Kind, slow to anger, prompt at misery's call, His soul was worthy of his princely place, None heard the music of his sweet lips flow He shunned no toils that student's life befit, Then rose a longing in the monarch's breast: "O, that the Gods would take me to their rest; Might I but see, ere yet my course be run, The hallowed waters poured upon my son: See in mine age, a worthy heir, mine own Beloved Rama on Ayodhya's throne." 1 The Preceptor of the Gods. Then with his friends he counselled that his heir Forthwith he summoned, for the solemn day, People and princes near and far away. They came and splendid in his king's attire : He looked upon them, as the Eternal Sire, In all the glory of a God arrayed, Gazes upon the creatures he has made. Like heavenly music, very sweet and loud, Thus spake the monarch to the gathered crowd: "Needs not for me, ye noble lords, to show, How like fond fathers, as full well ye know, The ancient monarchs of our famous line Have ruled this mighty realm which now is mine. Their glorious steps forbade my feet to stray, And I have laboured, with a loving sway, 'Neath the white canopy's imperial shade,' Till strength is vanisht and my health decayed, To bless my people, if they have been blest. And now my weary spirit longs for rest; And many generations round me grown And past away. No longer can I bear The ruler's labour and the judge's care, Rama my dearest and my eldest born. Ye have the plan which I have pondered long : Approve it now, or, if ye deem it wrong, Show, after due consult, a wiser way, Which I will strive to follow if I may." 1 The white umbrella was one of the insignia of royalty. 2 The ancient kings of India enjoyed lives of more than patriarchal length : "While thus, as Indra reigns above the sky, He ruled the earth, ten thousand years flew by." Raghuvansa. X. 1. He ceased. A murmur of so loud acclaim From lords and commons in glad answer came, As when wild peacocks at the rain rejoice, And hail the big cloud with their jubilant voice. The general shout from all the people round Shook the high palace with a storm of sound. And when the crowd, assembled there, had learned The will of him who right and gain discerned, After a brief debate, with one accord, They spake in answer to their sovereign lord: "Rest, aged king, and let Prince Rama share All hearts rejoice above his brow to see True to his promise, resolute of soul, Curbing each passion with a firm control; Kind to the Brahmans skilled in Scripture's page, Matchless on earth with spear and sword and shield, To greet the townsmen as beloved friends: Asks how each man and child and servant thrives, That Heaven accepts our rites, and all is well. In town and village by the old and young. Then grant the prayer, by us this day renewed, And consecrate our Prince, Lord Rama, lotus-hued." |