him who shakes the air;
And,--for he loves his offspring,--he
Is honoured when I honour thee.
Of yore, when Krita's age(793) was new,
The little hills and mountains flew
Where'er they listed, borne on wings
More rapid than the feathered king's.(794)
But mighty terror came on all
The Gods and saints who feared their fall.
And Indra in his anger rent
Their pinions with the bolts he sent.
When in his ruthless fury he
Levelled his flashing bolt at me,
The great-souled Wind inclined to save,
And laid me neath the ocean's wave.
Thus by the favour of the sire
I kept my cherished wings entire;
And for this deed of kindness done
I honour thee his noble son.
O come, thy weary limbs relieve,
And honour due from me receive."
"I may not rest," the Vanar cried;
"I must not stay or turn aside.
Yet pleased am I, thou noblest hill,
And as the deed accept thy will."

Thus as he spoke he lightly pressed
With his broad hand the mountain's crest,
Then bounded upward to the height
Of heaven, rejoicing in his might,
And through the fields of boundless blue,
The pathway of his father, flew.
Gods, saints, and heavenly bards beheld
That flight that none had paralleled,
Then to the Nagas' mother(795) came
And thus addressed the sun-bright dame:
"See, Hanuman with venturous leap
Would spring across the mighty deep,--
A Vanar prince, the Wind-God's seed:
Come, Surasa, his course impede.
In Rakshas form thy shape disguise,
Terrific, like a hill in size:
Let thy red eyes with fury glow,
And high as heaven thy body grow.
With fearful tusks the chief defy,
That we his power and strength may try.
He will with guile thy hold elude,
Or own thy might, by thee subdued."

Pleased with the grateful honours paid,
The godlike dame their words obeyed,
Clad in a shape of terror she
Sprang from the middle of the sea,
And, with fierce accents that appalled
All creatures, to the Vanar called:
"Come, prince of Vanars, doomed to be
My food this day by heaven's decree.
Such boon from ages long ago
To Brahma's favouring will I owe."

She ceased, and Hanuman replied,
By shape and threat unterrified:
"Brave Rama with his Maithil spouse
Lodged in the shade of Dandak's boughs,
Thence Ravan king of giants stole
Sita the joy of Rama's soul.
By Rama's high behest to her
I go a willing messenger;
And never shouldst them hinder one
Who toils for Dasaratha's son.
First captive Sita will I see,
And him who sent and waits for me,
Then come a