t's dress and matted hair:
With fruit and roots my life sustain,
And still beyond the realm remain,
Longing for thee to come again.
The rule and all affairs of state
I to these shoes will delegate.
And if, O tamer of thy foes,
When fourteen years have reached their close,
I see thee not that day return,
The kindled fire my frame shall burn."

Then Rama to his bosom drew
Dear Bharat and Satrughna too:
"Be never wroth," he cried, "with her,
Kaikeyi's guardian minister:
This, glory of Ikshvaku's line,
Is Sita's earnest prayer and mine."
He spoke, and as the big tears fell,
To his dear brother bade farewell.
Round Rama, Bharat strong and bold
In humble reverence paced,
When the bright sandals wrought with gold
Above his brows were placed.
The royal elephant who led
The glorious pomp he found,
And on the monster's mighty head
Those sandals duly bound.
Then noble Rama, born to swell
The glories of his race,
To all in order bade farewell
With love and tender grace--
To brothers, counsellers, and peers,--
Still firm, in duty proved,
Firm, as the Lord of Snow uprears
His mountains unremoved.
No queen, for choking sobs and sighs,
Could say her last adieu:
Then Rama bowed, with flooded eyes,
And to his cot withdrew.

Canto CXIII. Bharat's Return.

Bearing the sandals on his head
Away triumphant Bharat sped,
And clomb, Satrughna by his side,
The car wherein he wont to ride.
Before the mighty army went
The lords for counsel eminent,
Vasishtha, Vamadeva next,
Javali, pure with prayer and text.
Then from that lovely river they
Turned eastward on their homeward way:
With reverent steps from left to right
They circled Chitrakuta's height,
And viewed his peaks on every side
With stains of thousand metals dyed.
Then Bharat saw, not far away,
Where Bharadvaja's dwelling lay,
And when the chieftain bold and sage
Had reached that holy hermitage,
Down from the car he sprang to greet
The saint, and bowed before his feet.
High rapture filled the hermit's breast,
Who thus the royal prince addressed:
"Say, Bharat, is thy duty done?
Hast thou with Rama met, my son?"

The chief whose soul to virtue clave
This answer to the hermit gave:
"I prayed him with our holy guide:
But Raghu's son our prayer denied,
And long besought by both of us
He answered Saint Vasishtha thus:
"True to my vow, I still will be
Observant of my sire's decree:
Till fou