The repentant Hari at length returns, and in speech well calculated to win forgiveness, thus pleads his pardon:
“Oh! grant me a draught of honey from the lotus of thy mouth: or if thou art inexorable, grant me death from the arrows of thine eyes; make thy arms my chains: thou art my ornament; thou art the pearl in the ocean of my mortal birth! Thine eyes, which nature formed like blue water-lilies, are become through thy resentment like petals of the crimson lotus! Thy silence affects me; oh! speak with the voice of music, and let thy sweet accents allay my ardour” [543].
“Radha with timid joy, darting her eyes on Govinda while she musically sounded the rings of her ankles and the bells of her zone,[[42]] entered the mystic bower of her beloved. His heart was agitated by her sight, as the waves of the deep are affected by the lunar orb.[[43]] From his graceful waist flowed a pale yellow robe,[[44]] which resembled the golden dust of the water-lily scattered over its blue petals.[[45]] His locks interwoven with blossoms, were like a cloud variegated by the moonbeam. Tears of transport gushed in a stream from the full eyes of Radha, and their watery glances beamed on her best beloved. Even shame, which had before taken its abode in their dark pupils, was itself ashamed,[[46]] and departed when the fawn-eyed Radha gazed on the bright face of Krishna.”
The poet proceeds to describe Apollo’s bower on the sable Yamuna, as ‘Love’s recess’; and sanctifies it as
... The ground
Where early Love his Psyche’s zone unbound.[[47]]
In the morning the blue god aids in Radha’s simple toilet. He stains her eye with antimony “which would make the blackest bee envious,” places “a circle of musk on her forehead,” and intertwines “a chaplet of flowers and peacock’s feathers in her dark tresses,” replacing “the zone of golden bells.” The bard concludes as he commenced, with an eulogium on the inspirations of his muse, which it is evident were set to music. “Whatever is delightful in the modes of music, whatever is graceful in the fine strains of poetry, whatever is exquisite in the sweet art of love, let the happy and wise learn from the songs of Jayadeva.”