fferings to his parting shade.
E'en when my banishment is o'er,
Back to my home I go no more,
To look upon the widowed state
Reft of her king, disconsolate.
E'en then, O tamer of the foe,
If to Ayodhya's town I go,
Who will direct me as of old,
Now other worlds our father hold?
From whom, my brother, shall I hear
Those words which ever charmed mine ear
And filled my bosom with delight
Whene'er he saw me act aright?"

Thus Rama spoke: then nearer came
And looking on his moonbright dame,
"Sita, the king is gone," he said:
"And Lakshman, know thy sire is dead,
And with the Gods on high enrolled:
This mournful news has Bharat told."
He spoke: the noble youths with sighs
Rained down the torrents from their eyes.
And then the brothers of the chief
With words of comfort soothed his grief:
"Now to the king our sire who swayed
The earth be due libations paid."
Soon as the monarch's fate she knew,
Sharp pangs of grief smote Sita through:
Nor could she look upon her lord
With eyes from which the torrents poured.
And Rama strove with tender care
To soothe the weeping dame's despair,
And then, with piercing woe distressed,
The mournful Lakshman thus addressed:
"Brother, I pray thee bring for me
The pressed fruit of the Ingudi,
And a bark mantle fresh and new,
That I may pay this offering due.
First of the three shall Sita go,
Next thou, and I the last: for so
Moves the funereal pomp of woe."(379)

Sumantra of the noble mind,
Gentle and modest, meek and kind,
Who, follower of each princely youth,
To Rama clung with constant truth,
Now with the royal brothers' aid
The grief of Rama soothed and stayed,
And lent his arm his lord to guide
Down to the river's holy side.
That lovely stream the heroes found,
With woods that ever blossomed crowned,
And there in bitter sorrow bent
Their footsteps down the fair descent.
Then where the stream that swiftly flowed
A pure pellucid shallow showed,
The funeral drops they duly shed,
And "Father, this be thine," they said.
But he, the lord who ruled the land,
Filled from the stream his hollowed hand,
And turning to the southern side
Stretched out his arm and weeping cried:
"This sacred water clear and pure,
An offering which shall aye endure
To thee, O lord of kings, I give:
Accept it where the spirits live!"

Then, when the solemn rite was o'er,
Came Rama to the river shore,
And offered, with his brothers' aid,
Fresh tribute to his father's shade.
With jujube f