And when the last ray of the moon was seen, into the waters of the laughing river they plunged; and ere the sun with ardent eye did awaken the sleeping Brindāban, each maiden singing homeward went, transformed into a being of unalloyed love.
CHAPTER XXV.
In the forest grove of moonlight, where the river sweetly hummed, where the nightbird's plaintive chant broke in ecstasy the silence, where the drooping flowers opened wide their sleep-kissed eyelids to the night and beheld the wondrous vision of the dancing maids and Krishna.
In that hour when every maiden felt her heart grow big to bursting for the love that in her swelled up in that hour, when every maiden saw beside her Glorious Krishna, with His brow made fair with flowers and His loins wreathed with lotus, when the heart of each sweet maiden foolish because of pride, as she saw the one All Beauteous, lightly treading at her side to the music of the dance.
One there was of all those Gopis, she the chiefest of them all, one who knew naught else but Him; every thought of self had vanished, every thought of aught but Him.
At His side she lightly stepped nor felt the grass 'neath her feet, nor knew the strains of rapturous music that fell like wine upon each heart; all she knew was Love was there, naught but this remembered she.
To the winds that came from hillsides, to the shadows that the trees cast, did she whisper over and over that confession of her love, till over-weighed by the sweet burden, did the winds, in languorous love, chant and sigh, then die in silence.
And the shadows of the trees trembled at the depth of love that the maid did whisper to them as He passed them in the dance.
Rādhā was she, youthful, lovely, she. His playmate of the forest, she, with love-look in her face, she, the Queen of Love among them, giving all and asking naught.
By the mighty will of Him she had come on earth to dwell, she, who ever reigned with Him in Glory, she now walked with Him on earth.