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mansions of eternal joy,

      By penance won, thou mayst destroy,

      My path to these thy shaft may stay.

      Now to the work! No more delay!

      I know thee Lord of Gods; I know

      Thy changeless might laid Madhu low.

      All other hands would surely fail

      To bend this bow. All hail! all hail!

      See! all the Gods have left the skies

      To bend on thee their eager eyes,

      With whose achievements none compete,

      Whose arm in war no God can meet.

      No shame is mine, I ween, for thou,

      Lord of the Worlds, hast dimmed my brow.

      Now, pious Ráma, ’tis thy part

      To shoot afar that glorious dart:

      I, when the fatal shaft is shot,

      Will seek that hill and tarry not.”

      He ceased. The wondrous arrow flew,

      And Jamadagni’s offspring knew

      Those glorious worlds to him were barred,

      Once gained by penance long and hard.

      Then straight the airy quarters cleared,

      And the mid regions bright appeared,

      While Gods and saints unnumbered praised

      Ráma, the mighty bow who raised.

      And Jamadagni’s son, o’erawed.

      Extolled his name with highest laud,

      With reverent steps around him strode,

      Then hastened on his airy road.

      Far from the sight of all he fled,

      And rested on Mahendra’s head.

      Canto 77. Bharat’s Departure.

      Then Ráma with a cheerful mind

      The bow to Varuṇ‘s hand resigned.

      Due reverence to the saints he paid,

      And thus addressed his sire dismayed:

      “As Bhrigu’s son is far from view,

      Now let the host its march pursue,

      And to Ayodhyá‘s town proceed

      In four-fold bands, with thee to lead.”

      King Daśaratha thus addressed

      His lips to Ráma’s forehead pressed,

      And held him to his aged breast.

      Rejoiced in sooth was he to know

      That Bhrigu’s son had parted so,

      And hailed a second life begun

      For him and his victorious son.

      He urged the host to speed renewed,

      And soon Ayodhyá‘s gates he viewed.

      High o’er the roofs gay pennons played;

      Tabour and drum loud music made;

      Fresh water cooled the royal road,

      And flowers in bright profusion glowed.

      Glad crowds with garlands thronged the ways

      Rejoicing on their king to gaze

      And all the town was bright and gay

      Exalting in the festive day.

      People and Bráhmans flocked to meet

      Their monarch ere he gained the street.

      The glorious king amid the throng

      Rode with his glorious sons along,

      And passed within his dear abode

      That like Himálaya’s mountain showed.

      And there Kauśalyá, noble queen,

      Sumitrá with her lovely mien,

      Kaikeyí of the dainty waist,

      And other dames his bowers who graced,

      Stood in the palace side by side

      And welcomed home each youthful bride:

      Fair Sítá, lofty-fated dame,

      Urmilá of the glorious fame,

      And Kuśadhwaj’s children fair,

      With joyous greeting and with prayer,

      As all in linen robes arrayed

      With offerings at the altars prayed.

      Due reverence paid to God above,

      Each princess gave her soul to love,

      And hidden in her inmost bower

      Passed with her lord each blissful hour.

      The royal youths, of spirit high,

      With whom in valor none could vie,

      Lived each within his palace bounds

      Bright as Kuvera’s pleasure-grounds,

      With riches, troops of faithful friends,

      And bliss that wedded life attends:

      Brave princes trained in warlike skill,

      And duteous to their father’s will.

      At length the monarch called one morn

      Prince Bharat, of Kaikeyí born,

      And cried: “My son, within our gates

      Lord Yudhájit thine uncle waits.

      The son of Kekaya’s king is he,

      And came, my child, to summon thee.”

      Then Bharat for the road prepared,

      And with Śatrughna forth he fared.

      First to his sire he bade adieu,

      Brave Ráma, and his mothers too.

      Lord Yudhájit with joyful pride

      Went forth, the brothers by his side,

      And reached the city where he dwelt:

      And mighty joy his father felt.

      Ráma and Lakshmaṇ honoured still

      Their godlike sire with duteous will.

      Two constant guides for Ráma stood,

      His father’s wish, the people’s good.

      Attentive to the general weal

      He thought and wrought to please and heal.

      His mothers too he strove to please

      With love and sonly courtesies.

      At every time, in every spot,

      His holy guides he ne’er forgot.

      So for his virtues kind and true

      Dearer and dearer Ráma grew

      To Daśaratha, Bráhmans, all

      In town and country, great and small.

      And Ráma by his darling’s side

      Saw many a blissful season glide,

      Lodged in her soul, each thought on her,

      Lover, and friend,

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