nt.
In horns from forehead of the bull,
In pitchers bright and beautiful,
In urns of gold the Vanara took
Pure water brought from stream and brook,
From every consecrated strand
And every sea that beats the land.
Then, as prescribed by sacred lore
And many a mighty sage of yore,(615)
The leaders of the Vanars poured
The sacred water on their lord.(616)
From every Vanar at the close
Of that imperial rite arose
Shouts of glad triumph, loud and long
Repeated by the high-souled throng.
Sugriva, when the rite was done,
Obeyed the hest of Raghu's son,
Prince Angad to his breast he strained,
And partner of his sway ordained.
Once more from all the host rang out
The loud huzza and jovful shout.
"Well done! well done!" each Vanar cried,
And good Sugriva glorified.
Then with glad voices loudly raised
Were Rama and his brother praised;
And bright Kishkindha shone that day
With happy throngs and banners gay.
Canto XXVII. Rama On The Hill.
But when the solemn rite was o'er,
And bold Sugriva reigned once more,
The sons of Raghu sought the hill,
Prasravan of the rushing rill,
Where roamed the tiger and the deer,
And lions raised their voice of fear;
Thick set with trees of every kind,
With trailing shrubs and plants entwined;
Home of the ape and monkey, lair
Of mountain cat and pard and bear.
In cloudy gloom against the sky
The sanctifying hills rose high.
Pierced in their crest, a spacious cave
To Raghu's sons a shelter gave.
Then Rama, pure from every crime,
In words well suited to the time
To Lakshman spake, whose faithful zeal
Watched humbly for his brother's weal:
"I love this spacious cavern where
There breathes a fresh and pleasant air.
Brave brother, let us here remain
Throughout the season of the rain.
For in mine eyes this mountain crest
Is above all, the loveliest.
Where copper-hued and black and white
Show the huge blocks that face the height;
Where gleams the shine of varied ore,
Where dark clouds hang and torrents roar;
Where waving woods are fair to see,
And creepers climb from tree to tree;
Where the gay peacock's voice is shrill,
And sweet birds carol on the hill;
Where odorous breath is wafted far
From Jessamine and Sinduvar;(617)
And opening flowers of every hue
Give wondrous beauty to the view.
See, too, this pleasant water near
Our cavern home is fresh and clear;
And lilies gay with flower and bud
Are glorious on the lovely flood.
This cave that fares north and east
Will
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