Savitri

Wilt thou not make this mortal bliss thy sphere?

Descend, O Happiness, with thy moon-gold feet,

Enrich earth’s floors upon whose sleep we lie.

O my bright beauty’s princess, Savitri,

By my delight and thy own joy compelled

Enter my life, thy chamber and thy shrine.

In the great quietness where spirits meet,

Led by my hushed desire into my woods

Let the dim rustling arches over thee lean;

One with the breath of things eternal live,

Thy heartbeats near to mine, till there shall leap

Enchanted from the fragrance of the flowers

A moment which all murmurs shall recall

And every bird remember in its cry.

Out of the voiceless mystery of the past

In a present ignorant of forgotten bonds

These spirits met upon the roads of Time.

Yet in the heart their secret conscious selves

At once aware grew of each other warned

By the first call of a delightful voice

And a first vision of the destined face.

So now they met in that momentous hour,

So utter the recognition in the deeps,

The remembrance lost, the oneness felt and missed

“O Satyavan, I have heard thee and I know;

I know that thou and only thou art he.”

Then down she came from her high carven car

Descending with a soft and faltering haste;

Her many-hued raiment glistening in the light

Hovered a moment over the wind-stirred grass,

Mixed with a glimmer of her body’s ray

Like lovely plumage of a setting bird.

(Savitri, Book 5 Canto 3)