Soon as the warriors took their rest

Obeying Bharat's high behest,

Thus Bharat to ?atrughna spake:

And with these hunters o'er and o'er

The thickets of the wood explore.

With bow, sword, arrows in their hands

Let Guha with his kindred bands

Within this grove remaining trace

The children of Kakutstha's race.

And I meanwhile on foot will through

This neighbouring wood my way pursue,

With elders and the twice-born men,

And every lord and citizen.

There is, I feel, no rest for me

Till RÁma's face again I see,

Lakshma?, in arms and glory great,

And SÍtÁ born to happy fate:

No rest, until his cheek as bright

As the fair moon rejoice my sight,

No rest until I see the eye

With which the lotus petals vie;

Till on my head those dear feet rest

With signs of royal rank impressed;

None, till my kingly brother gain

His old hereditary reign,

Till o'er his limbs and noble head

The consecrating drops be shed.

How blest is Janak's daughter, true

To every wifely duty, who

Cleaves faithful to her husband's side

Whose realm is girt by Ocean's tide!

This mountain too above the rest

E'en as the King of Hills is blest,—

Whose shades Kakutstha's scion hold

As Nandan charms the Lord of Gold.

Yea, happy is this tangled grove

Where savage beasts unnumbered rove,

Where, glory of the Warrior race,

Thus Bharat, strong-armed hero spake,

And walked within the pathless brake.

O'er plains where gay trees bloomed he went,

Through boughs in tangled net-work bent,

And then from RÁma's cot appeared

The banner which the flame upreared.

And Bharat joyed with every friend

To mark those smoky wreaths ascend:

“Here RÁma dwells,” he thought; “at last

Then sure that RÁma's hermit cot

Was on the mountain's side

He stayed his army on the spot,

And on with Guha hied.