Yet I, O lady, also know

Due reverence to my lord to show.

Were he the meanest of the base,

Unhonoured with a single grace,

My husband still I ne'er would leave,

But firm through all to him would cleave:

Still rather to a lord like mine

Whose virtues high-exalted shine,

Compassionate, of lofty soul,

With every sense in due control,

True in his love, of righteous mind,

Like a dear sire and mother kind.

E'en as he ever loves to treat

Kau?alyÁ with observance meet,

Has his behaviour ever been

To every other honoured queen.

Nay, more, a sonlike reverence shows

The noble RÁma e'en to those

On whom the king his father set

His eyes one moment, to forget.

Deep in my heart the words are stored,

Said by the mother of my lord,

When from my home I turned away

In the lone fearful woods to stray.

The counsel of my mother deep

Impressed upon my soul I keep,

When by the fire I took my stand,

And RÁma clasped in his my hand.

And in my bosom cherished yet,

My friends' advice I ne'er forget:

Woman her holiest offering pays

When she her husband's will obeys.

Good SÁvitrÍ her lord obeyed,

And a high saint in heaven was made,

And for the self-same virtue thou

Hast heaven in thy possession now.

And she with whom no dame could vie,

Now a bright Goddess in the sky,

Sweet Rohi?Í the Moon's dear Queen,

Without her lord is never seen:

And many a faithful wife beside