The King of kings   The King of kings has made you a king, Your sceptre gave, your throne of gold, Men and fair maids for retinue, Your swords of sheen, your warriors bold, Your crown, your flag, your victor-pomps, High elephants and steeds of pride, The wise to counsel, the strong to serve, And queens of beauty at your side.   To me He gave His alms of grace, My little wallet full of songs, His azure heavens for my robe, His earth, my seat, to me belongs. My sleeping room is His wide world, Planet and star for bulb and lamp: The King of kings who beggared me Walks by my side, a comrade t

  Virata Parva FRAGMENTS FROM ADHYAYA 17 "Arise! arise! why sleepest thou, Bhemasena, like one that is dead? For how is he other than dead, whose wife a wretch has touched and lives?"   as a queen of beasts Her sleeping lion in the trackless wood Or a she elephant her mate, pressed Bhema All to her bosom. Then as a sweet-voiced lyre Exultantly to music swooning, grasps Gandhara's strain, with such a cry the pale Panchalian called her lord. "Arise, arise, Why dost thou sleep, O Bhema, like one dead! Not other than dead is he whose wife the wretch That touched, yet lives."   Page – 66  

  Act V   Scene. — Outside the King's tents near Pratisthana. In the background the confluence of the rivers Ganges and Yamuna. Manavaka alone.   MANAVAKA After long pleasuring with Urvasie In Nandan and all woodlands of the Gods, Our King's at last returned, and he has entered His city, by the jubilant people met With splendid greetings, and resumed his toils. Ah, were he but a father, nothing now Were wanting to his fullness. This high day At confluence of great Ganges with the stream Dark Yamuna, he and his Queen have bathed. Just now he passed into his tent, and surely His girls adorn him. I will go exact