A History of Indian Literature v2.c19.s3.t1.88

v2.c19.s3.t1.88

“Past are the days when was she whose child
Was lost! Men to that past belong—for me!
I do not grieve, I am not shedding tears.
And as for thee, good sir, I fear thee not.
Lost on all sides is love of worldly joys.
The gloom of ignorance is rent in twain.
Defeating all the myrmidons of death,
Here do I bide (to rest), sane and immune.”[^1)