Kumarasambhava 7.44

7.44

ekaiva mūrtirbibhide tridhā sā sāmānyameṣāṃ prathamāvaratvam |
viṣṇorharastasya hariḥ kadācidvedhāstayostāvapi dhāturādyau ||

Hark! from the glorious bands that lead the way,
Harp, drum, and pipe, and shrilling trumpet's bray,
Burst through the sky upon the startled ear
And tell the Gods the hour of worship 's near.
They came; the Sun presents a silken shade
Which Heaven's own artist for the God had made,
Gilding his brows, as though bright Ganga rolled
Adown his holy head her waves of gold.
She in her Goddess-shape divinely fair,
And Yamuna, sweet River-Nymph, were there.
Fanning their Lord, that fancy still might deem
Swans waved their pinions round each Lady of the Stream.
E'en Brahma came—Creator—Lord of Might,—
And Vishnu glowing from the realms of light;
"Ride on!" they cried, "thine, thine for ever be
The strength, the glory, and the victory!"
To swell his triumph that high blessing came
Like holy oil upon the rising flame.
In those Three Persons the one God was shown,
Each First in place, each Last,—not one alone;
Of Siva, Vishnu, Brahma, each may be
First, second, third, among the Blessed Three.
By Indra led, each World-upholding Lord
With folded hands the mighty God adored,—
In humble robes arrayed, the pomp and pride
Of glorious Deity were laid aside;
They signed to Nandi, and the favourite's hand
Guided his eye upon the suppliant band.
He spake to Vishnu, and on Indra smiled,
To Brahma bowed—the Lotus' mystic child;
On all the hosts of heaven his friendly eye
Beamed duly welcome as they crowded nigh.
The Seven Great Saints their blessings o'er him shed,
And thus in answer, with a smile, he said:—
"Hail, mighty Sages! hail, ye Sons of Light!
My chosen Priests to celebrate this rite."
Now in sweet tones the Heavenly Minstrels tell
His praise, beneath whose might Tripura fell;
He moves to go; from his Moon-crest a ray
Sheds quenchless light on his triumphant way.
On through the air his swift Bull bore him well,
Decked with the gold of many a tinkling bell;
Tossing from time to time his head on high,
Enwreathed with clouds as he flew racing by.
As though in furious charge he had uptorn
A bank of clay upon his mighty horn.