ON THE DEATH OF THE NUN RIGUWAÑ

Ofttimes in far Corea didst thou hear Of our Cipango as a goodly land; And so, to parents and to brethren dear Bidding adieu, thou sailed'st to the strand Of these domains, that own th' imperial pow'r, Where glittering palaces unnumbered rise; Yet such might please thee not, nor many a bow'r Where village homesteads greet the pilgrim's eyes:— But in this spot, at Sahoyáma's base, Some secret influence bade thee find thy rest— Bade seek us out with loving eagerness, As seeks the weeping infant for the breast. And here with aliens thou didst choose to dwell, Year in, year out, in deepest sympathy; And here thou buildest thee an holy cell; And so the peaceful years went gliding by. But ah! what living thing mote yet avoid Death's dreary summons?—And thine hour did sound When all the friends on whom thine heart relied Slept on strange pillows on the mossy ground. So, while the moon lit up Kasuga's crest, O'er Sahogáha's flood thy corse they bore To fill a tomb upon yon mountain's breast, And dwell in darkness drear for evermore. No words, alas! nor efforts can avail:— Nought can I do, poor solitary child! Nought can I do but make my bitter wail, And pace the room with cries and gestures wild, Ceaselessly weeping, till my snowy sleeve Is wet with tears. Who knows? Perchance, again Wafted, they're borne upon the sighs I heave, On 'Arima's far distant heights to rain.