nd
The forehead of the monarch fanned,
And shell and drum and song and shout
Pealed round him as the king passed out.
About the monarch went a throng
Of Vanar warriors brave and strong,
As onward to the mountain shade
Where Rama dwelt his way he made.
Soon as the lovely spot he viewed
Where Rama lived in solitude,
The Vanar monarch, far-renowed,
With Lakshman, lightly stepped to ground,
And to the son of Raghu went
Joining his raised hands reverent.
As their great leader raised his hands,
So suppliant stood the Vanar bands.
Well pleased the son of Raghu saw
Those legions, hushed in reverent awe,
Stand silent like the tranquil floods
That raise their hands of lotus buds.
But Rama, when the king, to greet
His friend, had bowed him at his feet,
Raised him who ruled the Vanar race,
And held him in a close embrace:
Then, when his arms he had unknit,
Besought him by his side to sit,
And thus with gentle words the best
Of men the Vanar king addressed:

"The prince who well his days divides,
And knows aright the times and tides
To follow duty, joy, or gain,
He, only he, deserves to reign.
But he who wealth and virtue leaves,
And every hour to pleasure cleaves,
Falls from his bliss like him who wakes
From slumber on a branch that breaks.
True king is he who smites his foes,
And favour to his servants shows,
And of that fruit makes timely use
Which virtue, wealth, and joy produce.
The hour is come that bids thee rise
To aid me in my enterprise.
Then call thy nobles to debate,
And with their help deliberate."

"Lost was my power," the king replied,
"All strength had fled, all hope had died.
The Vanars owned another lord,
But by thy grace was all restored.
All this, O conqueror of the foe,
To thee and Lakshman's aid I owe.
And his should be the villain's shame
Who durst deny the sacred claim.
These Vanar chiefs of noblest birth
Have at my bidding roamed the earth,
And brought from distant regions all
Our legions at their monarch's call:
Fierce bears with monkey troops combined,
And apes of every varied kind,
Terrific in their forms, who dwell
In grove and wood and bosky dell:
The bright Gandharvas' brood, the seed
Of Gods,(649) they change their shapes at need.
Each with his legions in array,
Hither, O Prince, they make their way.
They come: and tens of millions swell
To numbers that no tongue may tell.(650)
For thee their armies will unite
With chiefs, Mahendra's peers in might.
From Meru and f