — Nor shall it be that Sita stayed Her spouse from Duty's pilgrimage Or turned him from his Yogi-pledge. But Simla, though my heart in tune With yours agrees to Fate, a boon I humbly ask, a boon full strange, — That with you in the forest range Your wife may end her happy days. Joining with you her morning praise. Chanting at even-fall the psalm Of love and gratitude to Brahm. Can you not union find with me Beside you searching too? Nor see SIMLA [73 The Path because my woman's feet In pace with yours may be less fleet? Why has Brahm made souls with sex? Must separateness always vex The heart of mortal ? Does love disturb The Atman? Does mortal union curb The soul from running its true course Toward that which is of Love the Source? Take me, Simla, with you there, — Take me your forest life to share As I have shared your household tasks. Take me, O Husband ! Sita asks No trivial boon. She knows her plea Is strange and bold. But Destiny Is on the side of those who pray. They receive naught who dare not say Their heart's desire. My prayers are meant To bend the will of Heaven. Relent, As Brahm relents, and whispers you To unite Love and Duty too." " Sweetheart and wife," then Simla said, While on her hands his own were laid In loving clasp : " It may not be ! The gods would envy you and me That happiness. No, hearts must free Themselves from other hearts, to find The Hidden Friend. Even the mind Must free itself from worldly things 74] SIMLA To get the Peace, that calmness brings And absence of all thought. To grant Your boon, though I should acquiesce. Would be to sin against Heaven's face. For never in the Brahmin age. Since the laws given by the Mage Manu, has such a thing in life Been known, as that a hermit with his wife Should seek the forest-silence. No ! Though my heart bleeds it should be so, You may not share with me these years. Come, dearest, dry those bitter tears That in your eyes' depths seem to well ! And calm your bosom's anxious swell! It is Dharma, it is Fate. Do not the holy Vedas state. That the God-seeker must from sex His spirit wean ? Come, do not vex My leaving with a wife's complaint. Nor my heart already faint Oppress with thy dear sighs and grief. Does not the Spirit bring relief To every mortal pain? Look in my eyes, and see again The love I gave you as a youth. Not less of love, in very truth, Impels me sadly to depart. Here ! feel the beating of my heart, SIMLA [75 And know that Simla grieves no less Than Sita at this sore distress The gods force on us. But be brave! Our love shall pass beyond the grave, And there in heaven's purest light Endure. No power can break love's might. When two souls join in union true. That union lasts the ages through. This parting breaks not love's delight. It is at worst a brief respite, — That body, like the mind and soul, May be prepared for the far goal Of Death. All that sweet and dear allure Of sex must banished be, and pure And holy must the Brahman rise With wings to cleave the very skies. In that Ascent where many faint, Sex is a burden to the Saint." Simla thus his lesson drew To Sita, and his words pierced through Her mind and soul. No answer made She, but her burning hands conveyed To Simla an intuitive sense Of submission and obedience. No more the tears coursed down her face. No outward sorrow marred her grace. Still deeply grieving, even so 76] SIMLA She would not add to Simla's woe; Nor make more bitter that sad task Which Dharma of her spouse did ask. And so she wiped her tears away And smiled, as on an April day When clouds dissolve and show the blue Clear sky, with sunlight shining through,- So Simla beamed upon her lord All that her rich heart did afford Of love and sympathy. But if her tears could nothing move The heart of Simla, now her love Came near to changing all his plan. For ever does the heart of man Soften and melt beneath the power Of love which is a woman's dower. And so, what Sita with her pleas Could not accomplish, innocent Now, and free from all intent To hinder Simla, the very charm Of her devotion then the Brahm Almost did win from his fixed course. His heart was wrung with deep remorse At thought of leaving such a wife, — Whose love had nothing known of strife, Whose only wish was but to do The wish of Simla all life through. SIMLA [7T He clasped her ardent to his breast. Upon his cheek her cheek he pressed, He kissed her thrice, and in her eyes Read a love that never dies. Thrice he kissed her, thrice he paused And a deep sigh uttered, — caused By inner conflict between love And urging of the gods above. But now he lets her from his grasp, Slowly his hands from hers unclasp, And turning, silent walks away. The gods, all powerful, win the day ! And so for seven sacred days Simla his last devotion pays To Sita. By every look he tries to prove How deep and steadfast is the love He bears his wife. Yet at the last, Worn by his vigils and his fast. He walks as in a trance. She knows The finite love now lesser grows ; That to the gods his heart is given And all his thoughts are now on heaven. But through those seven days forlorn Sita did not weep or mourn. Knowing her duty was to please The will of Heaven, and to ease Her husband's grief. Silent she was. 78] SIMLA Nor spoke out unless the cause Was needful; but at Simla's side Knelt much in prayer. If she cried, She did not let her husband see Her tears ; but ever cheerily Faced him as though they but prepared A happy journey which both shared. At length the parting morning came — For Time leaves never slack its claim On mortals. As the glowing ball Of fire shed its light on all The earth, and many a tuneful bird Sang to the morning breeze that stirred The leaves and flowers, forth he strode, — Bare-foot, scant-clad, upon the road To Destiny ; that Staff in hand Which, Yogi emblem through the land Of Brahm, brings proffered food and bed Where'er he deigns to rest his head And bless a household by his stay. Thus Simla set forth, and passed away From Sita's sight. More dim it grew The farther off his footsteps drew, — For now the tears she long had checked Burst forth, as if her joy were wrecked Upon a shore all desolate And barren, since it lacked her mate. Sobbing she watched him down the road. SIMLA [79 Burning within her breast there glowed A fire of love no words could quench. And grief that seemed her cheeks to blanch Until all statuesque her face Shone with a fixed and clear-cut grace. And yet it was not grief alone That showed her face to marble grown, For in her mind a sudden thought New peace and resolution brought. A sun-ray pierced the apparent gloom — An outlet from the Dharma-doom Of separation. Now her tears She dried, threw to the winds her fears, And fixed her soul in great resolve That promised all her grief to solve. Part Three LOVE'S GREATER QUEST Simla, meanwhile, on his way Was travelling many a lonely day, Begging his meal in Yogi bowl, Blessing with grateful prayer each soul Who aided him with food or bed. And where'er he laid his head A blessing fell, a peace and joy Such as the gods above convey, To those who harbor holy saints. And Simla, now with no restraints Of wife or bairns, loved to sojourn And watch the family incense burn In homes where happy love held sway ; Loved to see the happy children play In unity and harmonious love. And ever then his thoughts would move To Sita and his children five, When they in friendly romp would strive For seats upon his knee; or throng About him, with their childish wrong For him to judge, and justice mete As they sat reverent at his feet. 80 SIMLA [81 Each home where infant life was shown Brought back a reminiscent frown; And all his heart in love went out To children, who ever thronged about Him, feeling with true childish sense His love for their sweet innocence* And if the children in each home Made somewhat sad his fate to roam, Centerless, childless, now through life, — How much more vivid came his wife Before his eyes, as he would sit Before some family altar lit, And see the sacred incense rise To Brahm upon the evening skies ; While the husband would officiate As priest, and side of him his mate. Reverent, his offering shares. As Sita had done these thirty years. And so at night no home did fail To bring before him Sita ; yet the Trail Called him again at morn. And true To Yogi pledge, he did renew Each day his journey, — travelling on Toward the forest Atamon, Where his father's soul Waited to bless him at the goal Of Yogi pilgrimage. Never twice Did the same bed his limbs entice; 82 J SIMLA Never the same town could lay claim More than one day to Simla's fame. And SO5 like Vishnu, homeless, lone, The sacrifice which must atone For sin he paid. Each step endured, More certain Moksha him assured. For toil and suffering can purge The Atman of its Maya-urge ; Can leave it, of all passion free, To find its Godward destiny. At times his aged limbs rebel ; At times he tottered, almost fell From weariness, save that the staff he keeps, Duty-emblem, propped his steps. At times at wayside shrines he'd rest A moment, hugging to his breast The beads his wife so long had used,- The only gift he'd not refused In parting. Now each bead he'd tell, Thinking of her who loved so well Her husband. At last at Atamon he arrived. Where first his heart with young love strived ; Where his father's word had made them one, Simla and Sita. Where Chelu had his son Instruction given on Brahm, on life. The soul, and love. And then had blessed the wife. SIMLA [83 The Fates had chosen, and dismissed Them townward, while he kept his tryst With Brahm as forest sage, — alone, Companionless, seeking to atone In prayer and offering for the sins of men. Now Simla stood in that same wood again, Atamon, beloved of gods, where rose The Ganges ; — whose sacred water flows, The length of Indus land and purifies The soul of everj'^ one who dies Bathed in it. At this holy spot Simla made habitation, and his thought Was focused all on Brahm and Death. And concentrating with his every breath On hope of Moksha, of deliverance From illusion, from the Maya-dance Of life, — he spent his aging days In seeking Truth, and teaching of its ways To others who as Chelas sought his hut. And so a winter passed and shut Were Simla's thoughts from worldly things. But now the new-born verdure springs From soil and shrub, from bush and tree, — And all the birds and insects glee At spring's return. The sun dries up The moisture from each flower's cup. Filling the air with fragrance sweet. And everywhere the eye doth meet 84] SIMLA Exuberant life, exuberant joy; And Nature's forces all deploy To arouse in man new-life desire, New love, new yearning, blazing fire Of mystic longing. The Maya show Of life is at its full. All bright And glorious, pranked in shining light Of April sun. Nature seductive seems. And to the heart of Simla dreams Come of early love. In spite of all His power of will, his hourly call On Brahm, to take love from his life, — His heart yearns ever for that wife. That comrade, who had shared his days Of joy and gloom. All her sweet ways Rose up and smote his memory ; And spite of all that he can try Of Yogi practice, to cast out The spell of love, it winds about His heart its clinging tendrils close. For every one he breaks a new one grows. Then Simla knew, though he had cut Love from his life, its primal root Still lived within his Being's core. Still grew as freshly as before, — When Spring, the time of flowers came. And though he daily sought to tame Its power, yet it daily with him dwelt ; SIMLA [85 Each hour his heart new longing felt For Sita. His eyes would fain rejoice At sight of her ; his ears, her voice So silvery sweet to hear ; and his hands Grieve to follow love's commands And give caress as husbands know. His thoughts upon her to bestow — His new-won truths — he often yearns ; For true love its candle ever burns At wisdom's altar, thence to bear Its gifts to the Beloved, — so to share Its spiritual wealth, its wage Of wisdom, that the giver, sage, Makes his Beloved sage also. So Simla, mazing, sees love grow Where he had thought it dead. But at last, With summer sun and autumn past, He reached again a spiritual peace; From earthly love found that release Which prayer and fasting bring. And joy Filled now his soul, — to be without annoy Of love, to be the sage again, all pure And Me from Maya's dread allure. Little he recked of Nature's subtlety, Who plays as gamblers play. Letting her victims sometimes win. Then suddenly gathering in Their utmost store of spirit wealth. For with return of each new spring, 86] SIMLA Lo, love again her lure would bring To life, and dazzle all his sense. And then with autumn would commence Again his mastery of love, only to lose His gain, when Nature did but choose Her Maya stakes to play. And more, As years went by, this agony ! Full sore He reasoned with himself. Was he Different from others who could free Their souls from life and reach the peace Of Brahm ? Why found he not release From love?. Was his suffering heart Not made like other's ? His Yogi part In life could he not play as well As other hermits who in forest dwell? So he grew ruthless toward himself; Took down the thongs from off the shelf - Mortification which he seldom used — And his poor body so abused With beating, that he helpless lay And sleepless, many a night and day With Yogi thought absorbed in Brahra. Yet all this harshness only could do harm Unto his body, for his soul still longed For Sita ; and no matter how he wronged His sense's mansion, still abode With him love's heavy tragic load. SIMLA [87 Year after year passed by, And year after year would Simla try New mortifying for his flesh, New ways to rend from him the mesh Of love's fine filaments. Yet e'er Its net he must about him wear, Its prick of longing be renewed, When spring her glorious beauty showed. At last a desperate way he sought To free, in spring, his wandering thought From sense life. If his eyes rebelled And they could be as reason held For his illusionment, better 'twere Those glowing orbs with fire to sear And sight-less live in forest dim. Then that those eyes should hinder him From Moksha. Better far to smite His eyes with blindness and escape the sight Of Maya world, than to be yearly stirred To madness by each leaf, each bird That danced or sang of love. And fiery ardor so did move His longing soul, that with a grim And steadfast purpose he did dim His heaven-granted vision, blind Himself, smite those eyes that find The world too beautiful. And gloom Of darkness settling around, the doom 88] SIMLA Of sightlessness he chose, and lived therein, Hoping at last to find release from sin. And what are Sita's thoughts and plans While Simla seeks to conquer man's Infirmity of sex? Has woman, too, No struggle of the heart to rue When her dear mate is lost? While he With hardship sought serenity Within his forest glade, his wife Was also wrestling with life, — Seeking in patience to forget her grief And in spiritual vision find relief From agonies of love. But still His memory would daily fill Her aching heart. The sight Of his dear face, once her delight To dwell upon with kindling eyes, Now hovered, as clouds roam the skies, Before her vision. Now he seems To visit her entranced dreams As living flesh ; now fades away Impalpable as light of day, There, yet not there, to seize or grasp, To comfort her with ardent clasp Of loving arms. At times her very being aches From this drear void which Dharma makes SIMLA [89 Of her necessity. No more His voice comes through the open door To greet her on return from town. No more for him a dainty gown She chooses, to adorn her form, And cheer him when harassing storm Of duties leave his brow all black. His very frown she grieves to lack, — When he was used to mildly chide, And then, all loving, her confusion hide In his strong arms, and wipe the tears And gently soothe away her fears Of his displeasure. But who can know How sad a woman's heart can grow At loss of her beloved, save one Who, Sita-like, from sun to sun Waits all in vain for the foot-fall Of him who was to her all, all That life may hold of bliss? She only knows, who craves to kiss Each relic of her absent mate ; His garments, books, his gown of state, For gala days a noble guise Attracting to him passing eyes Of pilgrims, who his wisdom saw As one well versed in Vedic Law. So Sita grieved. And yet a prayer Rose daily on the quiet air 90] SIMLA Of twilight, and again at dawn, — That Brahm would guide her, all forlorn, To wisdom, severance, and faith; Would still her heart, as Veda saith The Spirit can ; and lead her days Into a final hymn of praise And holy Brahmin peace. And yet prayer brought her no release From love ; failed to quell lo^^e ! And so in a new way she strove At length ; and a dim thought. That first at Simla's parting wrought A certain comfort to her soul. Now on her holds a strong control As something not to dream of only Within her home, all sad, all lonely, — But to cast upon the wind As ripened project of a mind Resolved to venture all her gain Of Karma to attempt a vain — It might be — but a chance Of breaking the power of sorrow's trance Upon her and her lord ; of solving now. The problem which on human brow Has had more power a gloom to move Than aught else has, — the power of love. This was her plan : to venture now Herself upon the Yogi vow SIMLA [91 Of forest meditation, leave The home so powerless to retrieve A lost love, and within the forest dim Give up her heart to thoughts of him Her love was stayed on ; there to pray, By starry night, by tropic day, For solving of this restless hold Of love upon her ; either to mould Her human heart to heavenly will And thus its earthly beatings still In Yogi peace ; or else to find Some inspiration for her mind And soul to dwell on, which might give A new solution, and let live The glowing spark of earthly love That in her bosom, far above The warmth of her devotion's vows. Still daily burns. Still daily grows More like the sacred Tapas flame, Which, so the holy Vedas claim, Burst forth from out the heart of Brahm And formed the universe, all warm. And this thought gives her heart delight : That it might chance some morning's light, Some tropic evening's softened glow, Might see her hermit-husband go Past her own hut in quest for truth. Thus she might see him without ruth, — Not breaking Dharma's sacred claim. 92] SIMLA Not calling even on his name To win him, but content to cast Her glances on him as he past ; Merely to sate her loving eyes With sight of Simla ere she dies, Merely to know that as of old He still subsists within this mould Of human flesh. Not to enmesh His heart again Would she attempt. No ! not again ! And so at last her pilgrimage Sita began. And as a forest sage Of her frail tender sex was rare, The more of honor did she share — Winning from every home and sect A gentle care, a high respect. Each town for the great honor strove That she should in its sacred grove Of banyan settle, and from there Send forth her teachings and her prayer In their behalf ; and for a while She blessed with prayer and sweet sad smile Full many a hamlet thus. But anon Her heart would prompt her to be gone Upon her quest. She could not find At any place that peace of mind Which she so craved. The holiest spot, Suited for sages, pleased her not. SIMLA [93 A constant prick, a restlessness, Urged her to travel, — until less Than twenty leagues from Simla's home Her feet, o'er weary, chanced to roam, And there a grove all filled with peace Gave to her anxious soul release From wanderlust. No strength she had For further travel. All sore and sad Her aged limbs refused to mount The path of sacrifice to its fount. From very weakness she must stop E'er she had reached the mountain-top Of spirit. Yet she was reconciled To cease her quest ; nay, even smiled As she breathed deeply of the mild And pregnant mountain air, all warm With fragrances of pine and balm Which the noon sun called forth. Above, Far crags with heaven majestic strove, — And over all the soft clouds blew Across a sky of opal hue. Far down below, the landscape filled With rustic huts and fields well tilled. Whose simple folk rejoiced in life Of home and hearth ; where ne'er a wife Wept for a husband vowed to God, As Sita had wept each day she trod The path of yearning. 94] SIMLA Perhaps this Was what distilled a subtle bliss Within her heart, the happiness of others All about her — fathers, mothers, Children, wooers and wooed — all Living in their ancestral hall Life's drama with contentedness. Or did another reason bless The patient Sita ? Was it because Only a five days' nightly pause Of foot-faring lay between her lord and her? This nearness Sita knew not. But the stir Of heart-throbs on the silent air, May it not have sent a message there Where Simla dwelt in utter lack Of love? Sent, and its message back Received of husband's greeting, of love Returned, as flies the homing dove? It may have been. We can not tell Life's hidden ways. Full well at least This mountain fastness Sita pleased. Here she relaxed her restless ways ; Here she resolved to spend her days In prayer to Brahm, in search of truth. She might become, who knows, a proof That woman's gifts and woman's mind Can also paths of wisdom find; That woman's heart and woman's soul,. As well as man's, can reach the goal SIMLA [95 Of seership. Not that she aspired To boldly climb, where men's feet tired, The steep ascent to heaven. Another way Perhaps by smiling rivers lay, And valleys basking in the sun, — Whose waters their far course should run By fallow fields, by hamlets small, To the great Ocean, mother of all. One sage might dauntless mount the sky. Another sage might peaceful lie, A shining dewdrop in that Whole Whose tidal movements ceaseless roll Their absolution to all flesh. By climbing, one escapes the mesh Of Karma ; by sinking, too. Can one not gain illumined view Of that Ancestral Peace, that Calm With which the Ocean gives the dew-drop balm? So Sita lived as hermit-wife From hermit-husband her severed life. And now, as Vida, the name and look Of Yogi nun the fond wife took. No longer Sita, to the world Her gathered wisdom she unfurled In spirit humble and devout. To all who sought her mountain-hut : — The ways of Brahm, the ways of man. And how the Spirit's bridge may span 96] SIMLA The gulf between them ; how the soul Is at once both part and whole, Atman and Purusha, spark divine ; Of cosmic Love the mystic sign She traced in nature: or she discerns In Maya's many illusive turns Reality behind the false mirage. And soon word went that a new sage, A woman sage, with truths that bless, Lived ever ready fear, distress, Or sin, to banish from the soul Of all who sought her mountain goal ; And strangers from the near and far Gathered her sacred truths to share, And the nun Vida famous grew. But Sita counted her truths too few. Though all were added to her list As teacher, if but one she missed; One truth, of all the magic key, She sought in that great mystery Of sex. If this she could but solve All about it would revolve. If this impenetrable remained, Man's whitest wisdom lay bestained With error. This was the clue she sought,- To this her deepest prayers she brought By night and day. In prayer and fast Full many a weary hour she passed ; SIMLA [97 In fast and prayer she agonized For that one gift above all prized, The mastery of sex. And now to June Her ninth year brought its golden moon. And as one night she sleepless lay And all her heart and soul did pray For revelation, lo! it came. As gentle as the roe-deer tame That once fed from her hand. No storm Of evil spirits battle form About her, as had often been. Only a quiet lake was seen, No ripple on it ; and no sigh Disturbed the white light that did lie Upon its surface, — when there burst From its fair waters what at first A giant lotus seemed. And then she saw, or else she dreamed, The great God-head unfolded quite From out the flower its glorious light, And moved to her across the flood While music sang within her blood, Reaching her very center's core. Of such a sight she dared no more Receive, but knelt and bowed her head, Fearing that further vision led Toward madness. For mortal sight 98] SIMLA Can not endure the Cosmic Light Too long. And as she trembling knelt A hand upon her head she felt, Whose touch was softer than the love Of mother to her babe. It did not move A single hair, one delicate hair Of Sita's. Yet it lingered there In such a sweet, divine caress That all her lingering heart's distress Melted as lead in fire ; and a glow As Soma can on gods bestow Thrilled all her being. She awoke. Only the lake she saw, nor broke A single ripple on its tide. And now into the mountain side It vanished. Only moonlight lay All bright around her, clear as day; And silver shone the mountain mist. Her once grief -burdened beads she kissed In joy a hundred times. She raised Her face to heaven and grateful praised The Being who had come to her. And soon a power began to stir Within her new-illumined mind And gave the clue she sought to find. All suddenly to sex. What was concealed Lay clear before her, all revealed, — Clear as the moonlight on the grass, Clear as the sharp-cut mountain pass. SIMLA [99 Simple as dawn. Yet such a light, Denied to man in man's soul-night. Only the Dawn could give. Now Sita, joyous, prayed to live This truth to share with all. Now on her face there seemed to fall, And stay henceforth, a partial gleam Of the Cosmic Light that in her dream Illumination brought. Her delicate skin Translucent grew, as is a thin And lovely shell held to the sun. And lo ! her seership had begun. Vida, the Yogi nun, from this time on As seer was hailed. Her face so shone That all, the vision which she claimed. Believed. Each day she grew more famed, And Brahmins from both near and far Journeyed to see the new bright star Mounting the zenith of seership ; Journeyed to hear from Vida's lip The truth that she alone could teach. Each year renown did farther preach Her wisdom. Till cities of the sacred stream Ganges, even those that teem With sages ; cities of Indus too, From source to mouth, sent to renew Their Vidya store. All Brahmin land Paid reverence to the mighty hand 100] SIMLA Of Brahm, that laid on Vida's head Had to illumination led And blessed the race with truth. But one Brahmin who lived sad and lone As forest-hermit, only away From Sita five days' journey , Heard not at first her growing power, — So shut out was his lonely bower From human intercourse. And when At last, upon the minds of men He heard of Vida's growing sway, The thought of seeking her he put away As childish ; as too easily Chasing a mere crude novelty From sacrilegious whim. And others' pilgrimage seemed to him A desecration of the Yogi plan, — Confession of weakness, that a man Should go to woman for his spiritual light. And yet he knew the high gods might Choose any vessel for their gifts. He knew that sometimes Brahma lifts The veil from woman, and gives her place Within the circle of Yogi grace. There had been women seers before, There might be women sages more. And as now for the first time people past His hut, seeking on foot, or slow or fast, SIMLA [101 As youth or aging limbs permit, The hut of Vida,- — desire lit His heart and burned within him strong To break his hermit life, so long In one place settled, and start out Upon the very self same route That led to Vida past his door. This plan he cherished all the more. That years to him no peace had brought Nor the wisdom that he sought. Illuminating life. He wandered still Restless though valley and o'er hill Of spirit, — though his mortal frame Paid the dues of hermit-claim And never stirred from home. And now desire to further roam Came hot upon him, — his quiet vale to leave, Five days to travel, and receive From Vida if the gods allow The blessing of peace upon his vow Of forest hermit. After all. Perhaps from woman's lips might fall. Perhaps from woman's mind might stream, Illuminated words, illuminated beam Of Brahmin ray his declining years To bless, and to remove the tears Which often blurred his spiritual sight. He would seek humbly for the Light He craved, and asking o'er and o'er. 102] SIMLA Knock even at a woman's door, — If so by God's grace there might be Solution of life's mystery. Sita one evening sat alone, Into a mood of revery thrown By trembling shadows on the ground Of full moon cast ; there was no sound Of bird or beast to break her dream. Her many years of marriage seem To pass before her, back to that night When Simla chose his faith to plight Beneath the banyan tree. Hallowed night Of love's sweet tryst, when golden moon Even as now moved all too soon From east to west ; Until the day, all newly dressed In veils of pink and robes of rose. Had brought their wedding to a close And led them forth to life, — He manful, she the trusting wife. Sweet love had blessed their thirty years Of domesticity ; — and now, She wondered beneath what bough He sat in meditation ; where he spent The years that Karma to him lent Ere life be done. And was he well or ill? Needed he a woman's care? SIMLA [103 Had the years not failed to wear Deep wrinkles on his brow ? Were all His faculties obedient to his call? Or had some mishap injured him, Taken his strength, or maimed a limb So that he needed help ? For such Is woman's greatest joy, — a crutch To be to the infirm, sight to the blind. Faith to a feeble heart, hope to a mind Despairing. She would wipe all grief With love away ; relief For every mortal ill she'd bring ; And at the cruellest task she'd sing Her chant of joy,— did she but serve One who could all her love deserve. As Sita pondered thus, she heard A rustling louder than any bird Would make; and now she could discern Emerge from the last hidden turn Her hut-path makes, a slender youth Approaching. Did he come her Truth To learn, or had he message to impart? Full soon she knew. For from his heart A leaf he drew, bowed deeply, held It moonward while he spelled Her name. *' Is this the holy forest nun, Vida? " he humbly said. 104] SIMLA " Who daily offers spiritual bread To hungry seekers? My master, too, Is one who wishes to renew His faith and wisdom at your fount." " What is his name? " Till one could count Twenty, it seemed, his answer took. While a strange emotion shook Her heart. It might be — *^ Simla," he said! The blood rushed hot to her head. Her heart beat fast ; and then so still It came, such numbness seemed to fill Her veins, she scarce could move. Almost she fainted. But she held One thought before her which repelled Her woman's w^eakness, — shame that a seer Should yield so to emotion, should so be seen By him who had the herald been Of her good fortune. So at length, By sheer will gathering up her strength. She answered, " Simla shall welcome be. Thy master, to share here with me My spiritual store. So tell him. But where Bides he? When will he come? I would proffer Him hospitality." " He dweUs But five days' march from here, where wells SIMLA [105 The holy Ganges' crystal source Ere it takes its sacred course Thiough Brahmin land. And if you will. He comes as soon as I fulfill My mission and return to him. Ten days, a fortnight, then the hymn Of greeting will he chant to you. And here before your spreading view Would he the Chela's incense burn. And quietly would here sojourn To learn from you of truth." His answer, how it seemed to soothe All her vague fears, all her distress. The gods, all kind, at last did bless Her with this meeting, with love's goal — When wife and husband soul to soul Could hold sweet converse, union find Of heart, and soul, and ripened mind. So her faint hope would be fulfilled. Her anxious longing at last stilled! And he, whom above all the prize Of sainthood, treasured in her eyes Had been, now as the devas' boon Would come within her vision soon And bless her love with peace ! No more In anxious speculations o'er His age, his happiness, his health. Her mind would turn. For all the wealth Of Indus, she would not this meeting miss ! 106] SIMLA Already thrilled her lips to kiss His aging cheeks, his noble brow, And show him that his Yogi vow Had never slain her love. — But quick A tliought came to her, that all sick Her glad heart turned. Would it be right For her as Sita to meet his sight, When Vida was the one he sought. Not wife, but nun? This question wrought A turmoil in her heart and brain. On her white light of joy a stain Of darkness cast. She must not appear As Sita to him ! She must wear A heavy veil before her eyes And her usual voice disguise, That he might know her as he thought To know, might find her as he sought To find, Vida the forest nun. Rebellion could not help but run Its course against this plan. Her heart Burned, all its wealth to him t' impart Of love. What is a keener grief Than to be shut off from all relief Of pent-up love, that doth aspire Freely to pour its hidden fire Upon the loved one, with caress Love's joy to show, love's wish to bless The dear beloved? Is not this The meaning of the tender kiss SIMLA [107 That lovers' lips do press? Quintessence of that tenderness That would with equal ardor pour Its life's blood, till the blood no more Could flow, or one's own soul as pledge To the beloved give, and count it privilege To sacrifice one's very Self for love? So Sita with this longing strove — And 3^et she knew she must oppose Restraint to ardor, fight the foes To Dharma that beset her sore, Again at Renunciation's door Her offering lay ; knew she must miss Again the ancient-longed-for bliss Of union; still as Yogi nun Remain, still be the banished wife Who may not share her husband's life. This she decided ; this with grief Resolved upon. Yet one relief A comfort brought to her sad soul : Her eyes at least could take their toll Of Simla, She at least could see his face. If she could not share embrace Of love, she could have him at her side — He would holily abide There, learning of her lore. At least This was a fragment of the feast Of love she sought. In prayer she turned 108] SIMLA To Brahm, to still the fire that burned Within her — give her strength to meet Her Simla with the happy, sweet Humility of forest saint, And grant their meeting bring no taint Upon her love. So anxious days there passed Twice seven, till at last When love's impatient longing hath Almost itself exhausted, on the path There came the sound of distant voices ; And wildly Sita's heart rejoices As she sees around the turn emerge Two forms, which slow their progress urge Toward her. — Now Sita recognized her lord ! And all her being's anguish stored Through many years — her yearning love — Against her will within her strove ; And she ran forth with joy to greet Her husband, toiling with slow feet The upward climb. But suddenly She stopped, almost about to cast Her veil aside, and hold him in her fast Embrace. Her arms outstretched Fell helpless, and a sigh she fetched From inmost bosom. Nay, a tear Silently began to wear its way Adown her cheek ; a f aintness lay SIMLA [109 Its heavy swoon upon her limbs, — And all the world about her swims. Her soul was stayed by the sad thought It was not Simla's love that brought Him to her. She must remain unknown, Wrap close the veil about her blown; He must not see her as the fair Sweet wife who ceased his days to share, But meet her only as a sage Goes forth to meet his own peerage Of mystic life and thought. " I come Vida the Yogi nun To seek, whose far renown Has spread through forest and through town. Humble, as Chela now I turn To one whose light doth brighter burn Than mine, — Humble, as searcher for divine And lofty truth must ever be. Pride never leads to immortality. Many have I taught of truth. Yet now I kneel, and nothing ruth. Before thee, who have never knelt before, Begging but to share thy lore." And as he fumbled with his staff Feeling his way to walk, a shaft Of sunset-light fell on his eyes; And Sita noticed with surprise 110] SIMLA They did not flicker, nor the lid Its tender orb safe-guarding hid. She noticed how he felt his step Slowly, as to avoid mishap. And when, reaching a fumbling hand To his young Chela, he gave conmiand: " Lead now me on," a sudden numb- Ness seized her heart ; her lips grew dumb ; And slowly over her puzzled mind The truth stole home, that he was blind ! Now was she tempted sore To rush and cast herself before His weakness. Pity moved her heart With burning impulse to impart The truth to Simla ; to make known The forest nun's identity, And test her Simla suddenly As to his love, whether it were dead Or no. But soberer thought now spread Its checking influence o'er her soul. She wanted, not his love, but the whole Sanction of his spiritual reach. He had come to hear her preach, Not to seek love. It were not just Upon him now her love to thrust. Though she had longed for such a day Of Love's return, she put away All influence of such desire, SIMLA [111 Quelled the violence of her heart's fire ; And as for Dharma she had let him go. So now for Dharma she forbore to know The joy of meeting. And as he sought In her a Guru only, naught Further would she seem to him. Though mists of tears her eyes must dim At every fumbling step he took, — Yearning with all the tenderness of wife Henceforth to guide his weary life. All, even all a woman's joy Of service, would she not allow To break the purpose of her will. Simla was forest hermit still. She was a forest nun ; and he Sought in her only spirituality ! " Welcome," she said with faltering lips ; " You who would seek, as bee that sips From every flower, wisdom's store. To the high gods I now implore For guidance, that truth may flow Into my soul, — such truth to know As led you to my humble cot. I am no miracle, God wot ! But only, like yourself, a sage To whom, seeking ever, age Has brought some measure of content To solve this life's bewilderment. 112] SIMLA What would your highness hear? Discourse to others I daily bear On life ; on destiny ; the soul And God ; the microcosm ; the Whole Of Being, in which life subsists ; Creation's agonies ; the mists Of Chaos, out of which evolve Great Suns and planets that revolve In strict obedience to the law. Or would you learn the vision that I saw Of Vishnu as fast-devouring Time, Into whose maw from every clime And stage of being, cruelly there flowed A stream of men and beasts, all blood? Or of the vision of the One Forth-shining as the Cosmic Sun In dazzling light apparelled? Or would a humbler subject suit Your fancy? Shall I to the root And quality of earthly love My learned thought affect to move, And all the secrets trace of sex, — That mystery which doth so vex The mind, the heart, the life of man? " Simla cried eager, " Tell, if you can. The mystery of sex, its place in life ; Our duty toward it ; why its strife Must stay the soul's desired peace With agonies that never cease ! " SIMLA [113 Now Sita, happy wife, rejoiced That Simla, all unknowing, voiced His love for her ; and by his fret Against love's claims, proved how as yet Love had not left him, but remains A fire of longing in his veins. This was the very theme she craved To discourse on. For this she'd braved The tropic jungle's lonely fear, Long day's desires year by year, — Until the Fates should lead her lord Thus to her, and this chance afford To teach him of the mystic light The gods had sent her in love's night. To show him forth the better way, Not darkness, but the light of day ; Not deprivation, bitterness, But how a love all pure could bless The earthly years' descending sun; And how through love, not spite it, won Could Moksha be, and heavenly joy Which kindly Fate would ne'er destroy. This was the wisdom years had brought To Sita. This truth Brahm had taught Her loving heart, her woman's mind. Should not truth be of feminine kind As well as male? Distorted view Of life might not the masculine be, That recked nought of the divinity 114] SIMLA Which dwells within the woman's soul? Two halves are needed for a whole ; Two sexes only create life. And Simla, turning from his wife To isolation and neglect Of love, perhaps in this respect Had missed of truth the hidden way. And had in error gone astray. While Sita, serving only love's behest, Had further gone in the far quest For truth, than any man. Perhaps ! The gods alone can safely guide The spirit through those deserts wide Of mixed illusions and mirage. Where oft it puzzles wisest sage To judge which is of earth or sky. And Sita did not claim an eye Clearer for truth than others were. Humility still fitted her As garments modest veiled her frame. And not for all her new-won fame Would she usurp, in Yogi pride, To be a leader or a guide To Simla. If she had wisdom to impart Which moved him, all her heart Swelled in a joyous gratitude. SIMLA [115 If she could offer spiritual food To him as she had erstwhile done To others, and his mind was won To her analysis of life, — Then for all agony of wife Torn from her husband, sad, alone, Such victory would now atone, And her dim plan of years ago Would its blessing now bestow On both ; and both as lovers sweet Could in a heavenly love now meet, And share together all life's joys Within the forest's leafy close. The hour of test at last had come ! And with glad heart, and yet fearsome. Did Sita take her unwitting lord Before her hut, a seat afford His aged limbs, and reverent, As sage to sage her manner meant. Unfold to him now the invited words On sex and love. The evening birds Who late had choristed the sun Were quiet now. Upon the horizon A faint moon glowed ; its soft sweet light Dispersed the shadows of the night ; And all in silver sheen the trees Whispered together in the breeze. Under such auspices began the speech 116]^ SIMLA Of Sita to her lord. Within reach Of her fond hand he sat! She longed To touch those eyes that Time had wronged, To stroke his silver hair and lay Her cheek against his where a ray Of moonlight showed the wrinkles deep, Or in her hand his hand to keep During this discourse ; but forbade To break the veil which Fortune had So strangely laid between them. No ! Their reconcilement must not so Be brought about. Quite calm and still She therefore sat. What dumb emotions fill Her heart and soul, stay unexplored. And so, she gave this discourse to her lord. SITA'S DISCOURSE ON LOVE " Sex is the lord of life ; For from sex, love springs And love rules all. How dull the stagnant pools of Being Until love came. Love, glowing like a golden flame That sundered its dark waters ! Then life arose And trembled on the brink of Being. Then out of formlessness came form. From dark Chaos fair new worlds. SIMLA [117 From bitter homogeneity issued forth A sweet diversity. Now separateness divides the Cosmos, Individuality of being; Myriad monads splitting from the central core, — And in them all some pang of union, Some nescience of primeval harmony, Some reminiscent yearning for identity: And this is Sex. Lives not an atom but is charged with sex. Sexless is matter not, But sexed in all its minuscules. For sex is life, — And when sex dies then life subsides Into a cosmic night. From sex, love springs in all its radiant forms,- Love, the awakener; Love, the exalter and divinest lord. Without it life were stagnant, still, and foul. Love is the running water. Dash of spray through ozone-air, Dazzling sunshine purifying self. Love is force electrical, Impelling ever to new life. Evolving ever fairer forms,- 118] SIMLA Until the archetypal ancient Beauty Stand revealed in flesh. Yet love is life's illusion, Binding close the powers of the soul To Nature's sweet behest. For Nature must have new and ever new of myriad forms. And so, the mating- thirst Is strongest thirst of man, — That from his loins the endless chain of life proceed. When love usurps its sway, All else seems valueless and stale and flat. Such power of illusion love hath, Such power of gilding life, Such golden glory bursting over every hori- zon, — That under its deep spell the earth seems para- dise. And earth's frail day Takes to itself a portion of divinity. But when Nature has its will of us. Love's glory fadeth; Heaven becomes earth again ; Immortal godhood fades to manhood, And all the tribe of human limitations Assert their force. SIMLA [119 And life is bound and prisoned And the soul, straitened there, Rebels at love, And seeks to burst its way Out from form into life's formlessness. So came the search for forest-freedom, The ascetic's quest, — Who denies allegiance to love. Lord of Life, And seeks to transcend sex. Toward Union he would other ways than union take ; Toward Brahm the Ancient, Ancient roads would find Of sexlessness, of soul's quiescence, life's nega- tion — In a word. Nirvana to attain in flesh. And yet flesh ever mocks the search. Thrusting its question on the austere soul, Of whether there be any fairer goal To life than that which Love bestows. The hermit seeks for Union, Seeks to lose himself in that Abstract De- light,— While all about him life is gay and bright, Birds singing, blossoms sweet with scent, Flowers vivid-hued, enticing insects 120] SIMLA To a feast of love. Shall he, the forest hermit, Find In the forest peace from love, When every year love reigns triumphant rounid him? It is an idle quest! So long as life beats in him And his heart floods each vein With pulsates of rich blood, — So long must love remain Lord of his being. To deny love is to deny life. To renounce it is to cease to live. What Nirvana offers of such lovelessness I know not, — But loveless, life can never here find paradise. This, hermits' features show, — Poor faces — Deep seamed. And ridged, And sterile From lava flows of love Through vents volcanic ! For love will have its way from within out- ward, — Softly and gently. Or with scoriae force. SIMLA [121 Sex is master Because life is. All things exist by contrast, — Darkness and dawn. Heat and cold, Mountain peaks and valleys low. Even the ocean and the sun-lit sky Contend in loving dalliance, That the heaven, mirrored in perfect beauty. Should on the water's bosom lie. Thus in the realm of opposites Union alone brings peace. All things exist in pairs. Save there where Brahm dwells In heights accessible to none, — Above all blame or praise. Freed from the realm of contraries, Clothed in a wholeness perfect. He only is pure Being. But all else obeys the laws of relativity. Divided into contraries. And in its struggle after harmony Love joins the contraries and produces peace. Only thus can peace be found — For in the heart of disparateness lies unceasing yearning. 122] SIMLA In all the realm of Contraries The greatest pair is Giver and Receiver; Initiator and Conserver; Sower and Fructifier. So symbols Sex. The tiniest atom, charged with spark electrical, Flies to its eager goal, Gives of its life-force to some waiting mate. One gives, the other takes, And peace is born as fruit of union, — Peace, and equilibrium, and joy of still new forms of life. From minuscule to mayorscule, From monad up to man. One is the giver and the other Blesses by receiving burning gifts of love. Such is man and woman. Masculine and feminine Brahm made, To move as power. For wherever they unite Force issues, A new thing is bom, — And following swift on throes of ecstasy crea- tive. Peace dawns. So peace and power. SIMLA [123 Irreconcilables, Are joined by only Love. And even in the realm of thought Sex dwells. For here too, one is giver And the second is recipient. One mind sows a fair thought, And the second cherishes it to blossom. One is the wielder; The other, tender, soft, and mild, Fallow-lying till the germ is brought, Furnishes a fruitful soil to thought. So all of life is relative, Absolute alone is Brahm. Here in the finite world Nothing is, but in relation to its mate. Bright is only bright When measured with the lack of light. Energy and force Require mass to work upon ; Moving power is nought Save as matched with that which resists motion. Teacher is not teacher Save as one is taught. What poet is there That craves not an audience? So infinite craves the finite; 124] SIMLA And even God were poor, Had He not beings mortal on whom to spend His Love. So Love is seen as at the root Of relativity, And sex is seen as life. What, shall God himself be bound in Love, And thou seek to escape it? Shall the whole Cosmos move In waves of Sex, And thou seek to deny it? Vain effort ! Sooner pluck the stars from heaven, Bid the sun be dark, And dim the lustre of the fulling moon, Than to cut sex from life ; Than to take Love from Being. And yet how master Love? For love must mastered be Ere the soul reach Nirvana and the goal of peace. For love brings peace. But love destroys it, too. Love raises man to height of god; But love wounds him there where he soars aloft, — And brings him, struggling, earthward. SIMLA [125 While sex is master, No Moksha is attained. Should then the sage cut sex from life? That, as I show, is an impossible solution, Since life is phased in sex. How then find harmony. How attain freedom. How become Lord of Being .^^ For this clue mankind has ever striven, — And if the gods have favored me with truth, It is not for my sake only But to bless all men. Hear thou my plan! In every problem Solution is found within that problem, Not by fleeing it. To retire from life is not to solve life; To flee from love is not to master love ; — For where'er man goes he carries with him sex. Then love must yield its own solution. Love must be studied patiently Until perception comes. Love must be cultivated where its seeds are sown; Must be raised from the dark soil Into the sunshine and the breath of God, That it may yield its perfect flower. 126] SIMLA Sex is the seed, And pure love the flower. Sex sends its roots deep earthward, That love may draw its sustenance To rise skyward. Cut the roots and the fair blossoms die. Starve sex and love is also starved. But the careful gardener is he Who trains the plant of love By science, And waters it with tears Of spiritual devotion. Ever his task it is To please the Master of the Vineyard. And from Him he learns his art Of mastery over nature's wildness. Under his skilful touch The tawdry scarlet blossoms Turn to pink petals rare; The bitter, pungent odor Yields to a perfume sweet as deva's breath. For lo ! From the same roots Spring wild excessive sprouts, Or roses heavenly fair. What folly Then To cut the roots of love SIMLA [127 And leave life's garden bare ! Rather Train the flower by that science rare Which the kind gods bestow. Move in the world. Shun not your fellow-men. Meet them rather with that great heart of love Which Krishna, Lord of Being, taught. Do not abuse sex. Do not scold it, — For lo, it will have its revenge ! But know sex as power. Use it as motive-force, Turn to it, as friend to friend. In the life of men. In the manifold complexities of human ties, Sex is the greatest friend man has. It is the generative force From which love springs, And winning charm. And glad self-sacrifice. He who loves most Lives most. He whose heart burns with the clearest Tapas flame Is nearest to the gods And yet, since sex is force, It is as dangerous 128] SIMLA As it is powerful. Only he who masters sex Is worthy of the Yogi name, — Not he whom sex doth master. For this purpose you and countless thousands Flee to the forest wilds, Seeking to master sex. The aim is worthy But the means are false. He never masters love Who flees from it. He is not lord of life Who lets life besiege him at the gates of loneli- ness. How is he master who fears love.'^ How is he conqueror, Who retires from the fray? There where love is, Is the place to conquer love. There where life is most triumphant Is the place to triumph over life. Stay in the town. Stay in the home, Fight without fear the sex-battle Where sex throws the challenge. Is it necessary to retreat to win the victory? Is that how a warrior fights? You ask for clearer counsel? It is this. SIMLA [129 You who would in forest silence Seek chastity in your declining years, Can you not find chastity at home? You who would purer purpose find for sex, Can you not find it in the midst of men? Weakling, fight where the fight is thickest ; Meet the full odds, and with God's help Be Victor! Can you not master sex While those you love still dwell around you? Can you not guide sex-forces where the tides flow full? This, then, is my counsel. When man reaches forest-hermit age, Let him renounce love of the body And seek love of soul. Let him cease to pour out sex, When sex no longer needed is To fertilize new lives. And all of sex conserved Shall then fertilize his mind and soul, Strengthen him with added power. And recreate, where once it but created. This I know ye strive to do. But it is harder thousand-fold to do Alone in forest-silence — Than with aid of one. Wife love-mate. 130] SIMLA Who aims with you at the self-same goal ; And who gives love to you daily From the deepest sources of her heart and so Love one must have, Love one must give, In order that one may truly live. It is how one gives and takes of love That proves one master, Not how one seeks to flee from love. For love cannot be fled from, But love can be transformed by daily miracle From the plane of body To the plane of soul. This seek thou : — Transmute love As lead is turned to gold ; Transmute it As nature lends the grubbing worm its fairy- wings ; Transmute it As dark turns to dawn ! Put away passion And clothe thyself with spirit. Put away lust And clothe thyself with infinite compassion. Be a lover of humanity. Be one who finds his joy in service; And with a heart that beats as tidely SIMLA [131 As beats the infinite sea, Find thy soul's companion In the great Lover, In the Cosmic Friend. Yet another mystery I disclose to thee, Greatest mystery of sex. Within thy body Are powers little dreamed of ; — Masculine and feminine, Married by the holy sacrament of priests. Symbol those elements joined in mystic union Within each individual. All is in each. Make perfect that solar circle lying in thyself, Join its two halves to one-twain. And thou art freed from sex-need of another. In most these currents languish. And stagnation calls for junction with an outer force To cause to circulate that electricity of sex On which all health, all happiness, all power de- pends. But the master-soul Is he who learns to make this circle — Dormant within him — A living current, electrical. Slow-turning in vibrant whirls harmonic. 132] SIMLA Such are tne masters, Great Leaders of the race. They have achieved electrical concurrence, And they move majestic among men, — Vibrant with sex. Vibrant with power, And needing no one to surcharge them But the Most High. Yet such a destiny for common mortals Is more a goal than a possession. It is the ideal, achieved as aeons roll Their vast time-currents toward Eternity. And to achieve this goal with harmony, Patiently and as Brahm wills, Man must mate with woman And woman mate with man. Not alone, forest-dwelling, Should one seek to perfect sex. The awakening of Kundalini Comes best with the polarity of two. Masculine and feminine currents, Intermingling, Aid to awaken each in each. Not by avoiding charm of woman But by accepting and subduing it. Grows man perfect. SIMLA [133 Then wakens bit by bit The forces of the opposite arc in him, Arc Marioltic. So wakes in woman, Through union with man's strength. The slow currents of the Christie arc. Thus man, through woman, finds him twain, And woman so through man; And richly whirling currents Of each sex in each Bring unity of sex in each, One-twain in each. And each is lost in each. Then is perfection reached. And love reciprocal becomes a ray Whereby man reaches heavenward. And woman reaches heavenward — And both grow perfect through their love of each And not through isolation. This is my teaching ; This the vision that Brahm sent. Amn ! Aum ! Aum ! Peace be with thee ! '^ She finished, and in wonder deep Simla sat dazed, as if in sleep. He moved not for a minute's space, 134] SIMLA Then a happy smile began his face To brighten which had been so sad ; And speaking reverently and glad, " Vida," he said, " your words to me Solve simply and well the mystery Of sex. You have convinced me quite, That love in hearth and home hath right To dwell ; need not abandon life ; Need not be severed from the wife The devas have assigned ! The heart Doth rightly play its proper part In life. For the wedded it were well Saintlily at home to dwell In spiritual love. Asceticism, Brahmin-way, may be as a prism Distorting the white light of truth, — ■ I know not ! am not sure 1 but ruth Falls on me that I ever left My wife — left Sita all bereft Of husband's love. If I have lonely been Grieving for her, her days have seen Perhaps still greater grief, her mate Deprived of by an unkind Fate. Truly, as well you say, no need There is to sever love from life, To tear the husband from the wife. And try to starve out sex. Better 'twere Their daily life in service share ; Replacing sex with kindliness. SIMLA [135 For passion giving tenderness. Transmuting physical to spiritual love. So live the devas in the heavens above — So may we live on earth! To Sita I would go," he sighed — And all that spiritual grace That had transfigured his sad face Departed, leaving him in gloom — " I would go back, but doom Of blindness is upon me ! How can I Take home to Sita an unseeing eye, A faltering foot, a helpless mouth to feed, My every hour her care to need? How can I burden so her life? No ! better she remain a wife Severed still from matehood, lone And sad, — - than I should try atone For sorrows past by making her a slave To my blind need. Too late I have Perceived the truths of sex, too late Regretted leaving that dear mate Who blessed my days. May she exist As happy as the dew-drops kissed By morning sun — I cannot wish her less. But I who crave her tenderness. Who fain at last would go back home, I am destined still to roam. 136] SIMLA Unblessed, life's pathways. Mayhap again In other lives we may retain Our matehood, living side by side As lovers resolute to tide The storms of life together. Heaven grant This prayer! And heaven plant Within my heart a steadfastness, That may eternal union bless Of Sita and myself ! And now, Kind nun, again I take my vow Of forest silence. I must now depart For Atamon, and my weary heart In prayer and yearning keep. The stars announce the hour of sleep. I would not longer hold you here. And your aging strength by discourse wear. Good night! Tomorrow I set forth. How much to me your words are worth I cannot tell. My gratitude In speech could only falter rude Its heartfelt depth. My hand to yours As sage to sage, belief implores To witness what I feel. Than this I can no truer speak. I kiss Your hand. And so, good night ! " Strange how one's sorrow can delight Another's heart ! Simla's sad word SIMLA [137 Had such a bliss in Sita stirred That she could scarce be still. And when Her hand he kissed, for ten Full seconds she was near to faint. Unto that happy hand a kiss she lent, Unseen. Then new speech began to move Her eager lips. " If I can prove To you, dear friend, how woman yearns To serve the helpless ; how deep burns The heart within her, all her power To use in making glad each hour Of one she loves, — if I prove this. Would you to Sita take your kiss Of husband's love again? Would you Renounce your fears, if I can show That for true woman greater joy Exists not, than to help remould Our lead of suffering into gold Of service, for the man she loves? Come, will you promise, if approves Your reason of my words, that you will go, Even with your blind footsteps slow. To Sita, your beloved? And with her dwell, There where her early love served well Your days to bless ? '' Simla a sign Of faint approval made. " I resign 138] SIMLA Myself," he said, " as erstwhile, To your wisdom. Speak. May Brahm smile Upon your words, and help you prove The steadfast power of woman's love." Then Sita seized his hand in hers And all her ardent longing stirs Her finger-tips with love. Intuition Brought Simla recognition Dim before a word she spoke. And then the golden silence broke With, " I am Sita ! " She caressed His thin wan hands. " Just now you guessed The truth. I am your loved one! And I crave only this happy boon. To serve your aging years. Believe Me, and these words receive As truth. My days no greater joy expect, Than to serve you. Do not reject My love. Do not prevent That it should be in service spent. Would you refuse to let love rise, Passion-free, to the far skies Where angels serve the heavenly throne? Such love, and such a love alone, I ask to give you. Say that you will let Sita live Beside you, share your failing life, And be to you both nurse and w^ife." SIMLA [1S9 Simla started as if to peer Within the face of Sita, and sheer Wonder stamped his features. Glad His face showed at her words. Only sad He seemed, his eyes could not behold Her whom he hastened now to fold Close to his heart. His fingers all the while, Tracing her features, found a smile, — That smile that used of old to light Her sweet face, making it a sight For men and gods to dwell on. It was the first Glad moment since they parted, it had burst The veil of sadness o'er her features cast. " Tell me," he stammered, '' what thou hast Of love retained for me, my Life, Since I set forth, abandoning the wife The gods had sent me. Can there stay Within thy soul the slightest ray Of love-light for thy parted lord.'^ '* ^' What love my heart and soul afford You," Sita cried, " these arms can prove. These kisses tell you that my love Has greater grown, not less. And all Its joy, its gladness, now would fall Shattered and worthless, if you dare refuse Its service and devotion to so use As shall employ it greatly, and to bless Your last years with its wifely tenderness. Say! Oh say, Simla! do you grant 140] SIMLA My ardent plea? May I supplant, As Sita wife, Vida the seer? May I in true light now appear As your dear mate, your life to share, Your name and pledge again to bear? Tell me your verdict, oh be quick To speak! My heart is weary, sick With longing only your words can heal.' Now Simla's seeing fingers steal Again their way on Sita's face, " Of manly love, such a disgrace As helpless brings me now to use You as a servant, I should refuse, — Did I not feel your features speak True joy in service. Such a strong And earnest plea I should do wrong To hinder. I know you speak the truth In telling of your love. The proof Lies in your eager voice, your lips So warm, your smile that slips As of old its way upon your features. Yes, I accept your offer. Dear, Dear Sita ! you shall dwell as near As flesh to flesh may dwell, the whole Of life remaining. Soul to soul With me to live, breast to breast. Till we on Brahm's great bosom rest. And you can daily to me prove SIMLA [141 In what respect a woman's love Surpasses man's. For I begin to see That woman has more capacity, More power of service, than a man. For her 'tis easier to span The gulf 'twixt flesh and soul. Her heart Aches always tenderness to impart And to receive. Her very breast On which the new bom babe can rest And find its food, is nature's sign How woman willingly can resign Her love to service. Her heart at first Does not so impetuously burst Its barriers as a man's, but each new day It reaches nearer on its way To love Divine. To bring some joy To husband, children, friends ; to employ Daily its powers suffering to relieve, — Such is true woman's love, I well perceive. I would not such a love reject, My Sita. Live with me. Teach me to respect The home in love, the flesh in love. Your greater wisdom to me prove — That you can prove it I trust well — How man and wife can spiritually dwell In pure chaste love, until that day When Death asserts resistless sway 142] SIMLA Upon our bodies. Teach me still My soul with your sweet love to fill In Devachan." He finished and a silence stilled The woodland. Sita's heart was filled With gladness ; too glad to move, Too glad to even show her love By any action. Only her prayer went up To heaven, that had brimmed her cup Of life with joy surpassing all she hoped. Then silently her fingers groped Their way to Simla's, stroked his hands. His face, his hair. And all of love's demands Were satisfied ; all her affection stored For years without relief, was poured Upon him. Simla blindly felt Her bosom on his bosom melt. Her kisses poured upon his cheek. Her tears that would not let her speak. Sita to display her joy These dumb caresses only could employ. Until her heart had poured its all Upon her lord. Then on the gods to call In grateful praise Sita began, Thinking how wonderfully her plan Of years ago had been fulfilled — More than she dared hope. For so is held Dear ever to the gods that soul SIMLA [143 Who lives intent upon a goal Of high endeavor ; who constant keeps Such goal before him, daily seeks The help of heaven, and allows no force To move him from the chosen course. If one's aim is worthy, all the power Of heaven gives protection ; every hour Brings one nearer to success. Nothing can hold him back who seeks to bless Mankind with kindly word and deed. For him Fate is as an iron steed, Rushing resistless to the destined goal. Disaster does not seek a severed soul. The child of destiny need never fear The chance of failure, — and a seer Is watched over by heaven. So Sita found The clue to sex, the clue to life, The happy service of a wife Devoted to her lord. Such success does heaven afford To all who seek? No. It depends Upon the aim ; how one's will bends Itself to heaven; whether one's plan Fits with the destined march of man And nature's striving to progress. Such aims the gods do ever bless, Such cosmic purpose ever brings success. Now of these lovers need we say How they lived happy day by day, 144] SIMLA Again domestic incense burned, their life Long parted, now as man and wife Renewed? How Simla in that place Where first he was smit with Sita's grace. Ended his days? Still Sita taught Her truths to men. Each new day brought Some distant pilgrim to her gate. And Simla gloried in his mate, Nor envied her this godlike fame. Thus they lived together and the same Year paid their mortal dues to Death. And an old tradition saith That Simla, ere he died, found sight By favor of the gods, and saw again The face he loved ; saw clear and plain The charm of nature all around, Beauty of sky, beauty of flower-strewn ground. And back of this seen world, the great Unseen He saw — the mystery of Being, The essence of Nature, whose real seeing Most eyes are blind to. What he saw Was more than mortal words express. This the gods granted him, to bless Him for his patience in affliction. His humility in life's contradiction, — That, Sita, woman, had been the seer From whom he was content Brahm's Truth to hear. SIMLA [145 So ends this tale. It is a theme Much told in Brahmin-land ; where deem They that such steadfast love as this Deserves to win its earthly bliss, Yea, and a heavenly, too ! Can human love exist more true Than Sita and Simla at last found? And are their lives forever bound Together? In some distant sphere Of service, do they still dwell as dear True help-mates whom the Gods unite? Of this, let future ages write. THE END