At length their horns, whose mocking echoes
Rolled from hill to hill, were answered from below,
While from the park a gay procession comes,
Increasing as it moves, to welcome her,
Light of the palace, the people's idol, home.

The prince's thoughts by day and dreams by night
Meanwhile were filled with sweet Yasodhara,
And this bright vision ever hovering near
Hid from his eyes those grim and ghastly forms,
Night-loving and light-shunning brood of sin,
That ever haunt poor fallen human lives,
And from the darkened corners of the soul
Are quick to sting each pleasure with sharp pain,
To pour some bitter in life's sweetest cup,
And shadow with despair its brightest hopes--
Made him forget how sorrow fills the world,
How strength is used to crush and not to raise,
How creeds are bandages to blind men's eyes,
Lest they should see and walk in duty's path
That leads to peace on earth and joy in heaven,
And even made him for the time forget
His noble mission to restore and save.

He sought her for his bride, but waited long,
For princes cannot wed like common folk--
Friends called, a feast prepared, some bridal gifts,
Some tears at parting and some solemn vows,
Rice scattered, slippers thrown with noisy mirth,
And common folk are joined till death shall part.