rteen years complete their course
That promise shall remain in force."
The saint in highest wisdom taught,
These solemn words with wisdom fraught,
To him in lore of language learned
Most eloquent himself returned:
"Obey my rede: let Bharat hold
This pair of sandals decked with gold:
They in Ayodhya shall ensure
Our welfare, and our bliss secure."
When Rama heard the royal priest
He rose, and looking to the east
Consigned the sandals to my hand
That they for him might guard the land.
Then from the high-souled chief's abode
I turned upon my homeward road,
Dismissed by him, and now this pair
Of sandals to Ayodhya bear."

To him the hermit thus replied,
By Bharat's tidings gratified:
"No marvel thoughts so just and true,
Thou best of all who right pursue,
Should dwell in thee, O Prince of men,
As waters gather in the glen.
He is not dead, we mourn in vain:
Thy blessed father lives again,
Whose noble son we thus behold
Like Virtue's self in human mould."

He ceased: before him Bharat fell
To clasp his feet, and said farewell:
His reverent steps around him bent,
And onward to Ayodhya went.
His host of followers stretching far
With many an elephant and car,
Waggon and steed, and mighty train,
Traversed their homeward way again.
O'er holy Yamuna they sped,
Fair stream, with waves engarlanded,
And then once more the rivers' queen,
The blessed Ganga's self was seen.
Then making o'er that flood his way,
Where crocodiles and monsters lay,
The king to Sringavera drew
His host and royal retinue.
His onward way he thence pursued,
And soon renowned Ayodhya viewed.
Then burnt by woe and sad of cheer
Bharat addressed the charioteer:
"Ah, see, Ayodhya dark and sad,
Her glory gone, once bright and glad:
Of joy and beauty reft, forlorn,
In silent grief she seems to mourn."

Canto CXIV. Bharat's Departure.

Deep, pleasant was the chariot's sound
As royal Bharat, far renowned,
Whirled by his mettled coursers fast
Within Ayodhya's city passed.
There dark and drear was every home
Where cats and owls had space to roam,
As when the shades of midnight fall
With blackest gloom, and cover all:
As Rohini, dear spouse of him
Whom Rahu hates,(396) grows faint and dim,
When, as she shines on high alone
The demon's shade is o'er her thrown:
As burnt by summer's heat a rill
Scarce trickling from her parent hill,
With dying fish in pools half dried,
And fainting birds upon her side:
As sacrificial flames aris