Nearer came the fatal morning by the holy Narad told,
Fair Savitri reckoned daily and her heart was still and cold,
Three short days remaining only! and she took a vow severe
Of triratra, three nights' penance, holy fasts and vigils drear!
Of Savitri's rigid penance heard the king with anxious woe,
Spake to her in loving accents, so the vow she might forgo:
“Hard the penance, gentle daughter, and thy woman's limbs are frail,
After three nights' fasts and vigils sure thy tender health may fail!”
“Be not anxious, loving father,” meekly thus Savitri prayed,
“Penance I have undertaken, will unto the gods be made.”
Much misdoubting then the monarch gave his sad and slow assent,
Pale with fast and unseen tear-drops, lonesome nights Savitri spent.
Nearer came the fatal morning, and to-morrow he shall die,
Dark, dark hours of nightly silence! Tearless, sleepless is her eye!
“Dawns that dread and fated morning!” said Savitri, bloodless, brave,
Prayed her fervent prayers in silence, to the Fire oblations gave,
Bowed unto the forest Brahmans, to the parents kind and good,
Joined her hands in salutation and in reverent silence stood.
With the usual morning blessing, “Widow may'st thou never be,”
Anchorites and agéd Brahmans blessed Savitri fervently,