rpse were perfumes thrown
And many a flowery wreath was strown;
And with Vibhishan's ready aid
Rich vesture o'er the king was laid.
Then while the tears their cheeks bedewed
Parched grain upon the dead they strewed;
Last, to the wood, as rules require,
Vibhishan set the kindling fire.

Then having bathed, as texts ordain,
To Lanka went the mourning train.
Vibhishan, when his task was done,
Stood by the side of Raghu's son.
And Rama, freed from every foe,
Unstrung at last his deadly bow,
And laid the glittering shafts aside,
And mail by Indra's love supplied.

Canto CXIV. Vibhishan Consecrated.

Joy reigned in heaven where every eye
Had seen the Lord of Lanka die.
In cars whose sheen surpassed the sun's
Triumphant rode the radiant ones:
And Ravan's death, by every tongue,
And Rama's glorious deeds were sung.
They praised the Vanars true and brave,
The counsel wise Sugriva gave.
The deeds of Hanuman they told,
The valiant chief supremely bold,
The strong ally, the faithful friend,
And Sita's truth which naught could bend.

To Matali, whom Indra sent,
His head the son of Raghu bent:
And he with fiery steeds who clove
The clouds again to Swarga drove.
Round King Sugriva brave and true
His arms in rapture Rama threw,
Looked on the host with joy and pride,
And thus to noble Lakshman cried:

"Now let king-making drops be shed,
Dear brother, on Vibhishan's head
For truth and friendship nobly shown,
And make him lord of Ravan's throne."
This longing of his heart he told:
And Lakshman took an urn of gold
And bade the wind-fleet Vanars bring
Sea water for the giants' king.
The brimming urn was swiftly brought:
Then on a throne superbly wrought
Vibhishan sat, the giants' lord,
And o'er his brows the drops were poured.
As Raghu's son the rite beheld
His loving heart with rapture swelled:
But tenderer thoughts within him woke,
And thus to Hanuman he spoke:

"Go to my queen: this message give:
Say Lakshman and Sugriva live.
The death of Lanka's monarch tell,
And bid her joy, for all is well."

Canto CXV. Sita's Joy.

The Vanar chieftain bowed his head,
Within the walls of Lanka sped,
Leave from the new-made king obtained,
And Sita's lovely garden gained.
Beneath a tree the queen he found,
Where Rakshas warders watched around.
Her pallid cheek, her tangled hair,
Her raiment showed her deep despair,
Near and more near the envoy came
And gently hailed the weeping dame.
She st