Now Ráma, ere the night was fled,
O'er many a league of road had sped,
Till, as his course he onward held,
The morn the shades of night dispelled.
The rites of holy dawn he paid,
And all the country round surveyed.
He saw, as still he hurried through
Wth steeds which swift as arrows flew,
Hamlets and groves with blossoms fair,
And fields which showed the tillers' care,
While from the clusteied dwellings near
The words of peasants reached his ear:
'Fie on our lord the king, whose soul
Is yielded up to love's control!
Fie on the vile Kaikevi! Shame
On that malicious sinful dame,
Who, keenly bent on cruel deeds,
No hounds of righht and virtue heeds,
But with her wicked art has sent
So good a prince to banishment,
Wi-o, tender-hearted, ruling well
His senses in the woods to dwell.
Ah cruel king! his heart of steel
For his own son no love could feel,
Who with the sinless Ráma parts,
The darling of the people's hearts.'
These words he heard the peasants say,
Who dwelt in hamlets by the way,
And, lord of all the realm by right,
Through Kosala pursued his flight.
Through the auspicious flood, at last,
Of Vesasruti's stream he passed,
Aud onward to the place he sped
By Saint Agastya tenanted.
Still on for many an hour he hied,
And crossed the stream whose fooling tide
Rolls onward till she meets the sea,
The herd-frequented Gomatil
Borne by his rapid horses o'er,
He reached that river's further shore.
And Syandiká's,whose svan-loved stream,
Resounded with the peacock's scream.
Then as he journeyed on his road
To hvs Videhan bride he showed
The populous land which Manu old
To King IKshvaku gave to hold.
The glorious prince, the lord of men
Looked on the charioteer, and then
Voiced like a wild swan, loud and clear.
He spake these words and bade him hear:
'When shall I, with returning feet
My father and my mother meet?
When shall I lead the hunt once more
In bloomy woods on Sarju's shore?
Most eagerly I long to ride
Urging the chase on Sarju's side.
For royal saints have seen no blame
In this, the monarch's matchless game.'
Thus speeding on,--no reft or stay,--
Ikshvaku's son pursued his way.
Oft his sweet voice the silence broke,
And thus on varied themes he spoke.