elf or us,
For we will deal with thine and thee
As duty and the laws decree.
He who exacts and he who pays,
Is justly slain or justly slays,
Shall in the life to come have bliss;
For each has done his task in this.
Thou, wandering from the right, art made
Pure by the forfeit thou hast paid.
Thy weight of sins is cast aside,
And duty's claim is satisfied.
Then grieve no more, O Prince, but clear
Thy bosom from all doubt and fear,
For fate, inexorably stern,
Thou hast no power to move or turn.
Thy princely Angad still will share
My tender love, Sugriva's care;
And to thy offspring shall be shown
Affection that shall match thine own."
Canto XIX. Tara's Grief.
No answer gave the Vanar king
To Rama's prudent counselling.
Battered and bruised by tree and stone,
By Rama's arrow overthrown,
Fainting upon the ground he lay,
Gasping his troubled life away.
But Tara in the Vanar's hall
Heard tidings of her husband's fall;
Heard that a shaft from Rama's bow
Had laid the royal Bali low.
Her darling Angad by her side,
Distracted from her home she hied.
Then nigh the place of battle drew
The Vanars, Angad's retinue.
They saw the bow-armed Rama: dread
Fell on them, and they turned and fled.
Like helpless deer, their leaders slain,
So wildly fled the startled train.
But Tara saw, and nearer pressed,
And thus the flying band addressed:
"O Vanars, ye who ever stand
About our king, a trusty band,
Where is the lion master? why
Forsake ye thus your lord and fly?
Say, lies he dead upon the plain,
A brother by a brother slain,
Or pierced by shafts from Rama's bow
That rain from far upon the foe?"
Thus Tara questioned, and was still:
Then, wearers of each shape at will,
The Vanars thus with one accord
Answered the Lady of their lord:
"Turn, Tara turn, and half undone
Save Angad thy beloved son.
There Rama stands in death's disguise,
And conquered Bali faints and dies.
He by whose strong arm, thick and fast,
Uprooted trees and rocks were cast,
Lies smitten by a shaft that came
Resistless as the lightning flame.
When he, whose splendour once could vie
With Indra's, regent of the sky,
Fell by that deadly arrow, all
The Vanars fled who marked his fall.
Let all our chiefs their succours bring,
And Angad be anointed king;
For all who come of Vanar race
Will serve him set in Bali's place.
Or else our conquering foes to-day
Within our wall will force their way,
Polluting with their hostile feet
The
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