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"Hindu literature : Comprising The Book of good counsels, Nala and Damayanti, The Ramayana, and Sakoontala"


From tree to tree the monkeys sprung,
Unharmed and unpursued,
As louder still the trumpets rung
And startled all the wood.
The porcupines and such small game
Unnoted fled at will,
The weasel only caught to tame
From fissures in the hill.
Slunk light the tiger from the bank,
But sudden turned to bay!
When he beheld the serried rank
That barred his tangled way.
Uprooting fig-trees on their path,
And trampling shrubs and flowers,
Wild elephants, in fear and wrath,
Burst through, like moving towers.
Lowering their horns in crescents grim
Whene'er they turned about,
Retreated into coverts dim
The bisons' fiercer rout.
And in this mimic game of war
In bands dispersed and passed
The royal train--some near, some far,
As day closed in at last.
Where was the king? He left his friends
At mid-day, it was known,
And now that evening fast descends
Where was he? All alone.
Curving, the river formed a lake,
Upon whose bank he stood, I
No noise the silence there to break,
Or mar the solitude.


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