As when the flowers are budding on a vine,
    Or white swans rest upon a river’s shore,
  Or when at night the stars in heaven shine,
    Her lovely beauty grew with gems she wore.

  When wide-eyed glances gave her back the same
    Bright beauty—­and the mirror never lies—­
  She waited with impatience till he came: 
    For women dress to please their lovers’ eyes.

Meanwhile Shiva finishes his preparations, and sets out on his wedding journey, accompanied by Brahma, Vishnu, and lesser gods.  At his journey’s end, he is received by his bride’s father, and led through streets ankle-deep in flowers, where the windows are filled with the faces of eager and excited women, who gossip together thus: 

  For his sake it was well that Parvati
    Should mortify her body delicate;
  Thrice happy might his serving-woman be,
    And infinitely blest his bosom’s mate.

Shiva and his retinue then enter the palace, where he is received with bashful love by Parvati, and the wedding is celebrated with due pomp.  The nymphs of heaven entertain the company with a play, and Shiva restores the body of Love.

Eighth canto.  The honeymoon.—­The first month of marital bliss is spent in Himalaya’s palace.  After this the happy pair wander for a time among the famous mountain-peaks.  One of these they reach at sunset, and Shiva describes the evening glow to his bride.  A few stanzas are given here.

  See, my beloved, how the sun
    With beams that o’er the water shake
  From western skies has now begun
    A bridge of gold across the lake.

  Upon the very tree-tops sway
    The peacocks; even yet they hold
  And drink the dying light of day,
    Until their fans are molten gold.

  The water-lily closes, but
    With wonderful reluctancy;
  As if it troubled her to shut
    Her door of welcome to the bee.

  The steeds that draw the sun’s bright car,
    With bended neck and falling plume
  And drooping mane, are seen afar
    To bury day in ocean’s gloom.

  The sun is down, and heaven sleeps: 
    Thus every path of glory ends;
  As high as are the scaled steeps,
    The downward way as low descends.

Shiva then retires for meditation.  On his return, he finds that his bride is peevish at being left alone even for a little time, and to soothe her, he describes the night which is now advancing.  A few stanzas of this description run as follows.

  The twilight glow is fading far
    And stains the west with blood-red light,
  As when a reeking scimitar
    Slants upward on a field of fight.

  And vision fails above, below,
    Around, before us, at our back;
  The womb of night envelops slow
    The world with darkness vast and black.

  Mute while the world is dazed with light,
    The smiling moon begins to rise
  And, being teased by eager night,
    Betrays the secrets of the skies.