  "Shell-bracelets ho! Shell-bracelets ho! Fair maids and matrons come and buy!" Along the road, in morning's glow, The pedlar raised his wonted cry. The road ran straight, a red, red line, To Khirogram, for cream renowned, Through pasture-meadows where the kine, In knee-deep grass, stood magic bound And half awake, involved in mist, That floated in dun coils profound, Till by the sudden sunbeams kist Rich rainbow hues broke all around. "Shell-bracelets ho! Shell-bracelets ho!" The roadside trees still dripped with dew, And hung their blossoms like a show. Who heard the cry? 'Twas but a few, With his long stick and naked feet; A ploughman wending to his care, The field from which he hopes the wheat; An early traveller, hurrying fast To the next town; an urchin slow Bound for the school; these heard and past, Unheeding all,—"Shell-bracelets ho!" Pellucid spread a lake-like tank Beside the road now lonelier still, High on three sides arose the bank Which fruit-trees shadowed at their will; Upon the fourth side was the Ghat, With its broad stairs of marble white, And at the entrance-arch there sat, Full face against the morning light, A fair young woman with large eyes, And dark hair falling to her zone, She heard the pedlar's cry arise, And eager seemed his ware to own. "Shell-bracelets ho! See, maiden see! The rich enamel sunbeam-kist! Happy, oh happy, shalt thou be, Let them but clasp that slender wrist; They keep a lover ever true, And widowhood avert, and harm, Buy them, and thou shalt never rue. Just try them on!"—She stretched her hand, "Oh what a nice and lovely fit! No fairer hand, in all the land, And lo! the bracelet matches it." Dazzled the pedlar on her gazed Till came the shadow of a fear, While she the bracelet arm upraised Against the sun to view more clear. Oh she was lovely, but her look Had something of a high command That filled with awe. Aside she shook Intruding curls by breezes fanned And blown across her brows and face, And asked the price, which when she heard She nodded, and with quiet grace For payment to her home referred. "And where, O maiden, is thy house? But no, that wrist-ring has a tongue, No maiden art thou, but a spouse, Happy, and rich, and fair, and young." And him at home thou shalt not find; Ask for my father; at the door Knock loudly; he is deaf, but kind. Seest thou that lofty gilded spire Above these tufts of foliage green? That is our place; its point of fire Will guide thee o'er the tract between." "That is the temple spire."—"Yes, there We live; my father is the priest, The manse is near, a building fair But lowly, to the temple's east. When thou hast knocked, and seen him, say, His daughter, at Dhamaser Ghat, Shell-bracelets bought from thee to-day, And he must pay so much for that. Be sure, he will not let thee pass Without the value, and a meal, If he demur, or cry alas! No money hath he,—then reveal, "Within the small box, marked with streaks Of bright vermilion, by the shrine, The key whereof has lain for weeks Untouched, he'll find some coin,—'tis mine. The bracelet's price, now fare thee well!" She spoke, the pedlar went away, Charmed with her voice, as by some spell; While she left lonely there, prepared To plunge into the water pure, And like a rose her beauty bared, From all observance quite secure. Not weak she seemed, nor delicate, Strong was each limb of flexile grace, And full the bust; the mien elate, Like hers, the goddess of the chase On Latmos hill,—and oh, the face Framed in its cloud of floating hair, No painter's hand might hope to trace The beauty and the glory there! Well might the pedlar look with awe, For though her eyes were soft, a ray Lit them at times, which kings who saw Would never dare to disobey. Onwards through groves the pedlar sped Till full in front the sunlit spire Arose before him. Paths which led To gardens trim in gay attire Humble but neat with open door! He paused, and blest the lucky chance That brought his bark to such a shore. Huge straw ricks, log huts full of grain, Sleek cattle, flowers, a tinkling bell, Spoke in a language sweet and plain, "Here smiling Peace and Plenty dwell." Unconsciously he raised his cry, "Shell-bracelets ho!" And at his voice Looked out the priest, with eager eye, And made his heart at once rejoice. "Ho, Sankha pedlar! Pass not by, But step thou in, and share the food Just offered on our altar high, If thou art in a hungry mood. Welcome ar |
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