1. Shiv and the Grasshopper
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(The song that Toomai's mother sang to the baby)
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Shiv, who poured the harvest and made the winds to blow,
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Sitting at the doorways of a day of long ago,
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Gave to each his portion, food and toil and fate,
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From the King upon the guddee to the Beggar at the gate.
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All things made he—Shiva the Preserver.
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Mahadeo! Mahadeo! He made all,—
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Thorn for the camel, fodder for the kine,
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And mother's heart for sleepy head, O little son of mine!
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Wheat he gave to rich folk, millet to the poor,
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Broken scraps for holy men that beg from door to door;
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Battle to the tiger, carrion to the kite,
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And rags and bones to wicked wolves without the wall at night.
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Naught he found too lofty, none he saw too low—
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Parbati beside him watched them come and go;
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Thought to cheat her husband, turning Shiv to jest—
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Stole the little grasshopper and hid it in her breast.
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So she tricked him, Shiva the Preserver.
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Mahadeo! Mahadeo! Turn and see.
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Tall are the camels, heavy are the kine,
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But this was Least of Little Things, O little son of mine!
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When the dole was ended, laughingly she said,
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"Master, of a million mouths, is not one unfed?"
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Laughing, Shiv made answer, "All have had their part,
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Even he, the little one, hidden 'neath thy heart."
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From her breast she plucked it, Parbati the thief,
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Saw the Least of Little Things gnawed a new-grown leaf!
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Saw and feared and wondered, making prayer to Shiv,
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Who hath surely given meat to all that live.
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All things made he—Shiva the Preserver.
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Mahadeo! Mahadeo! He made all,—
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Thorn for the camel, fodder for the kine,
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