O'erwhelmed with rapture Bharat heard The tale that all his being stirred, And, heralding the glad event, This order to Satrughna sent: 'Let every shrine with flowers be gay Let incense burn and music play. Go forth, go forth to meet your king, Let tabours sound and minstrels sing, Let bards swell high the note of praise Skilled in the lore of ancient days.
Call forth the royal matrons: call Each noble from the council hall. Send all we love and honour most, Send Bráhmans and the warrior host, A glorious company to bring In triumph home our lord the king.'
Great rapture filled S'atrughna's breast, Obedient to his brother's hest. 'Send forth ten thousand men' he cried, 'Let brawny arms be stoutly plied, And, smoothing all with skilful care, The road for Kosal's king prepare. Then o'er the earth let thousands throw Fresh showers of water cool as snow, And others strew with garlands gay With loveliest blooms our monarch's way.
On tower and temple porch and gate Let banners wave in royal state. And be each roof and terrace lined With blossoms loose and chaplets twined.'
The nobles hasting forth fulfilled His order as S'atrughna willed. Sublime on elephants they rode Whose gilded girths with jewels glowed. Attended close by thousands more Gay with the gear and flags they bore. A thousand chiefs their steeds bestrode, Their glittering cars a thousand showed.
And countless hosts in rich array Pursued on foot their eager way. Veiled from the air with silken screens In litters rode the widowed queens. Kausalyá first, acknowledged head And sovereign of the household, led: Sumitrá next, and after, dames Of lower rank and humbler names.
Then compassed by a white-robed throng Of Bráhmans, heralded with song, With shouts of joy from countless throats, And shells' and tambours' mingled notes, And drums resounding long and loud, Exulting Bharat joined the crowd. Still on his head, well-trained in lore Of duty, Ráma's shoes he bore.
The moon-white canopy was spread With flowery twine engarlanded And jewelled chouries, meet to hold O'er Ráma's brow, shone bright with gold, Though Nandigráma's town they neared, Of Ráma yet no sign appeared. Then Bharat called the Vánar chief And questioned thus in doubt and grief:
'Hast thou uncertain, like thy kind, A sweet delusive guile designed? Where, where is royal Ráma? show The hero, victor of the foe. I gaze, but see no Vánars still Who wear each varied shape at will.'
In eager love thus Bharat cried, And thus the Wind-God's son replied: 'Look, Bharat, on those laden trees That murmur with the song of bees; For Ráma's sake the saint has made Untimely fruits, unwonted shade. Such power in ages long ago Could Indra's gracious boon bestow.
O, hear the Vánars' voices, hear The shouting which proclaims them near E'en now about to cross they seem Sweet Gomati's delightful stream. I see, I see the car designed By Brahmá's own creative mind, The car which, radiant as the moon, Moves at the will by Brahmá's boon;
The car which once was Rávan's pride, The victor's spoil when Rávan died. Look, there are Raghu's sons: between The brothers stands the rescued queen. There is Vibhíshan full in view, Sugríva and his retinue.'
He ceased: then rapture loosed each tongue: From men and dames, from old and young, One long, one universal cry, 'Tis he,'tis Ráma, smote the sky. All lighted down with eager speed From elephant and car and steed, And every joyful eye intent On Ráma's moonbright face was bent.
Entranced a moment Bharat gazed: Then reverential hands he raised, And on his brother humbly pressed The honours due to welcome guest. Then Bharat clomb the car to greet His king and bowed him at his feet, Till Ráma raised him face to face And held him in a close embrace.
Then Lakshman and the Maithil dame He greeted as he spoke his name He greeted next, supreme in place, The sovereign of the Vánar race, And Jámbaván and Báli's son, And lords and chiefs, omitting none. Sugríva to his heart he pressed And thus with grateful words addressed:
'Four brothers, Vánar king, were we, And now we boast a fifth in thee. By kindly acts a friend we know: Offence and wrong proclaim the foe,' To King Vibhíshan then he spake: 'Well hast thou fought fov Ráma's sake.' Nor was the brave S'atrughna slow His reverential love to show To both his brothers, as was meet, And venerate the lady's feet.
Then Ráma to his mother came, Saw her pale cheek and wasted frame, With gentle words her heart consoled, And clasped her feet with loving hold. Then at Sumitra's feet he bent, And fair Kaikeyi's, reverent, Greeted each dame from chief to least, And bowed him to the household priest.
Up rose a shout from all the throng: 'O welcome, Ráma, mourned so long. Welcome, Kausalyá's joy and pride,' Ten hundred thousand voices cried. Then Bharat placed, in duty taught, On Ráma's feet the shoes he brought: 'My King,' he cried, 'receive again The pledge preserved through years of pain, The rule and lordship of the land Entrusted to my weaker hand.
No more I sigh o'er sorrows past, My birth and life are blest at last In the glad sight this day has shown, When Ráma comes to rule his own.'
He ceased: the faithful love that moved The prince's soul each heart approved; Nor could the Vánar chiefs refrain From tender tears that fell like rain. Then Ráma, stirred with joy anew, His arms about his brother threw, And to the grove his course he bent Where Bharat's hermit days were spent.
Alighting in that pure retreat He pressed the earth with eager feet. Then, at his hest, the car rose high And sailing through the northern sky Sped homeward to the Lord of Gold Who owned the wondrous prize of old.
