Soon as the warriors took their rest
Obeying Bharat's high behest,
Thus Bharat to Satrughna spake:
'A band of soldiers with thee take,
And with these hunters o'er and o'er
The thickets of the wood explore.
With bow, sword, arrows in their hands
Let Guba with his kindred bands
Within this grove remaining trace
The children of Kakutstha's race.
And I meanwhile on foot will through
This neighbouring wood my way pursue,
With elders and the twice-born men,
And every lord and citizen.
There is, I feel, no rest for me
Till Rama's face again I see,
Lakshman, in arms and glory great,
And Sita born to happy fate:
No rest, until his cheek as bright
As the fair moon rejoice my sight,
No rest until I see the eye
With which the lotus petals vie;
Till on my head those dear feet rest
With signs of royal rank impressed;
None, till my kingly brother gain
His old hereditary reign,
Till o'er his limbs and noble head
The consecrating drops be shed.
How blest is Janak's daughter, true
To every wifely duty, who
Cleaves faithful to her husband's side
Whose realm is girt by Ocean's tide!
This mountain too above the rest
E'en as the King of Hills is blest,--
Whose shades Kakutstha's scion hold
As Nandan charms the Lord of Gold.
Yea, happy is this tangled grove
Where savage beasts unnumbered rove,
Where, glory of the Warrior race,
King Rama finds a dwelling-place.'
Thus Bharat, strong-armed hero spake,
And walked within the pathless brake.
O'er plains where gay trees bloomed he went,
Through boughs in tangled net-work bent,
And then from Rama's cot appeared
The banner which the flame upreared.
And Bharat joyed with every friend
To mark those smokv wreaths ascend:
'Here Rama dwells,' he thought; 'at last
The ocean of our toil is passed.'
Then sure that Rama's hermit cot
Was on the mountain's side
He stayed his army on the spot,
And on with Guha hied.