{"collection":"Hinduism","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/hin/rama/ry431.htm","path":"hin/rama/ry431.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/hin/rama/ry431.htm","text":"Again her eyes with tears o'erflowed.\n She gazed upon the head he showed.\n Gazed on the bow so famed of yore,\n The glorious bow which R\u00e1ma bore.\n She gazed upon his cheek and brows,\n The eyes of her beloved spouse;\n His lips, the lustre of his hair,\n The priceless gem that glittered there.\n The features of her Lord she knew,\n And, pierced with anguish at the view,\n She lifted up her voice and cried:\n \u00a0 \"Kaikey, are thou satisfied?'\n Now all thy longings are fulfilled;\n The joy of Rughu's race is killed,\n And ruined is the ancient line,\n Destroyer, by that hand of thine.\n Ah, what offense, O cruel dame,\n What fault in R\u00e1ma couldst thou blame,\n To drive him clad in hermit dress\n With Sit\u00e1 to the wilderness?'\n \u00a0 Great trembling seized her frame, and she\n Fell like a stricken plantain tree.\n As **** the ********* lays at length\n Slowly regaining sense and strength,\n On the dear head she ******** her eye\n \n \n And cried with very bitter cry:\n 'Ah, when thy cold dead cheek I view,\n My hero, I am murdered too.\n Then first a faithful woman's eyes\n See sorrow, when her husband dies.\n When thou, my lord, wast nigh to save,\n Some stealthy hand thy death wound gave.\n Thou art not dead: rise, hero, rise;\n Long life was thine, as spake the wise\n Whose words, I ween, are ever true,\n For faith lies open to their view.\n Ah lord, and shall thy head recline\n On earth's cold breast, forsaking mine,\n Counting her chill lap dearer far\n Than I and my caresses are?\n Ah, is it thus these eyes behold\n Thy famous bow adorned with gold,\n Whereon of yore I loved to bind\n Sweet garlands that my bands had twined?\n And hast thou sought in heaven a place\n Amid the founders of thy race,\n Where in the home deserved so well\n Thy sires and Das'aratha dwell?\n Or dost thou shine a brighter star\n In skies where blest immortals are,\n Forsaking in thy lofty scorn\n The race wherein thy sires were born?\n Turn to my gaze. O turn thine eye:\n Why are thy cold lips silent, why?\n When first we met as youth and maid.\n When in thy hand my hand was laid,\n Thy promise was thy steps should be\n Through life in duty's path with me.\n Remember, faithful still, thy vow,\n And take me with thee even now.\n Is that broad bosom where I hung,\n That neck to which I fondly clung,\n Where flowery garlands breathed their scent\n By hungry dogs and vultures rent?\n Shall no funereal honours grace\n The parted lord of Raghu's race,\n Whose bounty liberal fees bestowed.\n For whom the fires of worship glowed?\n Kaus'aly\u00e1 wild with grief will see\n One sole survivor of the three\n Who in their hermit garments went\n To the dark woods in banishment.\n Then at her cry shall Lakshman tell\n How, slain by night, the V\u00e1nars fell;\n How to thy side the giants crept,\n And slew the hero as he slept.\n Thy fate and mine the queen will know,\n And broken-hearted die of woe.\n For my unworthy sake, for mine,\n R\u00e1ma, the glory of his line,\n Who bridged his way across the main,\n Is basely in a puddle slain;\n And I, the graceless wife he wed,\n Have brought this ruin on his head.\n Me, too, on him, O R\u00e1van, slay:\n \n \n The wife beside her husband lay.\n By his dear body let me rest,\n Cheek close to cheek and breast to breast,\n My happy eyes I then will close.\n And follow whither R\u00e1ma goes.'\n \u00a0\u00a0 Thus cried the miserable dame;\n When to the king a warder came,\n Before the giant monarch bowed\n And said that, followed by a crowd\n Of counsellors and lords of state,\n Prahasta stood before the gate,\n And, sent by some engrossing care,\n Craved audience of his master there.\n The anxious tyrant left his seat\n And hastened forth the chief to meet:\n Then summoning his nobles all,\n Took counsel in his regal hall.\n \u00a0\u00a0 When Lank\u00e1's lord had left the queen,\n The head and bow no more were seen.\n The giant king his nobles eyed,\n And, terrible as Yama, cried:\n 'O faithful lords, the time is come:\n Gather our hosts with beat of drum.\n Nigh to the town our foeman draws:\n Be prudent, nor reveal the cause.'\n \u00a0\u00a0 The nobles listened and obeyed:\n Swift were the gathered troops arrayed,\n And countless rovers of the night\n Stood burning for the hour of tight.","title":"BOOK VI: Canto XXXII.: Sit\u00e1's Lament.","type":"page"}