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Lifting their aged hands in prayer
They reverence the sun. O look, the merry wind is up,
And scatters leaves around :
mountain seems to dance
With bending forests crowned.
Behold the wavelets white with foam
As round the isles they whirl; Here troubled by the bathing saints,
And there like orient pearl.
Look, scattered by the morning breeze,
What beds of blossoms lie,
And chaplets, cast upon the wave,
Are dancing swiftly by.
Amid the reeds at play :
Responsive far away.
Was not so sweet to me
As gazing on this lovely flood,
That glorious hill, and thee.
Bathe in the gentle stream, to her,
With friendly love, repair, And pluck her lilies in thy play,
And twine them in thy hair. This mount, with all its savage life,
Ayodhya's city deem,
And on this beauteous river look
As our own Sarju's stream. O Sita, I am wild with joy,
So rare a lot is mine
Cheered by a duteous brother's care,
And loved with love like thine."
THE RAPE OF SITA.
“Rayana, finding it in vain to hope to succeed without the aid of stratagem, took with him an assistant sorcerer, disguised as a deer; and as Rama took great pleasure in the chase, it was not difficult for the deer to lure him from his cottage in pursuit. He did not leave his beloved Sita without charging Lakshman, his brother, to remain in charge ; but the wily deer knew how to defeat his precaution, and when transfixed by Rama's arrow he cried out in the voice of Rama, “Oh, Lakshman, save me!” Sita heard the cry, and entreated Lakshman to fly to his brother's rescue. He was unwilling to go, but yielded to her earnestness and she was left alone.” MRS. SPEIR, Life in Ancient India.
As, when the sun and moon their empire leave,
Close to the side of Rama's mourning dame :
Then Ravan cried, pierced by Love's fiery dart : “Speak, marvellous beauty, tell me who thou art : All lonely here, in silken robes arrayed, Wearing a lotus wreath thy brows to shade : What heavenly being do mine eyes behold, Fairer and brighter than the finest gold? Fame? Beauty? Modesty ?-.No less I ween, Or sweet Desire, young Love's voluptuous queen ?
Red are thy lips, thy teeth are small and white ;
No child of earth could wear a smile so sweet,
And O, the wonder of thy perfect feet !
have never seen till now
Loves this wild wood : beneath this gloomy shade
The tiger near thee and the wolf and bear ?