"When Kroona-flowers, that open at a lover's lightest tread, Break, and, for shame at what they hear, from white blush and modest red; And all the spears on all the boughs of all the Ketuk-glades Seem ready darts to pierce the hearts of wandering youths and maids; ‘Tis there thy Krishna dances till the merry drum is done, All in the sunny Spring-time, when who can live alone?"