attled form on high.
Their arms were mighty trees o'erthrown,
And massy blocks of mountain stone.
One hope in every warlike breast,
One firm resolve, they onward pressed,
To die in fight or batter down
The walls and towers of Lanka's town.

Those marshalled legions Rama eyed,
And thus to King Sugriva cried:
"Now, Monarch, ere the hosts proceed,
Let Suka, Ravan's spy, be freed."
He spoke: the Vanar gave consent
And loosed him from imprisonment:
And Suka, trembling and afraid,
His homeward way to Ravan made.
Loud laughed the lord of Lanka's isle:
"Where hast thou stayed this weary while?
Why is thy plumage marred, and why
Do twisted cords thy pinions tie?
Say, comest thou in evil plight
The victim of the Vanars' spite?"

He ceased: the spy his fear controlled,
And to the king his story told:
"I reached the ocean's distant shore,
Thy message to the king I bore.
In sudden wrath the Vanars rose,
They struck me down with furious blows;
They seized me helpless on the ground,
My plumage rent, my pinions bound.
They would not, headlong in their ire,
Consider, listen, or inquire;
So fickle, wrathful, rough and rude
Is the wild forest multitude.
There, marshalling the Vanar bands,
King Rama with Sugriva stands,
Rama the matchless warrior, who
Viradha and Kabandha slew,
Khara, and countless giants more,
And tracks his queen to Lanka's shore.
A bridge athwart the sea was cast,
And o'er it have his legions passed.
Hark! heralded by horns and drums
The terrible avenger comes.
E'en now the giants' isle he fills
With warriors huge as clouds and hills,
And burning with vindictive hate
Will thunder soon at Lanka's gate.
Yield or oppose him: choose between
Thy safety and the Maithil queen."

He ceased: the tyrant's eyeballs blazed
With fury as his voice he raised:
"No, if the dwellers of the sky,
Gandharvas, fiends assail me, I
Will keep the Maithil lady still,
Nor yield her back for fear of ill.
When shall my shafts with iron hail
My foeman, Raghu's son, assail,
Thick as the bees with eager wing
Beat on the flowery trees of spring?
O, let me meet my foe at length,
And strip him of his vaunted strength,
Fierce as the sun who shines afar
Stealing the light of every star.
Strong as the sea's impetuous might
My ways are like the tempest's flight;
But Rama knows not this, or he
In terror from my face would flee."

Canto XXV. Ravan's Spies.(938)

When Rama and the host he led
Across the sea had