ontrol,
Rushed in full flood o'er Bharat's soul;
His reeling sense and strength gave way,
And fainting on the earth he lay,
At length upspringing from the ground,
His arms about Hanuman wound,
With tender tears of rapture sprung,
He dewed the neck to which he clung:
"Art thou a God or man," he cried,
"Whom love and pity hither guide?
For this a hundred thousand kine,
A hundred villages be thine.
A score of maids of spotless lives
To thee I give to be thy wives,
Of golden hue and bright of face,
Each lovely for her tender grace."

He ceased a while by joy subdued,
And then his eager speech renewed.

Canto CXXVIII. Hanuman's Story.

"In doubt and fear long years have passed
And glorious tidings come at last.
True, true is now the ancient verse
Which men in time of bliss rehearse:
"Once only in a hundred years
Great joy to mortal men appears."
But now his woes and triumph tell,
And loss and gain as each befell."
He ceased: Hanuman mighty-souled
The tale of Rama's wanderings told
From that first day on which he stood
In the drear shade of Dandak wood.
He told how fierce Viradha fell;
He told of Sarabhanga's cell
Where Rama saw with wondering eyes
Indra descended from the skies.
He told how Surpanakhi came,
Her soul aglow with amorous flame,
And fled repulsed, with rage and tears,
Reft of her nose and severed ears.
He told how Rama's might subdued
The giants' furious multitude;
How Khara with the troops he led
And Trisiras and Dushan bled:
How Rama, tempted from his cot,
The golden deer pursued and shot,
And Ravan came and stole away
The Maithil queen his hapless prey,
When, as he fought, the dame to save,
His noble life Jatayus gave:
How Rama still the the search renewed,
The robber to his hold pursued,
Bridging the sea from shore to shore,
And found his queen to part no more.(1025)

Canto CXXIX. The Meeting With Bharat.

O'erwhelmed with rapture Bharat heard
The tale that all his being stirred,
And, heralding the glad event,
This order to Satrughna sent:
"Let every shrine with flowers be gay
Let incense burn and music play.
Go forth, go forth to meet your king,
Let tabours sound and minstrels sing,
Let bards swell high the note of praise
Skilled in the lore of ancient days,
Call forth the royal matrons: call
Each noble from the council hall.
Send all we love and honour most,
Send Brahmans and the warrior host,
A glorious company to bring
In triumph home our lord the ki