eBooks Base 2000

Be sure those fiends can never stand
Before the might of Rama's hand,
And mid the best and bravest none
Can slay that pair but Raghu's son.
Entangled in the toils of Fate
Those sinners, proud and obstinate,
Are, in their fury overbold,
No match for Rama, mighty-souled.
Nor let a father's breast give way
Too far to fond affection's sway.
Count thou the fiends already slain:
My word is pledged, nor pledged in vain.
I know the hero Rama well
In whom high thoughts and valor dwell;
So does Vasishtha, so do these
Engaged in long austerities.
If thou would do the righteous deed,
And win high fame, thy virtue's meed,
Fame that on earth shall last and live,
To me, great King, thy Rama give.
If to the words that I have said,
With Saint Vasishtha at their head
Thy holy men, O King, agree,
Then let thy Rama go with me.
Ten nights my sacrifice will last,
And ere the stated time be past
Those wicked fiends, those impious twain,
Must fall by wondrous Rama slain.


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