was shed;
Yet not the more their eyesight failed,
Their courage sank or valour quailed.
On through the gloom the Vanars pressed
With hunger, thirst, and toil distressed,
Poor helpless wanderers, sad, forlorn,
With wasted faces wan and worn.
At length, when life seemed lost for aye,
They saw a splendour as of day,
A wondrous forest, fair and bright,
Where golden trees shot flamy light.
And lotus-covered pools were there
With pleasant waters fresh and fair,
And streams their rippling currents rolled
By seats of silver and of gold.
Fair houses reared their stately height
Of burnished gold and lazulite,
And glorious was the lustre thrown
Through lattices of precious stone.
And there were flowers and fruit on stems
Of coral decked with rarest gems,
And emerald leaves on silver trees,
And honeycomb and golden bees.
Then as the Vanars nearer drew,
A holy woman met their view,
Around her form was duly tied
A garment of the blackdeer's hide.(751)
Pure votaress she shone with light
Of fervent zeal and holy rite.
Then Hanuman before the rest
With reverent words the dame addressed:
"Who art thou? say: and who is lord
Of this vast cave with treasures stored?"

Canto LI. Svayamprabha.

"Assailed by thirst and hunger, dame,
Within a gloomy vault we came.
We saw the cavern opening wide,
And straight within its depths we hied.
But utterly amazed are we
At all the marvels that we see.
Whose are the golden trees that gleam
With splendour like the morning's beam?
These cates of noblest sort? these roots?
This wondrous store of rarest fruits?
Whose are these calm and cool retreats,
These silver homes and golden seats,
And lattices of precious stones?
Who is the happy lord that owns
The golden trees, of rarest scent,
Neath loads of fruit and blossom bent?
Who, strong in holy zeal, had power
To deck the streams with richest dower,
And bade the lilies bright with gold
The glory of their blooms unfold,
Where fish in living gold below
The sheen of changing colours show?
Thine is the holy power, I ween,
That beautified the wondrous scene;
But if another's, lady, deign
To tell us, and the whole explain."

To him the lady of the cave
In words like these her answer gave:
"Skilled Maya framed in days of old
This magic wood of growing gold.
The chief artificer in place
Was he of all the Danav race.
He, for his wise enchantments famed,
This glorious dwelling planned and framed
He for a thousand years endured