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heavenly odours; shedding

Blinding brilliance; overspreading—

Boundless, beautiful—all spaces

With His all-regarding faces;

So He showed! If there should rise

Suddenly within the skies

Sunburst of a thousand suns

Flooding earth with beams undeemed-of,

Then might be that Holy One’s

Majesty and radiance dreamed of!

 

So did Pandu’s Son behold

All this universe enfold

All its huge diversity

Into one vast shape, and be

Visible, and viewed, and blended

In one Body—subtle, splendid,

Nameless—th’ All-comprehending

God of Gods, the Never-Ending

Deity!

 

But, sore amazed,

Thrilled, o’erfilled, dazzled, and dazed, Arjuna knelt; and bowed his head,

And clasped his palms; and cried, and said: Arjuna.

Yea! I have seen! I see!

Lord! all is wrapped in Thee!

The gods are in Thy glorious frame! the creatures Of earth, and heaven, and hell

In Thy Divine form dwell,

And in Thy countenance shine all the features Of Brahma, sitting lone

Upon His lotus-throne;

Of saints and sages, and the serpent races Ananta, Vasuki;

Yea! mightiest Lord! I see

Thy thousand thousand arms, and breasts, and faces, And eyes,—on every side

Perfect, diversified;

And nowhere end of Thee, nowhere beginning, Nowhere a centre! Shifts—

Wherever soul’s gaze lifts—

Thy central Self, all-wielding, and all-winning!

 

Infinite King! I see

The anadem on Thee,

The club, the shell, the discus; see Thee burning In beams insufferable,

Lighting earth, heaven, and hell

With brilliance blazing, glowing, flashing; turning Darkness to dazzling day,

Look I whichever way;

Ah, Lord! I worship Thee, the Undivided, The Uttermost of thought,

The Treasure-Palace wrought

To hold the wealth of the worlds; the Shield provided To shelter Virtue’s laws;

The Fount whence Life’s stream draws

All waters of all rivers of all being:

The One Unborn, Unending:

Unchanging and Unblending!

With might and majesty, past thought, past seeing!

 

Silver of moon and gold

Of sun are glories rolled

From Thy great eyes; Thy visage, beaming tender Throughout the stars and skies,

Doth to warm life surprise

Thy Universe. The worlds are filled with wonder Of Thy perfections! Space

Star-sprinkled, and void place

From pole to pole of the Blue, from bound to bound, Hath Thee in every spot,

Thee, Thee!—Where Thou art not,

O Holy, Marvellous Form! is nowhere found!

 

O Mystic, Awful One!

At sight of Thee, made known,

The Three Worlds quake; the lower gods draw nigh Thee; They fold their palms, and bow

Body, and breast, and brow,

And, whispering worship, laud and magnify Thee!

 

Rishis and Siddhas cry

“Hail! Highest Majesty!”

From sage and singer breaks the hymn of glory In dulcet harmony,

Sounding the praise of Thee;

While countless companies take up the story, Rudras, who ride the storms,

Th’ Adityas’ shining forms,

Vasus and Sadhyas, Viswas, Ushmapas;

Maruts, and those great Twins

The heavenly, fair, Aswins,

Gandharvas, Rakshasas, Siddhas, and Asuras,[FN#22]—

 

These see Thee, and revere

In sudden-stricken fear;

Yea! the Worlds,—seeing Thee with form stupendous, With faces manifold,

With eyes which all behold,

Unnumbered eyes, vast arms, members tremendous, Flanks, lit with sun and star,

Feet planted near and far,

Tushes of terror, mouths wrathful and tender;—

The Three wide Worlds before Thee

Adore, as I adore Thee,

Quake, as I quake, to witness so much splendour!

 

I mark Thee strike the skies

With front, in wondrous wise

Huge, rainbow-painted, glittering; and thy mouth Opened, and orbs which see

All things, whatever be

In all Thy worlds, east, west, and north and south.

 

O Eyes of God! O Head!

My strength of soul is fled,

Gone is heart’s force, rebuked is mind’s desire!

When I behold Thee so,

With awful brows a-glow,

With burning glance, and lips lighted by fire Fierce as those flames which shall

Consume, at close of all,

Earth, Heaven! Ah me! I see no Earth and Heaven!

Thee, Lord of Lords! I see,

Thee only-only Thee!

Now let Thy mercy unto me be given,

 

Thou Refuge of the World!

Lo! to the cavern hurled

Of Thy wide-opened throat, and lips white-tushed, I see our noblest ones,

Great Dhritarashtra’s sons,

Bhishma, Drona, and Karna, caught and crushed!

 

The Kings and Chiefs drawn in,

That gaping gorge within;

The best of both these armies torn and riven!

Between Thy jaws they lie

Mangled full bloodily,

Ground into dust and death! Like streams down-driven With helpless haste, which go

In headlong furious flow

Straight to the gulfing deeps of th’ unfilled ocean, So to that flaming cave

Those heroes great and brave

Pour, in unending streams, with helpless motion!

 

Like moths which in the night

Flutter towards a light,

Drawn to their fiery doom, flying and dying, So to their death still throng,

Blind, dazzled, borne along

Ceaselessly, all those multitudes, wild flying!

 

Thou, that hast fashioned men,

Devourest them again,

One with another, great and small, alike!

The creatures whom Thou mak’st,

With flaming jaws Thou tak’st,

Lapping them up! Lord God! Thy terrors strike From end to end of earth,

Filling life full, from birth

To death, with deadly, burning, lurid dread!

Ah, Vishnu! make me know

Why is Thy visage so?

Who art Thou, feasting thus upon Thy dead?

 

Who? awful Deity!

I bow myself to Thee,

Namostu Te, Devavara! Prasid![FN#23]

O Mightiest Lord! rehearse

Why hast Thou face so fierce?

Whence doth this aspect horrible proceed?

 

Krishna.

Thou seest Me as Time who kills,

Time who brings all to doom,

The Slayer Time, Ancient of Days, come hither to consume; Excepting thee, of all these hosts of hostile chiefs arrayed, There stands not one shall leave alive the battlefield! Dismayed No longer be! Arise! obtain renown! destroy thy foes!

Fight for the kingdom waiting thee when thou hast vanquished those.

By Me they fall—not thee! the stroke of death is dealt them now, Even as they show thus gallantly; My instrument art thou!

Strike, strong-armed Prince, at Drona! at Bhishma strike! deal death On Karna, Jyadratha; stay all their warlike breath!

‘Tis I who bid them perish! Thou wilt but slay the slain; Fight! they must fall, and thou must live, victor upon this plain!

 

Sanjaya.

Hearing mighty Keshav’s word,

Tremblingly that helmed Lord

Clasped his lifted palms, and—praying

Grace of Krishna—stood there, saying,

With bowed brow and accents broken,

These words, timorously spoken:

 

Arjuna.

Worthily, Lord of Might!

The whole world hath delight

In Thy surpassing power, obeying Thee;

The Rakshasas, in dread

At sight of Thee, are sped

To all four quarters; and the company

 

Of Siddhas sound Thy name.

How should they not proclaim

Thy Majesties, Divinest, Mightiest?

Thou Brahm, than Brahma greater!

Thou Infinite Creator!

Thou God of gods, Life’s Dwelling-place and Rest!

 

Thou, of all souls the Soul!

The Comprehending Whole!

Of being formed, and formless being the Framer; O Utmost One! O Lord!

Older than eld, Who stored

The worlds with wealth of life! O Treasure-Claimer, Who wottest all, and art

Wisdom Thyself! O Part

In all, and All; for all from Thee have risen Numberless now I see

The aspects are of Thee!

Vayu[FN#24] Thou art, and He who keeps the prison Of Narak, Yama dark;

And Agni’s shining spark;

Varuna’s waves are Thy waves. Moon and starlight Are Thine! Prajapati

Art Thou, and ‘tis to Thee

They knelt in worshipping the old world’s far light, The first of mortal men.

Again, Thou God! again

A thousand thousand times be magnified!

Honour and worship be—

Glory and praise,—to Thee

Namo, Namaste, cried on every side;

 

Cried here, above, below,

Uttered when Thou dost go,

Uttered where Thou dost come! Namo! we call; Namostu! God adored!

Namostu! Nameless Lord!

Hail to Thee! Praise to Thee! Thou One in all; For Thou art All! Yea, Thou!

Ah! if in anger now

Thou shouldst remember I did think Thee Friend, Speaking with easy speech,

As men use each to each;

Did call Thee “Krishna,” “Prince,” nor comprehend Thy hidden majesty,

The might, the awe of Thee;

Did, in my heedlessness, or in my love,

On journey, or in jest,

Or when we lay at rest,

Sitting at council, straying in the grove, Alone, or in the throng,

Do Thee, most Holy! wrong,

Be Thy grace granted for that witless sin!

For Thou art, now I know,

Father of all below,

Of all above, of all the worlds within

 

Guru of Gurus; more

To reverence and adore

Than all which is adorable and high!

How, in the wide worlds three

Should any equal be?

Should any other share Thy Majesty?

 

Therefore, with body bent

And reverent intent,

I praise, and serve, and seek Thee, asking grace.

As father to a son,

As friend to friend, as one

Who loveth to his lover, turn Thy face

 

In gentleness on me!

Good is it I did see

This unknown marvel of Thy Form! But fear Mingles with joy! Retake,

Dear Lord! for pity’s sake

Thine earthly shape, which earthly eyes may bear!

 

Be merciful, and show

The visage that I know;

Let me regard Thee, as of yore, arrayed

With disc and forehead-gem,

With mace and anadem,

Thou that sustainest all things! Undismayed Let me once more behold

The form I loved of old,

Thou of the thousand arms and countless eyes!

This frightened heart is fain

To see restored again

My Charioteer, in Krishna’s kind disguise.

 

Krishna.

Yea! thou hast seen, Arjuna! because I loved thee well, The secret countenance of Me, revealed by mystic spell, Shining, and wonderful, and vast, majestic, manifold, Which none save thou in all the years had favour to behold; For not by Vedas cometh this, nor sacrifice, nor alms, Nor works well-done, nor penance long, nor prayers, nor chaunted psalms,

That mortal eyes should bear to view the Immortal Soul unclad, Prince of the Kurus! This was kept for thee alone! Be glad!

Let no more trouble shake thy heart, because thine eyes have seen My terror with My glory. As I before have been So will I be again for thee; with lightened heart behold!

Once more I am thy Krishna, the form thou knew’st of old!

 

Sanjaya.

These words to Arjuna spake

Vasudev, and straight did take

Back again the semblance dear

Of the well-loved charioteer;

Peace and joy it did restore

When the Prince beheld once more

Mighty BRAHMA’s form and face

Clothed in Krishna’s gentle grace.

 

Arjuna.

Now that I see come back, Janardana!

This friendly human frame, my mind can think Calm thoughts once more; my heart beats still again!

 

Krishna.

Yea! it was wonderful and terrible

To view me as thou didst, dear Prince! The gods Dread and desire continually to view!

Yet not by Vedas, nor from sacrifice,

Nor penance, nor gift-giving, nor with prayer Shall any so behold, as thou hast seen!

Only by fullest service, perfect faith,

And uttermost surrender am I known

And seen, and entered into, Indian Prince!

Who doeth all for Me; who findeth Me

In all; adoreth always; loveth all

Which I have made, and Me, for Love’s sole end That man, Arjuna! unto Me doth wend.

 

HERE ENDETH CHAPTER XI. OF THE BHAGAVAD-GITA, Entitled “Viswarupadarsanam,”

Or “The Book of the Manifesting of the One and Manifold.”

CHAPTER XII

Arjuna.

Lord! of the men who serve Thee—true in heart—

As God revealed; and of the men who serve, Worshipping Thee Unrevealed, Unbodied, Far, Which take the better way of faith and life?

 

Krishna.

Whoever serve Me—as I show Myself—

Constantly true, in full devotion fixed, Those hold I very holy. But who serve—

Worshipping Me The One, The Invisible,

The Unrevealed, Unnamed, Unthinkable,

Uttermost, All-pervading, Highest, Sure—

Who thus adore Me, mastering their sense, Of one set mind to all, glad in all good, These blessed souls come unto Me.

 

Yet, hard

The travail is for such as bend their minds To reach th’ Unmanifest That viewless path Shall scarce be trod by man

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