The Guru's tale: The enchanted night

When falling evening cooled the air,The Guru, in the twilight dim,Caressed his Chela's silken hairAnd told this tale of love to him.

"Once, on the march to Bikanir,I, halting by a wayside well,Beheld a woman drawing nearWho cast on me a magic spell.

"Not hers the beauty, day by daySoliciting by tender lures,But that which strikes the heart straightway,And instant victory ensures.

"She murmured, stretching forth her arms,Her red, love-thirsty lips apart,'At sunset,—under yonder palms,—Come to my garden,—and my heart!'

"Ah, that unending afternoon!The sun seemed tethered in the sky.I felt my inmost senses swoonWith my desire's intensity.

"The silver twilight came at length,I reached the garden cool and sweet,And all my eager youth and strengthLay at her small and jewelled feet.

"Three nights we gathered our delight:I had almost kissed her lips away,Yet still her eyes, alert and bright,Resented the invading day.

"Alas, the fourth delirious eveEnded in terrified surprise:Her lamp alight she was wont to leaveFor love allured her through the eyes.

"This night she cried in passionate pain,Her heart seemed broken in her breast,'Thy beauty is too great a strain,Let us put out the light and rest.'

("Perchance you hold the speech too strong,Or my recording it, conceit,Ah, surely one who has lived so longMay own her words were true as sweet.)

"Then I, half rising to obey,Beheld a strange and terrible sight,'Take not,' she said, 'thyself away,For I will quench the offending light.'

"She raised her arm, bejewelled and small,It lengthened,—stretched across the room,—Put out the light on the opposite wall,And then,—diminished in the gloom!

"My pulses stopped, my passion died;The square, rose-scented chamber ranTo thrice our length, from side to side,And yet her arm had bridged the span!

"I wrenched myself from her embrace,And, heeding not her desperate cryFled from that strange, enchanted placeAs deer before the Cheetah fly.

"Beneath the starlight, cool and clear,I raced across the sands alone,And realised in stricken fearNo mortal mistress I had known.

"My spirit told me, as I sped,Some tortured soul, escaped from hell,One of the lonely, loveless deadHad risen and wooed me by the well.

"Ah, Best-Beloved, though Youth be sweet,He leads us to strange depths and heights.Now leave me; later we shall meetFor worship with the Circling Lights."