The Ramayana Part 191

Now mark that glade amid the trees Where once we lived as devotees.

See, see our leafy cot between Those waving boughs of densest green, Where Rava? seized his prize and stole My love the darling of my soul.

O, look again: beneath thee gleams G.o.davari the best of streams, Whose lucid waters sweetly glide By lilies that adorn her side.

There dwelt Agastya, holy sage, In plantain-sheltered hermitage.

See Sarabhanga's humble shed Which sovereign Indra visited.

See where the gentle hermits dwell Neath Atri's rule who loved us well; Where once thine eyes were blest to see His sainted dame who talked with thee.

Now rest thine eyes with new delight On Chitraku?a's woody height, See Jumna flashing in the sun Through groves of brilliant foliage run.

Screened by the shade of spreading boughs.

There Bharadvaja keeps his vows, There Ganga, river of the skies, Rolls the sweet wave that purifies, There Sringavera's towers ascend Where Guha reigns, mine ancient friend.

I see, I see thy glittering spires, Ayodhya, city of my sires.

Bow down, bow down thy head, my sweet, Our home, our long-lost home to greet."

Canto CXXVI. Bharat Consoled.

But Rama bade the chariot stay, And halting in his airy way, In Bharadvaja's holy shade His homage to the hermit paid.

"O saint," he cried, "I yearn to know My dear Ayodhya's weal and woe.

O tell me that the people thrive, And that the queens are yet alive."

Joy gleamed in Bhardvaja's eye, Who gently smiled and made reply: "Thy brother, studious of thy will, Is faithful and obedient still.

In tangled twine he coils his hair: Thy safe return is all his care.

Before thy shoes he humbly bends, And to thy house and realm attends.

When first these dreary years began, When first I saw the banished man, With Sita, in his hermit coat, At this sad heart compa.s.sion smote.

My breast with tender pity swelled: I saw thee from thy home expelled, Reft of all princely state, forlorn, A hapless wanderer travel-worn, Firm in thy purpose to fulfil Thy duty and thy father's will.

But boundless is my rapture now: Triumphant, girt with friends, art thou.

Where'er thy wandering steps have been, Thy joy and woe mine eyes have seen.

Thy glorious deeds to me art known, The Brahmans saved, the foes o'erthrown.

Such power have countless seasons spent In penance and devotion lent.

Thy virtues, best of chiefs, I know, And now a boon would fain bestow.

This hospitable gift(1024) receive: Then with the dawn my dwelling leave."

The bended head of Rama showed His reverence for the grace bestowed; Then for each brave companion's sake He sought a further boon and spake:

"O let that mighty power of thine The road to fair Ayodhya line With trees where fruit of every hue The Vanars' eye and taste may woo, And flowers of every season, sweet With stores of honeyed juice, may meet."

The hero ceased: the hermit bent His reverend head in glad a.s.sent; And swift, as Bharadvaja willed, The prayer of Rama was fulfilled.

For many a league the lengthening road Trees thick with fruit and blossom showed With luscious beauty to entice The taste like trees of Paradise.

The Vanars pa.s.sed beneath the shade Of that delightful colonnade, Still tasting with unbounded glee The treasures of each wondrous tree.

Canto CXXVII. Rama's Message.

But Rama, when he first looked down And saw afar Ayodhya's town, Had called Hanuman to his side, The chief on whom his heart relied, And said: "Brave Vanar, good at need, Haste onward, to Ayodhya speed, And learn, I pray, if all be well With those who in the palace dwell.

But as thou speedest on thy way Awhile at Sringavera stay.

Tell Guha the Nishadas' lord, That victor, with my queen restored, In health and strength with many a friend Homeward again my steps I bend.

Thence by the road that he will show On to Ayodhya swiftly go.

There with my love my brother greet, And all our wondrous tale repeat.

Say that victorious in the strife I come with Lakshma? and my wife, Then mark with keenest eye each trace Of joy or grief on Bharat's face.

Be all his gestures closely viewed, Each change of look and att.i.tude.

Where breathes the man who will not cling To all that glorifies a king?

Where beats the heart that can resign An ancient kingdom, nor repine To lose a land renowned for breeds Of elephants and warrior steeds?

If, won by custom day by day, My brother Bharat thirsts for sway, Still let him rule the nations, still The throne of old Ikshvaku fill.

Go, mark him well: his feelings learn, And, ere we yet be near return."

He ceased: and, garbed in human form, Forth sped Hanuman swift as storm.

Sublime in air he rose, and through The region of his father flew.

He saw far far beneath his feet Where Ganga's flood and Jumna meet.

Descending from the upper air He entered Sringavera, where King Guha's heart was well content To hear the message Rama sent.

Then, with his mighty strength renewed, The Vanar chief his way pursued, Valukini was far behind, And Gomati with forests lined, And golden fields and pastures gay With flocks and herds beneath him lay.

Then Nandigrama charmed his eye Where flowers were bright with every dye, And trees of lovely foliage made With meeting boughs delightful shade, Where women watched in trim array Their little sons' and grandsons' play.

His eager eye on Bharat fell Who sat before his lonely cell.

In hermit weed, with tangled hair, Pale, weak, and worn with ceaseless care.

His royal pomp and state resigned For Rama still he watched and pined, Still to his dreary vows adhered, And royal Rama's shoes revered.

Yet still the terror of his arm Preserved the land from fear and harm.

The Wind-G.o.d's son, in form a man, Raised reverent hands and thus began: "Fond greeting, Prince, I bring to thee, And Rama's self has sent it: he For whom thy spirit sorrows yet As for a hapless anch.o.r.et In Da??ak wood, in dire distress, With matted hair and hermit dress.

This sorrow from thy bosom fling, And hear the tale of joy I bring.

This day thy brother shalt thou meet Exulting in his foe's defeat, Freed from his toil and lengthened vow, The light of victory on his brow, With Sita, Lakshma? and his friends Homeward at last his steps he bends."

Then joy, too mighty for control, Rushed in full flood o'er Bharat's soul; His reeling sense and strength gave way, And fainting on the earth he lay, At length upspringing from the ground, His arms about Hanuman wound, With tender tears of rapture sprung, He dewed the neck to which he clung: "Art thou a G.o.d or man," he cried, "Whom love and pity hither guide?

For this a hundred thousand kine, A hundred villages be thine.

A score of maids of spotless lives To thee I give to be thy wives, Of golden hue and bright of face, Each lovely for her tender grace."

He ceased a while by joy subdued, And then his eager speech renewed.

Canto CXXVIII. Hanuman's Story.

"In doubt and fear long years have pa.s.sed And glorious tidings come at last.

True, true is now the ancient verse Which men in time of bliss rehea.r.s.e: "Once only in a hundred years Great joy to mortal men appears."

But now his woes and triumph tell, And loss and gain as each befell."

He ceased: Hanuman mighty-souled The tale of Rama's wanderings told From that first day on which he stood In the drear shade of Da??ak wood.

He told how fierce Viradha fell; He told of Sarabhanga's cell Where Rama saw with wondering eyes Indra descended from the skies.

He told how Surpa?akhi came, Her soul aglow with amorous flame, And fled repulsed, with rage and tears, Reft of her nose and severed ears.

He told how Rama's might subdued The giants' furious mult.i.tude; How Khara with the troops he led And Trisiras and Dusha? bled: How Rama, tempted from his cot, The golden deer pursued and shot, And Rava? came and stole away The Maithil queen his hapless prey, When, as he fought, the dame to save, His n.o.ble life Jatayus gave: How Rama still the the search renewed, The robber to his hold pursued, Bridging the sea from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e, And found his queen to part no more.(1025)

Canto CXXIX. The Meeting With Bharat.

O'erwhelmed with rapture Bharat heard The tale that all his being stirred, And, heralding the glad event, This order to Satrughna sent: "Let every shrine with flowers be gay Let incense burn and music play.