The song of Kilvani: fairest she In all the land of Savatthi. She had one child, as sweet and gay And dear to her as the light of day.
She was so young, and he so fair, The same bright eyes and the same dark hair; To see them by the blossomy way, They seemed two children at their play.
There came a death-dart from the sky, Kilvani saw her darling die. The glimmering shade his eyes invades, Out of his cheek the red bloom fades;
His warm heart feels the icy chill, The round limbs shudder, and are still. And yet Kilvani held him fast Long after life's last pulse was past,
As if her kisses could restore The smile gone out for evermore. But when she saw her child was dead, She scattered ashes on her head,
And seized the small corpse, pale and sweet, And rushing wildly through the street, She sobbing fell at Buddha's feet. “Master, all-helpful, help me now!
Here at thy feet I humbly bow; Have mercy, Buddha, help me now!” She grovelled on the marble floor, And kissed the dead child o'er and o'er.
And suddenly upon the air There fell the answer to her prayer: “Bring me to-night a lotus tied With thread from a house where none has died.”
The evening came — so still and fleet - And overtook her hurrying feet. And, heartsick, by the sacred fane She fell, and prayed the god again.
She sobbed and beat her bursting breast: “Ah, thou hast mocked me, Mightiest! Lo! I have wandered far and wide; There stands no house where none hath died.”
And Buddha answered, in a tone Soft as a flute at twilight blown, But grand as heaven and strong as death To him who hears with ears of faith:
“Child, thou art answered. Murmur not! Bow, and accept the common lot.” Kilvani heard with reverence meet, And laid her child at Buddha's feet.
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