But when he heard the queen relate His brothers' doom, his father's fate, Thus Bharat to his mother said With burning grief disquieted; THE RAMA TAN.
Boole II.
4 Alas, what boots it now to reign, Struck down by grief and well-nigh slain?
Ah, both are gone, my sire, and he Who was a second sire to me.
Grief upon grief thy hand has made, And salt upon my gashes laid: For my dear sire has died through thee, And Kama roams a devotee.
Thou earnest like the night of Fate This royal house to devastate.
Unwitting ill, my hapless sire Placed in his bosom coals of fire, And through thy crimes his death he met, 0 thou whose heart on sin is set. Shame of thy house! thy senseless deed Has reft all joy from Raghu's seed. The truthful monarch, dear to fame, Eeceived thee as his wedded dame, And by thy act to misery doomed Has died by flames of grief consumed. Kausaly& and Sumitra too The coming of my mother rue, And if they live oppressed bv woe, For their dear sons their sad tears flow. Was he not ever good and kind, — That hero of the duteous mind? Skilled in all filial duties, he As a dear mother treated thee. Kausalya too, the eldest queen. Who far foresees with insight keen, Did she not ever show thee all A sister's love at duty's call? And hast thou from the kingdom chased Her son, with bark around his waist, To the wild wood, to dwell therein, And dost not sorrow for thy sin? The love I bare to Raghu's son Thou knewest not. ambitious one, If thou hast wrought this impious deed For royal sway, in lawless greed. With him and Lakshman far away, What power have I the realm to sway? What hope will fire my bosom, when 1 see no more those lords of men? The holy king who loved the right Relied on Rama's power and might, His guardian and his glory: so Joys Meru in his woods below. How can I bear, a steer untrained, The load his mightier strength sustained? What power have I to brook alone This weight on feeble shoulders thrown? But if the needful power were bought By strength of mind and brooding thought, No triumph shall attend the dame Who dooms her son to lasting shame. Now should no doubt that son prevent From quitting thee on evil bent, But Rama's love o'erpowers my will, Who holds thee as his mother still. Whence did the thought, Qthou whose eyes Are turned to sinful deeds, arise — A plan our ancient sires would hate, O fallen from thy virtuous state?
For in the line from which we spring The eldest is anointed king: No monarchs from the rule decline, And, least of all, Ikshvaku's line.
Our holy sires, to virtue true, Upon our race a lustre threw, But with subversive frenzy thou Hast marred our lineal honour now.
Of lofty birth, a noble line Of previous kings is also thine: Then whence this hated folly '] whence This sudden change that steals thy sense?
Thou shalt not gain thine impious will, O thou whose thoughts are bent on ill, Thou from whose guilty hand descend These sinful blows my life to end.
Now to the forest will I go, Thy cherished plans to overthrow, And bring my brother, free from stain, His people's darling, home again, And Kiima, when again he turns, Whose glory like a beacon burns, In me a faithful slave shall find To serve him with contented mind.* CANTO LXXIV.
BHARAT'S LAMENT.
When Bharat's anger-sharpened tongue Reproaches on the queen had Hung, Again, with mighty rage possessed, The guilty dame he thus addressed: 'Flee, cruel, wicked sinner, flee, Let not this kingdom herbour thee. Thou who hast thrown all right aside, Weep thou for me when I have died. Canst thou one charge against the king, Or the most duteous Rama, bring? The one thy sin to death has sent, The other chased to banishment. Our line's destroyer, sin -de filed Like one who kills an unborn child, Ne'er with thy lord in heaven to dwell, Thy portion shall be down in hell. Because thy hand, that stayed for naught, This awful wickedness has wrought, And ruined him whom all held dear, My bosom too is stirred with fear, My father by thy sin is dead, And Rama to the wood is fled; And of thy deed I bear the stain, And fameless in the world remain. Ambitious, evil-souled. in show My mother, yet my direst foe. My throning ne'er thine eyes shall bless, Thy husband's wicked murderess.
Canto LXXV.
THE RAMAYAN.
Thou art not Asvapati's child, That righteous king, most sage and mild, But thou wast born a fiend, a foe My father's house to overthrow, Thou who ha>t made Kausalya, pure, Gentle, affectionate, endure The loss of him who was her bliss,— What worlds await thee, Queen, for this? Was it not patent to thy sense That Rama was his friends' defence, Kausalya's own true child most dear, The eldest and his father's peer? Men in the son not only trace The father's figure., form, and face, But in his heart they also find The offspring of the father's mind; And hence, though dear the! r kinsmen are, To mothers sons are dearer far. There goes an ancient legend how Good Surabhi., the God- loved cow, Saw two of her dear children strain, Drawing a plough and faint with pain. 8hesaw them on the earth outworn, Toiling till noon irom early morn, And as she viewed her children's woe, A fl iod of tears began to flow. As through the air beneath her swept The Lord of Gods, the drops she wept, Fine, laden with delicious smell, Upon his heavenly body fell. And Indra lifted up his eyes And saw her standing in the skies, Afflicted with her sorrow's weight, Sad, weening, all disconsolate. The Lord of Gods in anxious mood Thus spoke in suppliant attitude: * No fear disturbs our rest, and how Come this great dread upon thee now? Whence can this woe upon thee fall, Say, gentle one who lovest all?'
Thus spake the God who rules the skies, Indra, the Lord supremely wise: And gentle Surabhi, well learned Jn eloquence, this speech returned: ' Not thine the fault, great God, not thine And guiltless are the Lords divine: I mourn two children faint with toil. Labouring hard in stubborn soil. Wasted and sad I see them now, While the sun beats on neck and brow, Still goaded by the cruel hind, — No pity in his savage mind. O Indra, from this body sprang These children, worn with many a pang. For this sad sight I mourn, for none Is to the mother like her son.'
He saw her weep whose offspring feed In thousands over hill and mead, And knew that in a mother's eye Naught with a son, for love, can vie. He deemed her, when the tears that came 13 From her sad eyes bedewed his frame,.
Laden with their celestial scent, Of living things most excellent.
If she these tears of sorrow shed Who many a thousand children bred, Think what a life of woe is left Kausalya, of her Kama reft.
An only son was hers, and she Is rendered childless now by thee.
Here and hereafter, for thy crime, Woe is thy lot through endless time.
And now, O Queen, without delay, With all due honour will I pay 3 jth to my brother and my sire The rites their several fates require.
Back to Ayodhya will I bring The long-armed chief, her lord and king, And to the wood myself betake Where hermit saints their dwelling make.
For, sinner both in deed and thought!
This hideous crime which thou hast wrought I cannot bear, or live to see The people's sad eyes bent on me.
Begone, to Danclak wood retire, Or cast thy body to the tire, Or bind around thy neck the rope: No other refuge mayst thou hope.
When Kama, lord of valour true, Has gained the earth, his right and due, Then, free from duty's binding debt, My vanished sin shall I forget,' Thus like an elephant forced to brook The goading of the driver's hook, Quick panting like a serpent maimed, He fell to earth with rage inflamed.
CANTO LXXV.
THE ABJUKATION.
A while he lay: he rose at length, And slowly gathering sense and strength, With angry eyes which tears bedewed, The miserable queen he viewed, And spake with keen reproach to her Before each lord and minister: ' No lust have I for kingly sway, My mother I no more obey: Naught of this consecration knew Which Dasaratha kept in view, I with Satrughna all the time Was dwelling in a distant clime: I knew of Kama's exile naught, That hero of the noble thought: I knew not how fair Sita went, And Lakshman, forth to banishment.'
Thus high-souled Bharat, mid the crowds Lifted his voice and cried aloud.
THE RAM AY AN.
Boole II.
Kausalya heard, she raised her head, And quickly to Sumitra said: * Bharat, Kaikeyi's son is here,— Hers whose fell deeds I loathe and fear: That youth of foresight keen I fain Would meet and see his face again.' Thus to Sumitra spake the dame, And straight to Bharat's presence came With altered mien, neglected dress. Trembling and faint with sore distress. Bharat, &atrughna hy his side, To meet her, toward her palace hied. And when the royal dame they viewed Distressed with (lire solicitude, Sad. fallen senseless on the ground, Ahout her neck their arms they wound. The noble matron prostrate there, Embraced, with tears, the weeping pair, And with her load of grief oppressed, To Bharat then these words addressed: * N7ow all is thine, without a foe, This realm for which thou longest so. Ah, soon Kaikeyi's ruthless hand Has won the empire of the land, And made my guiltless Rama flee Dressed like some lonely devotee. Herein what profit has the queen, Whose eye delights in havoc, seen? Me also, me 'twere surely good To banish to the distantVood, To dwell amid the shades that hold ^ly famous son with limbs like gold. Nay, with the sacred fire to guide, Will I, Sumitra by my side, Myself to the drear wood repair Arid seek the son of Kaghu there. This land which rice and golden corn And wealth of every kind adorn, Car, elephant, and steed, and gem,— She makes thee lord of it and them.'
With taunts like these her bitter tongue The heart of blameless Bharat wrung And direr pangs his bosom tore Than when the lancet probes a sore. With troubled senses all astray Prone at her feet he fell and lay. With loud lament a while he plained, And slowly strength and sense regained. With suppliant hand to hand applied He turned to her who wept and sighed, And thus bespake the queen, whose hreas With sundry woes was sore distressed: 'Why these reproaches, noble dame? J, knowing naught, am free from blame. Thou knowe>t well what love was mine For Rama, chief of Raghu's line. O, never be his darkened mind To Scripture's guiding lore inclined, By whose consent the prince who led The good, the truthful hero, fled, Huy he obey the vilest lord, )ffend the sun with act abhorred.1 Ind strike a sleeping cow, who lent I is voice to Rama's banishment, lay the good king who all befriends, Ind, like his sons, the people tends, "»e wronged by him who gave consent o noble Rama's banishment. )n him that king's injustice fall, Who takes, as lord, a sixth of all, ^or guards, neglectful of his trust, lis people, as a ruler must, 'he crime of those who swear to fee, U holy rites, some devotee, \nd then the promised gift deny, 5e his who willed the prince should fly, hen weapons clash and heroes bleed, With elephant and harnessed steed, ^e'er, like the good, he his to fight Vhose heart allowed the prince's flight. though taught with care by one expert A1 ay he the Veda's text pervert, With impious mind on evil bent, iVhose voice approved the banishment, day he with traitor lips reveal Whate'er he promised to conceal, And bruit abroad his friend's offence, Betrayed by generous confidence.
o wife of equal lineage born The wretch's joyless home adorn: S'e'er may he do one virtuous deed, And dying see no child succeed. When in the battle's awful day Fierce warriors stand in dread array, Let the base coward turn and fly, And smitten by the foeman, die. Long may he wander, rags his wear, Doomed in his hand a skull to bear, And like an idiot beg his bread, Who gave consent when llama fled. His sin who holy rites forgets, Asleep when shows the sun and sets, A load upon his soul shall lie Whose will allowed the prince to fly. His sin who loves his Master's dame, His, kindler of destructive flame, His who betrays his trusting friend Shall, mingled all, on him descend. By him no reverence due be paid To blessed God or parted shade: May sire and mother's sacred name In vain from him obedience claim. Ne'er may he go where dwell the good, Nor win their fame and neighbourhood, But lose all hopes of bliss to-day, Who willed the prince should rlee away, May he deceive the poor and weak Who look to him and comfort seek, 1 Svryamclia pratimehatit, ad versus so] em mingat. An offence expressly forbid den by the Laws of Mauu.
Canto LXXVL THE RAM A? AN.
Betray the suppliants who complain, And make the hopeful hope in vain. Long may his wife his kiss expect, And pine away in cold neglect. May he his lawful love despise, And turn on other dames his eyes, Fool, on forbidden joys intent, Whose will allowed the banishment. His sin who deadly poison throws To spoil the water as it flows, Lay on the wretch its burden dread Who gave consent when Kama fled.'1 Thus with his words he undeceived Kausalya's troubled heart, who grieved For son and husband reft away; Then prostrate on the ground he lay. Him as he lay half -senseless there, Freed by the mighty oaths he sware, Kaiisalya, by her woe distressed, With melancholy words addressed: ' Anew, my son, this sorrow springs To rend m'y heart with keener stings: These awful oaths which thou hast sworn My breast with double grief have torn. Thy soul, and faithful Lakshman's too, Are still, thank Heaven! to virtue true. True to thy promise, thou shalt gain The mansions which the good obtain.'
Then to her breast that youth she drew, Whose sweet fraternal love she knew, And there in strict embraces held The hero, as her tears outwelled. And hharat's heart grew sick and faint With grief and oft-renewed complaint, And all his senses were distraught By the great woe that in him wrought.
'Thus as he lay and still bewailed With sighs and loud lament Till all his strength and reason failed, The hours of night were spent.
CANTO LXXVL THE FUNERAL.
The saint Vasishtha, best of all Whose words with moving wisdom fall, Bharat, Kaikeyi's son, addressed, Whom burning fires of grief distressed: ' O Prince, whose fame is widely spread, Enough of grief: be comforted. The time is come: arise, and lay Upon the pyre the monarch's clay.'
1 Bharat does not intend these curses for any particular person: he merely \vishes to prove his own innocence by in- voking them on his own head if he had acy share in banishing Riiuia.
He heard the words Vasishtha spoke, And slumbering resolution woke. Then skilled in all the laws declare, He bade his friends the rites prepare. They raised the body from the oil, And placed it, dripping, on the soil; Then laid it on a bed, whereon Wrought gold and precious jewels shone, There, pallor o'er his features spread, The monarch, as in sleep, lay dead. Then Bharat sought his father's side, And lifted up his voice and cried: ' O King, and has thy heart designed To part and leave thy son behind? Make Rama flee, who loves the right, And Lakshrnan of the arm of might? Whither, great Monarch, wilt thou go And leave this people in their woe. Mourning their hero, wild with grief, Of Rama reft, their lion chief? Ah, who will guard the people well Who in Ayodhya's city dwell, When thou, my sire, hast sought the sky, And Rama has been forced to fly? In widowed woe, bereft of thee, The land no more is fair to see: The city, to my aching sight, Is gloomy as a moonless night.'
Thus, with o'erwheiming sorrow pained, Sad Bharat by the bed complained: And thus Vasishtha, holy sage, Spoke his deep anguish to assuage: ' O Lord of men. no longer stay; The last remaining duties pay: Haste, mighty -armed, as I advise, The funeral rites to solemnize.'
And Bharat heard Vasishtha's rede With due attention and agreed. He summoned straight from every side Chaplain, and priest, and holy guide. The sacred fires he bade them bring Forth from the chapel of the king, Wherein the priests in order due, And ministers, the offerings threw. Distraught in mind, with sob and tear, They laid the body on a bier, And servants, while their eyes brimmed o'er The monarch from the palace bore.
Another band of mourners led The long procession of the dead: Rich garments in the way they cast.
And gold and silver, as they passed.
Then other hands the corse bedewed With fragrant juices that exude From sandal, cedar, aloe, pine.
And every perfume rare and fine.
Then priestly hands the mighty dead Upon the pyre deposited, The sa«red fires they tended next, And muttered low each funeral text; And pritstly singers who rehearse THE RAM AY AN.
Boole II.
The Saman1 sang their holy verse. Forth from the town in litters came, Or chariots, many a royal dame, And honoured so the funeral ground, With aged followers ringed around. With steps in inverse order bent,''5 The priests in sad procession went Around the monarch's burning pyre Who well had nursed each sacred fire: With Queen Kausalya and the rest, Their tender hearts with woe distressed. The voice of women, shrill and clear As screaming curlews, smote the ear, As from a thousand voices rose The shriek that tells of woman's woes. Then weeping, faint, with loud lament, Down Sarjirs shelving bank they went. There standing on the river side With Bharat, priest, and peer, Their lips the women purified With water fresh and clear, Beturning to the royal town, Their eyes with tear-drops filled, Ten days on earth they laid them down, And wept till grief was stilled.
CANTO LXXVII.
THE GATHERING OF THE ASHES.
The tenth day passed: the prince again Was free from every legal stain.
He bade them on the twelfth the great Remaining honour celebrate.
Much gold he gave, and gems, and food, To all the Brahman multitude, And goats whose hair was white and fine, And many a thousand head of kine: Slaves, men and damsels, he bestowed, And many a car and fair abode: Such gifts he gave the Brahman race His father's obsequies to grace.
Then when the morning's earliest ray Appeared upon the thirteenth day, Again the hero wept and sighed Distraught and sorrow-stupeiied; Drew, sobbing in his anguish, near, The last remaining debt to clear, And at the bottom of the pyre, He thus bespake his royal sire: * O father, hast thou left me so, Deserted in my friendless woe, When he to whom the charge was given To keep me, to the wood is driven?
Her only son is forced away Who was his helpless mother's stay: 1 The Sama-veda, the hymns of which are chanted aloud.
2 Walking from right to left, Ah, whither, father, art thou fled, Leaving the queen uncomforted?'
He looked upon the pile where lay The bones half -burnt and ashes grey, And uttering a piteous moan, Gave way, by anguish overthrown. Then as his tears began to well, Prostrate to earth the hero fell; So from its seat the staff they drag1, And cast to earth some glorious flag. The ministers approached again Theprince whom rites had freed from stain: So when Yayati fell, each seer, In pity for his fate, drew near, ^atrughna saw him lying low O'erwhelmed beneath the rush of woe, And as upon the king he thought, He fell upon the earth distraught. When to his loving memory came Those noble gifts, that kingly frame, He sorrowed, by his woe distressed, As one by frenzied rage possessed: ' Ah me, this surging sea of woe Has drowned us with its overflow: The source is Manthara, dire and dark, Kaikeyi is the ravening shark: And the great boons the monarch gave Lend conquering might to every wave. Ah, whither wilt thou go, and leave Thy Bharat in his woe to grieve, Whom ever 'twas thy greatest joy To fondle as a tender boy? Didst thou not give with thoughtful care Our food, our drink, our robes to wear? Whose love will now for us provide, When thou, our kin«r and sire, hast died? At such a time bereft, forlorn, Why is not earth in sunder torn, Missing her monarch's firm control, His love of right, his lofty soul? Ah me, for Rama roams afar, My sire is where the Blessed are: How can I Jive deserted? I Will pass into the fire and die. Abandoned thus, I will not brook Upon Ayodhya's town to look, Once guarded by Ikshvaku's race; The wood shall be my dwelling-place.'
Then when the princes' mournful train Heard the sad brothers thus complain, And saw their misery, at the view Their grief burst wilder oat anew. Faint with lamenting, sud and worn, Each like a bull with broken horn, The brothers in their wild despair Lay rolling, mad with misery, there, Then old Vasishtha good and true, Their father's priest, all lore who knew, Raised weeping Bharat on his feet, And thus bespake with counsel meet: ' Twelve days, my lord, have past away Canto LXXVIII.
THE RAM AY AN.
Since flames consumed thy father's clay: Delay no more': as rules ordain, Gather what bones may yet remain. tThree constant pairs are ever found To hem all mortal creatures round:l Then mourn not thus, O Prince, for none Their close companionship may shun.'
Sumantra bade Satrughna rise, And soothed his soul with counsel wise, And skilled in truth, Ins hearer taught How all things are and come to naught. When rose each hero from the ground, A lion lord of men, renowned, He showed like Indra's flag,2 whereon Fierce rains have dashed and suns have shone.
They wiped their red and weeping eyes, And gently made their sad replies; Then, urged to haste, the royal pair Performed the rites that claimed their care CANTO LXXVllf.
MANTHARA PUNISHED.
Satrughna thus to Bharat spake Who longed the forest road to take: ' He who in woe was wont to give Strength to himself and all that live — - Dear Kama, true and pure in heart, Is banished by a woman's art. Yet here was Lakshman, brave and strong, Could not his might prevent the wrong? Could not his arm the king restrain, Or make the banished free again? One loving right arid fearing crime Had checked the monarch's sin in time, When, vassal of a woman's will, His feet approached the path of ill.' While Lakshman's younger brother, dread Satrughna, thus to Bharat said, Came to the fronting door, arrayed In glittering robes, the hump-back maid. There she, with sandal-oil besmeared, In garments meet for queens appeared: And lustre to her form was lent By many a gem and ornament. She girdled with her broiderect zone, And many a chain about her thrown, Showed like a female monkey round Whose body many a string is bound. When on thatjcause of evil fell The quick;|eye of the sentinel, 1 Birth and death, pleasure and pain, loss and gain.
. z Pkected^upom a tree or high staff in honour of Indra.
He grasped her in his ruthless hold, And hastening in, Satrughna told: * Hei'e' is the wicked pest,' he cried, * Through whom the king thy father died, And Kama wanders in the wood: Do with her as thou deemest good.' The warder spoke: and every word ^atrughna's breast to fury stirred: He called the servants, all and each, And spake in wrath his hasty speech: ' This is the wretch my sire who slew. And misery on my brothers drew: Let her this day obtain the meed, Vile sinner, of her cruel deed.' He spake; and moved by fury laid His mighty hand upon the maid, Who as her fellows ringed her round, Made with her Cries the hall resound. Soon as the gathered women viewed ^atrughaa in his angry mood, Their hearts disturbed by sudden dread, They turned and from his presence fled. ' His rage,' they cried, ' on us will fall, And ruthless, he will slay us all. Come, to Kausalya let us flee: Our hope, our sure defence is she, Approved by all, of virtuous mind, Compassionate, and good, and kind.' His eyes with burning wrath aglow, Satrughna, shatterer of the foe, Dragged on the ground the hump-back maid Who shrieked aloud and screamed for aid.
This way and that with no remorse tie dragged her with resistless force, And chains and glittering trinkets burst Lay here and there with gems dispersed, Till like the sky of Autumn shone The palace floor they sparkled on.
The lord of men, supremely strong1, laled in his rage the wretch along: Where Queen Kaikeyi dwelt he came, And sternly then addressed the dame. Deep in her heart Kaikeyi felt Fhe stabs his keen reproaches dealt, And of ^atrughria's ire afraid, To Bharat flew and cried for aid. le looked and saw the prince inflamed With burning rage, and thus exclaimed: Forgive! thine angry arm restrain: A woman never may be slain.
My hand Kaikeyi's blood would spill, Phe sinner ever bent on ill, But Rama, long in duty tried, Would hate the impious matricide: And if he knew thy vengeful blade lad slaughtered e'en this hump-backmaid.
Never again, be sure, would he Speak friendly word to thee or me.' When Bharat's speech Satrughna heard Ie calmed the rage his breast that stirred, THE RAM AY AN.
Bool: II.
Releasing from her dire constraint The trembling wretch with terror faint. Then to Kaikeyi's feet she crept, And prostrate in her misery wept. Kaikeyi on the hump-back gazed, And saw her weep and gasp, Still quivering, with her senses dazed, From fierce Satru^hna's grasp. With gentle words of pity she Assuaged her wild despair, E'en as a tender hand might free A curlew from the snare.
CANTO LXXIX.
BHARAT'S COMMANDS.
Now when the sun's returning ray Had ushered in the fourteenth day, The gathered peers of state addressed To Bharat's ear their new request: ' Our lord to heaven has parted hence, Long served with deepest reverence; Rama, the eldest, far from home, And Lakshman, in the forest roam. O Prince, of mighty fame, be thou Our guardian and our monarch now, Lest secret plot or foeman's hate Assail our unprotected state. With longing eyes, 0 Lord of men, To thee look friend and citizen, And ready is each sacred thing To consecrate our chosen king. Come, Bharat, and accept thine own Ancient hereditary throne. Thee let the priests this day install As monarch to preserve us all.'
Around the sacred gear he bent His circling footsteps reverent, And, firm to vows he would not break, Thus to the gathered people spake: ' The eldest son is ever king: 80 rules the house from which we spring Nor should ye. Lords, like men unwise, With words like these to wrong advise. Kama is eldest born, and he The ruler of the land shall be. Now to the woods will I repair, Five years and nine to lodge me there. Assemble straight a mighty force, Cars, elephants, and foot and horse, For I will follow on his track And bring my eldest brother back. Whate'er the rites of throning need Placed on a car the way shall lead: The sacred vessels I will take To the wild wood for Rama's sake. I o'er the lion prince's head The sanctifying balm will shed, And bring him, as the tire they bring Forth from the shrine, with triumphing. Nor will I let my mother's greed In this her cherished aim succeed: In pathless wilds will I remain, And Rama here as king shall reign. To make the rough ways srnooth and clear Send workman out and pioneer: Let skilful men attend beside Our way through pathless spots to guide.' As thus the royal Bharat spake, Ordaining all for Kama's sake, The audience gave with one accord Auspicious answer to their lord: 4 lie royal Fortune aye benign To thee for this good speech of thine, Who wishest still thine elder's hand To rule with kingly sway the land.' Their glorious speech, their favouring cries M ade his proud bosom swell: And from the prince's noble eyes The tears of rapture fell.1 CANTO LXXX.
THE WAY PREPARED.
All they who knew the joiner's art, Or distant ground in every part; Fach busied in his several trade, To work machines or ply the spade; Deft workmen skilled to frame the wheel, Or with the ponderous engine deal; Guides of the way, and craftsmen skilled, To sink the well, make bricks, and build; And those whose hands the tree could hew, And work with slins of cut bamboo, Went forward, ana to guide them, they Whose eyes before had seen the way. Then onward in triumphant mood Went all the mighty multitude, Like the great sea whose waves leap high When the full moon is in the sky. Then, in his proper duty skilled, Each joined him to his several guild, And onward in advance they went With every tool and implement. Where bush and tangled creeper lay With trenchant steel they made the way; They felled each stump, removed each stone, And many a tree was overthrown. In other spots, on desert lands. Tall trees were reared by busy hands. Where'er the line of road they took, They plied the hatchet, axe, and hook.
' I follow in this stanza the Bombay edition in preference to Schlegel's whicii gives the tears of joy to the courtiers.
Canto LXXXL