{"collection":"Hinduism","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/hin/rama/ry214.htm","path":"hin/rama/ry214.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/hin/rama/ry214.htm","text":"While there the high-souled hero spent\n His tranquil hours in sweet content,\n The glowing autumn passed, and then\n Came winter so beloved of men.\n \u00a0\u00a0 One morn, to bathe, at break of day\n To the fair stream he took his way.\n Behind him, with the Maithil dame\n Bearing a pitcher Lakshman came,\n And as he went the mighty man\n Thus to his brother chief began:\n \u00a0\u00a0 'The time is come, to thee more dear\n Than all the months that mark the year\n The gracious seasons' joy and pride,\n By which the rest are glorified.\n A robe of hoary rime is spread\n O'er earth, with cold engarlanded.\n The streams we loved no longer please,\n But near the fire we take our ease,\n Now pious men to God and shade\n Offer young corn's fresh sprouted blade,\n And purge away their sins with fire\n Bestowed in humble sacrifice.\n Rich stores of milk delight the swain,\n And hearts are cheered that longed for gain.\n Proud kings whose breasts for conquests glow\n Lead bannered troops to smite the foe.\n Dark is the north: the Lord of Day\n To Yama's south \u00a01 has turned away:\n And she--sad widow--shines no more,\n Reft of the bridal mark \u00a02 she wore.\n Him\u00e1laya's hill, ordained of old\n The treasure-house of frost and cold,\n Scarce conscious of the feebler glow,\n Is truly now the Lord of Snow.\n Warmed by the noontide's genial rays\n Delightful are the glorious days:\n But how we shudder at the chill\n Of evening shadows and the rill!\n How weak the sun, how cold the breeze!\n How white the rime on grass and trees!\n The leaves are sere, the woods have lost\n Their blossoms killed by nipping frost.\n Neath open skies we sleep no more:\n December's nights with rime are hoar:\n Their triple watch \u00a03 in length extends\n With hours the shortened daylight lends.\n No more the moon's sun-borrowed rays\n Are bright, involved in misty haze,\n As when upon the mirror's sheen\n The breath's obscuring cloud is seen.\n E'en at the full the faint beams fail\n To struggle through the darksome veil:\n Changed like her hue, they want the grace\n That parts not yet from S\u00edt\u00e1's face.\n Cold is the western wind, but how\n Its piercing chill is heightened now,\n Blowing at early morning twice\n As furious with its breath of ice!\n See how the dewy tears they weep\n The barley, wheat, and woodland steep,\n Where, as the sun goes up the sky.\n The curlew and the s\u00e1ras cry.\n See where the rice plants scarce uphold\n Their full ears tinged with paly gold,\n Bending their ripe heads slowly down\n Fair as the date tree's flowery crown.\n Though now the sun has mounted high\n Seeking the forehead of the sky,\n Such mist obscures his struggling beams,\n No bigger than the moon he seems.\n Though weak at first, his rays at length\n Grow pleasant in their noonday strength,\n And where a while they chance to fall\n Fling a faint splendour over all.\n \n \n See, o'er the woods where grass is wet\n With hoary drops that cling there yet,\n With soft light clothing earth and bough\n There steals a tender glory now.\n Yon elephant who longs to drink,\n Still standing on the river's brink,\n Plucks back his trunk in shivering haste\n From the cold wave he fain would taste.\n The very fowl that haunt the mere\n Stand doubtful on the bank, and fear\n To dip them in the wintry wave\n As cowards dread to meet the brave.\n The frost of night, the rime of dawn\n Bind flowerless trees and glades of lawn:\n Benumbed in apathetic chill\n Of icy chains they slumber still.\n You hear the hidden s\u00e1ras cry\n From floods that wrapped in vapour lie,\n And frosty-shining sands reveal\n Where the unnoticed rivers steal.\n The hoary rime of dewy night,\n And suns that glow with tempered light\n Lend fresh cool flavours to the rill\n That sparkles from the tompost hill.\n The cold has killed the lily's pride:\n Leaf, filament, and flower have died:\n With chilling breath rude winds have blown,\n The withered stalk is left alone.\n At this gay time, O noblest chief,\n The faithful Bharat, worn by grief,\n Lives in the royal town where he\n Spends weary hours for love of thee.\n From titles, honour, kingly sway,\n From every joy he turns away:\n Couched on cold earth, his days are passed\n With scanty fare and hermit's fast.\n This moment from his humble bed\n He lifts, perhaps, his weary head,\n And girt by many a follower goes\n To bathe where silver Sarj\u00fa flows.\n How, when the frosty morn is dim,\n Shall Sarj\u00fa be a bath for him\n Nursed with all love and tender care,\n So delicate and young and fair.\n How bright his hue! his brilliant eye\n With the broad lotus leaf may vie.\n By fortune stamped for happy fate,\n His graceful form is tall aud straight.\n In duty skilled, his words are truth:\n He proudly rules each lust of youth.\n Though his strong arm smites down the foe,\n In gentle speech his accents flow.\n Yet every joy has he resigned\n And cleaves to thee with heart and mind.\n Thus by the deeds that he has done\n A name in heaven has Bharat won,\n For in his life he follows yet\n Thy steps, O banished anchoret.\n Thus faithful Bharat, nobly wise,\n The proverb of the world belies:\n 'No men, by mothers' guidance led,\n The footsteps of their fathers tread.'\n How could Kaikey\u00ed, blest to be\n Spouse of the king our sire, and see\n A son like virtuous Bharat, blot\n Her glory with so foul a plot!'\n \u00a0\u00a0 Thus in fraternal love he spoke,\n And from his lips reproaches broke:\n But R\u00e1ma grieved to hear him chide\n The absent mother, and replied:\n \u00a0\u00a0 'Cease, O beloved, cease to blame\n Our royal father's second dame.\n Still speak of Bharat first in place\n Of old Ikshv\u00e1ku's princely race.\n My heart, so firmly bent but now\n To dwell in woods and keep my vow,\n Half melting as I hear thee speak\n Of Bharat's love, grows soft and weak,\n With tender joy I bring to mind\n His speeches ever sweet and kind.\n That dear as Amrit took the sense\n With most enchanting influence.\n Ah, when shall I, no more to part,\n Meet Bharat of the mighty heart?\n When, O my brother, when shall we\n The good and brave S'atrughna see?'\n Thus as he poured his fond lament\n The son of Raghu onward went:\n They reached the river, and the three\n Bathed them in fair God\u00e1var\u00ed.\n Libations of the stream they paid\n To every deity and shade,\n With hymns of praise, the Sun on high\n And sinless Gods to glorify.\n Fresh from the purifying tide\n \u00a0\u00a0 Resplendent R\u00e1ma came,\n With Lakshman ever by his side,\n \u00a0\u00a0 And the sweet Maithil dame.\n So Rudra shines by worlds adored,\n \u00a0\u00a0 In glory undefiled,\n When Nandi \u00a01 stands beside his lord,\n And King Him\u00e1laya's child. \u00a02\n \n \n \n \n248:1 The south is supposed to be the residence of the departed.\n248:2 The sun.\n248:3 The night is divided into three watches of four hours each.","title":"BOOK III: Canto XVI.: Winter.","type":"page"}