e Lakshman thus he cried:
"Take Urmila thine offered bride,
And clasp her hand within thine own
Ere yet the lucky hour be flown."
Then to Prince Bharat thus cried he;
"Come, take the hand of Mandavi."
Then to Satrughna: "In thy grasp
The hand of Srutakirti clasp.
Now, Raghu's sons, may all of you
Be gentle to your wives and true;
Keep well the vows you make to-day,
Nor let occasion slip away."

King Janak's word the youths obeyed;
The maidens' hands in theirs they laid.
Then with their brides the princes went
With ordered steps and reverent
Round both the fire and Janak, round
The sages and the sacred ground.

A flowery flood of lucid dyes
In rain descended from the skies,
While with celestial voices blent
Sweet strains from many an instrument,
And the nymphs danced in joyous throng
Responsive to the minstrel's song.
Such signs of exultation they
Saw on the princes' wedding day.
Still rang the heavenly music's sound
When Raghu's sons thrice circled round
The fire, each one with reverent head,
And homeward then their brides they led.
They to the sumptuous palace hied
That Janak's care had seen supplied.
The monarch girt with saint and peer
Still fondly gazing followed near.

Canto LXXIV. Rama With The Axe.(254)

Soon as the night had reached its close
The hermit Visvamitra rose;
To both the kings he bade adieu
And to the northern hill withdrew.
Ayodhya's lord of high renown
Received farewell, and sought his town.
Then as each daughter left her bower
King Janak gave a splendid dower,
Rugs, precious silks, a warrior force,
Cars, elephants, and foot, and horse,
Divine to see and well arrayed;
And many a skilful tiring-maid,
And many a young and trusty slave
The father of the ladies gave.
Silver and coral, gold and pearls
He gave to his beloved girls.
These precious gifts the king bestowed
And sped his guest upon his road.
The lord of Mithila's sweet town
Rode to his court and lighted down.
Ayodhya's monarch, glad and gay,
Led by the seers pursued his way
With his dear sons of lofty mind:
The royal army marched behind.
As on he fared the voice he heard
Around of many a dismal bird,
And every beast in wild affright
Began to hurry to the right.
The monarch to Vasishtha cried:
"What strange misfortune will betide?
Why do the beasts in terror fly,
And birds of evil omen cry?
What is it shakes my heart with dread?
Why is my soul disquieted?"

Soon as he heard, the mighty saint
T