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And festooning fragrant garlands were harmonious interlaced!

      Far below from spacious gateways rose the people's gathering cry,

       And from far the swan-white mansions caught the ravished gazer's eye,

      Richly graced with precious metals shone the turrets bright and gay,

       Like the rich-ored shining turrets of the lofty Himalay.

      And the scene bedecked by rishis and by priests and kings of might, Shone like azure sky in splendour, graced by deathless Sons of Light!

      Spake Yudhishthir unto Bhishma, elder of the Kuru race,

       Unto Drona proud preceptor, rich in lore and warlike grace,

      Spake to wise preceptor Kripa, versed in sacred rites of old,

       To Duryodhan and his brothers, honoured guests and kinsmen bold:

      “Friends and kinsmen, grant your favour and your sweet affection lend,

       May your kindness ever helpful poor Yudhishthir's rite attend,

      As your own, command my treasure, costly gifts and wealth untold,

       To the poor and to the worthy scatter free my gems and gold!”

      Speaking thus he made his diksha, and to holy work inclined, To his friends and to his kinsmen all their various tasks assigned:

      Proud Duhsasan in his bounty spread the rich and sumptuous feast,

       Drona's son with due devotion greeted saint and holy priest,

      Sanjay with a regal honour welcomed king and chief of might,

       Bhishma and the pious Drona watched the sacrificial rite,

      Kripa guarded wealth and treasure, gold and gems of untold price,

       And with presents unto Brahmans sanctified the sacrifice,

      Dhrita-rashtra, old and sightless, through the scene of gladness strayed,

       With a careful hand Vidura all the mighty cost defrayed,

      Proud Duryodhan took the tribute which the chiefs and monarchs paid,

       Pious Krishna unto Brahmans honour and obeisance made.

      'Twas a gathering fair and wondrous on fair Jumna's sacred shore,

       Tributes in a thousand nishkas every willing monarch bore,

      Costly gifts proclaimed the homage of each prince of warlike might,

       Chieftains vied with rival chieftains to assist the holy rite.

      Bright Immortals, robed in sunlight, sailed across the liquid sky,

       And their gleaming cloud-borne chariots rested on the turrets high!

      Hero-monarchs, holy Brahmans, filled the halls bedecked in gold,

       White-robed priests adept in mantra mingled with the chieftains bold.

      And amidst this scene of splendour, pious-hearted, pure and good,

       Like the sinless god Varuna, gentle-souled Yudhishthir stood,

      Six bright fires Yudhishthir lighted, offerings made to gods above,

       Gifts unto the poor and lowly spake the monarch's boundless love.

      Hungry men were fed and feasted with an ample feast of rice,

       Costly gifts to holy Brahmans graced the noble sacrifice,

      Ida, ajya, homa offerings, pleased the “Shining Ones” on high, Brahmans pleased with costly presents with their blessings filled the sky!

      III

      Glimpses of the Truth

      Dawned the day of abhisheka, proud anointment, sacred bath, Crownéd kings and learnéd Brahmans crowded on Yudhishthir's path,

      And as gods and heavenly rishis throng in Brahma's mansions bright, Holy priests and noble monarchs graced the inner sacred site!

      Measureless their fame and virtue, great their penance and their power,

       And in converse deep and learned Brahmans passed the radiant hour,

      And on subjects great and sacred, oft divided in their thought,

       Various sages in their wisdom various diverse maxims taught,

      Weaker reasons seemed the stronger, faultless reasons often failed,

       Keen disputants like the falcon fell on views their rivals held!

      Some were versed in Laws of Duty, some the Holy Vows professed,

       Some with gloss and varied comment still his learned rival pressed,

      Bright the concourse of the Brahmans unto sacred learning given,

       Like the concourse of the bright stars in the glorious vault of heaven,

      None of impure caste and conduct trespassed on the holy site,

       None of impure life and manners stained Yudhishthir's sacred rite!

      Deva-rishi, saintly Narad, marked the sacrificial rite, Sanctifying by its lustre good Yudhishthir's royal might,

      And a ray of heavenly wisdom lit the rishi's inner eye, As he saw the gathered monarchs in the concourse proud and high!

      He had heard from lips celestial in the heavenly mansions bright,

       All these kings were god incarnate, portions of Celestial Light,

      And he saw in them embodied beings of the upper sky,

       And in lotus-eyéd Krishna saw the Highest of the High!

      Saw the ancient Narayana, great Creation's Primal Cause,

       Who had sent the gods as monarchs to uphold his righteous laws,

      Battle for the cause of virtue, perish in a deadly war,

       Then to seek their upper mansions in the radiant realms afar!

      “Narayana, World's Preserver, sent immortal gods on earth,

       He himself in race of Yadu hath assumed his mortal birth,

      Like the moon among the planets born in Vrishni's noble clan—

       He whom bright gods render worship—Narayana, Son of Man,

      Primal Cause and Self-created! when is done his purpose high,

       Narayana leads Immortals to their dwelling in the sky.”

      Such bright glimpses of the Secret flashed upon his inner sight,

       As in lofty contemplation Narad gazed upon the rite.

      IV

      The Arghya

      Outspake Bhishma to Yudhishthir: “Monarch of this wide domain,

       Honour due to crowned monarchs doth our sacred law ordain,

      Arghya to the wise Preceptor, to the Kinsman and to Priest,

       To the Friend and to the Scholar, to the King as lord of feast,

      Unto these is due the arghya, so our holy writs have said, Therefore to these kings assembled be the highest honour paid,

      Noble are these crownéd monarchs, radiant like the noonday sun,

       To the noblest, first in virtue, be the foremost honour done!”

      “Who is noblest,” quoth Yudhishthir, “in this galaxy of fame,

       Who of chiefs and crownéd monarchs doth our foremost honour claim?”

      Pond'ring spake the ancient Bhishma in his accents deep and clear:

      

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