break
The spell that holds him, and awake;
Nor long shall numbing magic bind
The mighty arm, the lofty mind."

He ceased: his finger bathed in dew
Across Sugriva's eyes he drew;
From dulling mist his vision freed,
And spoke these words to suit the need:
"No time is this for fear: away
With fainting heart and weak delay.
Now, e'en the tear which sorrow wrings
From loving eyes destruction brings.
Up, on to battle at the head
Of those brave troops which Rama led.
Or guardian by his side remain
Till sense and strength the prince regain.
Soon shall the trance-bound pair revive,
And from our hearts all sorrow drive.
Though prostrate on the earth he lie,
Deem not that Rama's death is nigh;
Deem not that Lakshmi will forget
Or leave her darling champion yet.
Rest here and be thy heart consoled;
Ponder my words, be firm and bold.
I, foremost in the battlefield,
Will rally all who faint or yield.
Their staring eyes betray their fear;
They whisper each in other's ear.
They, when they hear my cheering cry
And see the friend of Rama nigh,
Will cast their gloom and fears away
Like faded wreaths of yesterday."

Thus calmed he King Sugriva's dread;
Then gave new heart to those who fled.
Fierce Indrajit, his soul on fire
With pride of conquest, sought his sire,
Raised reverent hands, and told him all,
The battle and the princes' fall.
Rejoicing at his foes' defeat
Upsprang the monarch from his seat,
Girt by his giant courtiers: round
His warrior son his arms he wound,
Close kisses on his head applied,
And heard again how Rama died.

Canto XLVII. Sita.

Still on the ground where Rama slept
Their faithful watch the Vanars kept.
There Angad stood o'erwhelmed with grief
And many a lord and warrior chief;
And, ranged in densest mass around,
Their tree-armed legions held the ground.
Far ranged each Vanar's eager eye,
Now swept the land, now sought the sky,
All fearing, if a leaf was stirred,
A Rakshas in the sound they heard.
The lord of Lanka in his hall,
Rejoicing at his foeman's fall,
Commanded and the warders came
Who ever watched the Maithil dame.
"Go," cried the Rakshas king, "relate
To Janak's child her husband's fate.
Low on the earth her Rama lies,
And dark in death are Lakshman's eyes.
Bring forth my car and let her ride
To view the chieftains side by side.
The lord to whom her fancy turned
For whose dear sake my love she spurned,
Lies smitten, as he fiercely led
The battle, with his b