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Vastness of sky; the scintillating spangle Of moon-wooed seas; the seven-tinted bangle Of the rare rainbow round the wrist of space... Mrigavati, his queen, was steeped in grace, Her nature brimmed with bounty; when she smiled She drew the hearts of woman, man and child Who thought she was a being half-divine, Worthy of being installed within a shrine.
When Mahavir arrived, both king and queen Observed : though he was seen he was unseen, A simultaneous Image as of One For whom the light of heaven had begun, He walked for miles and miles and did not speak : His very silence rippled, a unique River of calm inviting all to dip Within its depths in high companionship. Even to gaze upon his form began For multitudes the sense as of one Man, One Singlehood untroubled and unsplit Into the many; lonely Infinite Cancelling all sense of finite.
All who saw Mahavir, felt he was himself the Law Manoeuvring creation; even though He had as yet a long long way to go Ere he could reach the goal. He took a pledge Fire-terrible, sharp as a razor's edge; Mahavir had set out alone to carve
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