ut as they flew struck thousands dead.

Canto CI. Lakshman's Fall.

When Ravan saw his darts repelled,
With double rage his bosom swelled.
He summoned, wroth but undismayed,
A mightier charm to lend its aid.
And, fierce as fire before the blast,
A storm of missiles thick and fast,
Spear, pike and javelin, mace and brand,
Came hurtling from the giant's hand.
But, mightier still, the arms employed
By Raghu's son their force destroyed,
And every dart fell dulled and spent
By powers the bards of heaven had lent.
With his huge mace Vibhishan slew
The steeds that Ravan's chariot drew.
Then Ravan hurled in deadly ire
A ponderous spear that flashed like fire:
But Rama's arrows checked its way,
And harmless on the earth it lay,
The giant seized a mightier spear,
Which Death himself would shun with fear.
Vibhishan with the stroke had died,
But Lakshman's hand his bowstring plied,
And flying arrows thick as hail
Smote fiercely on the giant's mail.
Then Ravan turned his aim aside,
On Lakshman looked and fiercely cried:
"Thou, thou again my wrath hast braved,
And from his death Vibhishan saved.
Now in his stead this spear receive
Whose deadly point thy heart shall cleave."

He ceased: he hurled the mortal dart
By Maya forged with magic art.
The spear, with all his fury flung,
Swift, flickering like a serpent's tongue,
Adorned with many a tinkling bell,
Smote Lakshman, and the hero fell.
When Rama saw, he heaved a sigh,
A tear one moment dimmed his eye.
But tender grief was soon repressed
And thoughts of vengeance filled his breast.
The air around him flashed and gleamed
As from his bow the arrows streamed;
And Lanka's lord, the foeman's dread,
O'erwhelmed with terror turned and fled.

Canto CII. Lakshman Healed.

But Rama, pride of Raghu's race,
Gazed tenderly on Lakshman's face,
And, as the sight his spirit broke,
Turned to Sushen and sadly spoke:
"Where is my power and valour? how
Shall I have heart for battle now,
When dead before my weeping eyes
My brother, noblest Lakshman, lies?
My tears in blinding torrents flow,
My hand unnerved has dropped my bow.
The pangs of woe have blanched my cheek,
My heart is sick, my strength is weak.
Ah me, my brother! Ah, that I
By Lakshman's side might sink and die:
Life, war and conquest, all are vain
If Lakshman lies in battle slain.
Why will those eyes my glances shun?
Hast thou no word of answer, none?
Ah, is thy noble spirit flown
And gone