uspicious gift.
This story of the flood's descent
Will give--for 'tis most excellent--
Wealth, purity, fame, length of days,
And to the skies its hearers raise"

Canto XLV. The Quest Of The Amrit.

High and more high their wonder rose
As the strange story reached its close,
And thus, with Lakshman, Rama, best
Of Raghu's sons, the saint addressed:
"Most wondrous is the tale which thou
Hast told of heavenly Ganga, how
From realms above descending she
Flowed through the land and filled the sea.
In thinking o'er what thou hast said
The night has like a moment fled,
Whose hours in musing have been spent
Upon thy words most excellent:
So much, O holy Sage, thy lore
Has charmed us with this tale of yore."

Day dawned. The morning rites were done
And the victorious Raghu's son
Addressed the sage in words like these,
Rich in his long austerities:
"The night is past: the morn is clear;
Told is the tale so good to hear:
Now o'er that river let us go,
Three-pathed, the best of all that flow.
This boat stands ready on the shore
To bear the holy hermits o'er,
Who of thy coming warned, in haste,
The barge upon the bank have placed."

And Kusik's son approved his speech,
And moving to the sandy beach,
Placed in the boat the hermit band,
And reached the river's further strand.
On the north bank their feet they set,
And greeted all the saints they met.
On Ganga's shore they lighted down,
And saw Visala's lovely town.
Thither, the princes by his side,
The best of holy hermits hied.
It was a town exceeding fair
That might with heaven itself compare.
Then, suppliant palm to palm applied,
Famed Rama asked his holy guide:
"O best of hermits, say what race
Of monarchs rules this lovely place.
Dear master, let my prayer prevail,
For much I long to hear the tale."
Moved by his words, the saintly man
Visala's ancient tale began:
"List, Rama, list, with closest heed
The tale of Indra's wondrous deed,
And mark me as I truly tell
What here in ancient days befell.
Ere Krita's famous Age(200) had fled,
Strong were the sons of Diti(201) bred;
And Aditi's brave children too
Were very mighty, good, and true.
The rival brothers fierce and bold
Were sons of Kasyap lofty-souled.
Of sister mothers born, they vied,
Brood against brood, in jealous pride.
Once, as they say, band met with band,
And, joined in awful council, planned
To live, unharmed by age and time,
Immortal in their youthful prime.
Then this was, a