In the forest grove of moonlight, where the river sweetly hummed, where
the nightbird's plaintive chant broke in ecstasy the silence, where the
drooping flowers opened wide their sleep-kissed eyelids to the night and
beheld the wondrous vision of the dancing maids and Krishna.
In that hour when every maiden felt her heart grow big to bursting for
the love that in her swelled up in that hour, when every maiden saw
beside her Glorious Krishna, with His brow made fair with flowers and
His loins wreathed with lotus, when the heart of each sweet maiden
foolish because of pride, as she saw the one All Beauteous, lightly
treading at her side to the music of the dance.
One there was of all those Gopis, she the chiefest of them all, one who
knew naught else but Him; every thought of self had vanished, every
thought of aught but Him.
At His side she lightly stepped nor felt the grass 'neath her feet, nor
knew the strains of rapturous music that fell like wine upon each heart;
all she knew was Love was there, naught but this remembered she.
To the winds that came from hillsides, to the shadows that the trees
cast, did she whisper over and over that confession of her love, till
over-weighed by the sweet burden, did the winds, in languorous love,
chant and sigh, then die in silence.
And the shadows of the trees trembled at the depth of love that the maid
did whisper to them as He passed them in the dance.
Rādhā was she, youthful, lovely, she. His playmate of the forest, she,
with love-look in her face, she, the Queen of Love among them, giving
all and asking naught.
By the mighty will of Him she had come on earth to dwell, she, who ever
reigned with Him in Glory, she now walked with Him on earth.
She, the fairest of these maidens, she the rarest of them all, knowing
Love in its intensity, living all its bliss.
And when He, the Lord of Love, vanished from the dancing Gopis, she,
sweet Rādhā, with Him vanished.
And they wandered in the deep groves, these, the Twain, Who in Glory
dwelt, she the loving, He the Lover, both the Blissful, both the Purest.
He the dew-kissed flowers gathered, twining them about the maiden. But
the flowers in their beauty were not half as fair as she; and sweet
Rādhā, pearl of maidens, gazed with love-light in her eyes, knowing
naught was half so lovely as the hands that placed them there.
Thus 'they roamed in shadowy moonlight, rested here in softened shadows,
chanting love-songs to each other, knowing naught but pure delight, till
a-wearied with her roaming, Rādhā begged to cool her feet in the smiling
waves of Jumnā, that she spied there in the moonlight.
Krishna, greatest of all lovers, lightly stooped to lift the maiden, and
in loving arms to bear her where the smiling waters rippled.
But within the breast of Rādhā, at that act, pride sprang to being, and
within that home of Love vanity crept and nestled there.
For a moment Krishna held her, then with lightning swiftness from her
side He vanished.
But in that twinkle of a moment Rādhā knew what her sin was and, aware
of her enemy, the selfless love, which was her Self, her deity supreme,
arose and quenched all thirst of vanity.
Quickly gliding through the forest, she again did join the Gopis, spying
in the further distance Krishna soothing one and all. To His side she
lightly stepped, she, the radiant, she. His Heaven-Mate, purged from sin
and lightly clothed with the love that knew but Him.