  (What follows is to the Music GurjjarÎ and the Mode Yati.) The lesson that thy faithful love has taught him He has heard; The wind of spring, obeying thee, hath brought him At thy word; To thy mind? MÂ kooroo mÂnini mÂnamayÈ, Ah, be kind! No longer from his earnest eyes conceal Thy delights; Lift thy face, and let the jealous veil reveal All his rights; The glory of thy beauty was but given For content; MÂ kooroo mÂnini mÂnamayÈ, Oh, relent! Remember, being distant, how he bore thee In his heart; Look on him sadly turning from before thee To depart; Is he not the soul thou lovedst, sitting lonely In the wood? MÂ kooroo mÂnini mÂnamayÈ, 'Tis not good! He who grants thee high delight in bridal-bower Pardons long; What the gods do love may do at such an hour Without wrong; Why weepest thou? why keepest thou in anger Thy lashes down? MÂ kooroo mÂnini mÂnamayÈ, Do not frown! Lift thine eyes now, and look on him, bestowing, Without speech; Let him pluck at last the flower so sweetly growing In his reach; The fruit of lips, of loving tones, of glances That forgive; MÂ kooroo mÂnini mÂnamayÈ, Let him live! Let him speak with thee, and pray to thee, and prove thee All his truth; Let his silent loving lamentation move thee Asking ruth; He is there; MÂ kooroo mÂnini mÂnamayÈ, Thou must hear! O rare voice, which is a spell Unto all on earth who dwell! O rich voice, of rapturous love, Making melody above! Krishna's, Hari's—one in two, Sound these mortal verses through! Sound like that soft flute which made Such a magic in the shade— Calling deer-eyed maidens nigh, Waking wish and stirring sigh, Thrilling blood and melting breasts, Whispering love's divine unrests, Winning blessings to descend, Bringing earthly ills to end;— Me thou heard in this song now Thou, the great Enchantment, thou! (Here ends that Sarga of the GÎta Govinda entitled
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