"By all things sacred, I entreat, By Penitence that purifies, By prompt Obedience, full, complete, To spiritual masters, in the eyes Of gods so precious, by the love I bear my husband, by the faith That looks from earth to heaven above, And by thy own great name O Death, And all thy kindness, bid me not To leave thee, and to go my way, But let me follow as I ought Thy steps and his, as best I may.
"I know that in this transient world All is delusion,--nothing true; I know its shows are mists unfurled To please and vanish. To renew Its bubble joys, be magic bound In _Maya's_ network frail and fair, Is not my aim! The gladsome sound Of husband, brother, friend, is air To such as know that all must die, And that at last the time must come, When eye shall speak no more to eye And Love cry,--Lo, this is my sum.
"I know in such a world as this No one can gain his heart's desire, Or pass the years in perfect bliss; Like gold we must be tried by fire; And each shall suffer as he acts And thinks,--his own sad burden bear; No friends can help,--his sins are facts That nothing can annul or square, And he must bear their consequence. Can I my husband save by rites? Ah, no,--that were a vain pretence, Justice eternal strict requites.
"He for his deeds shall get his due As I for mine: thus here each soul Is its own friend if it pursue The right, and run straight for the goal; But its own worst and direst foe If it choose evil, and in tracks Forbidden, for its pleasure go. Who knows not this, true wisdom lacks, Virtue should be the turn and end Of every life, all else is vain, Duty should be its dearest friend If higher life, it would attain."
"So sweet thy words ring on mine ear, Gentle Savitri, that I fain Would give some sign to make it clear Thou hast not prayed to me in vain. Satyavan's life I may not grant, Nor take before its term thy life, But I am not all adamant, I feel for thee, thou faithful wife! Ask thou aught else, and let it be Some good thing for thyself or thine, And I shall give it, child, to thee, If any power on earth be mine."
"Well be it so. My husband's sire, Hath lost his sight and fair domain, Give to his eyes their former fire, And place him on his throne again." "It shall be done. Go back, my child, The hour wears late, the wind feels cold, The path becomes more weird and wild, Thy feet are torn, there's blood, behold! Thou feelest faint from weariness, Oh try to follow me no more; Go home, and with thy presence bless Those who thine absence there deplore."