This is the appointed night,

The night of joy and consecrated mirth,

When, from his judgement-seat in Padalon,

By Yamen’s throne,

Baly goes forth, that he may walk the Earth

Unseen, and hear his name

Still hymn’d and honour’d by the grateful voice

Of humankind, and in his fame rejoice.

Therefore from door to door, and street to street,

With willing feet,

Shaking their firebrands, the glad children run;

Baly! great Baly! they acclaim,

Where’er they run they bear the mighty name;

Where’er they meet,

Baly! great Baly! still their choral tongues repeat.

Therefore at every door the votive flame

Through pendant lanthorns sheds its painted light,

And rockets hissing upward through the sky,

Fall like a shower of stars

From Heaven’s black canopy.

Therefore, on yonder mountain’s templed height,

The brazen cauldron blazes through the night.

Huge as a Ship that travels the main sea

Is that capacious brass; its wick as tall

As is the mast of some great admiral.

Ten thousand votaries bring

Camphor and ghee to feed the sacred flame;

And while, through regions round, the nations see

Its fiery pillar curling high in heaven,

Baly! great Baly! they exclaim,

For ever hallowed be his blessed name!

Honour and praise to him for ever more be given!