continued from previous issue

And they met in consultation, joyously with one accord,
Freely and in measured accents,
gave their answer to their lord: “Years of toil and watchful labour weigh upon thee, king of men, Young in years is righteous Rama, Heir and Regent let him reign,
We would see the princely Rama, Heir and Regent duly made,
Riding -on the royal tusker in the white umbrella’s shade!” Searching still their secret purpose, seeking still their thought to know,
Spake again the ancient monarch in his measured words and slow: “I would know your inner feelings,
loyal thoughts and whispers kind,
For a doubt within me lingers and a shadow clouds my mind,
True to Law and true to Duty while I rule this kingdom fair,
Wherefore would you see my Rama seated as the Regent Heir?” “We would see him Heir and Regent,
Dasaratha, ancient lord, For his heart is blessed with valour,
virtue marks his deed and word,
Lives not man in all the wide earth who excels the stainless youth,
In his loyalty to Duty,
in his love of righteous Truth, Truth impels his thought and action,
Truth inspires his soul with grace,
And his virtue fills the wide earth and exalts his ancient race! Bright Immortals know his valour; with his brother Lakshman hold He hath never failed to conquer hostile town or castled hold,
And returning from his battles, from the duties of the war,
Riding on his royal tusker or his allresistless car,
As a father to his children to his loving men he came,
Blessed our homes and maids and matrons till our infants lisped his name,
For our humble woes and troubles Rama hath the ready tear,
To our humble tales of suffering Rama lends his willing ear! Happy is the royal father who hath such a righteous son, For in town and mart and hamlet every heart hath Rama won,
Burghers and the toiling tillers tales of Rama’s kindness say,
Man and infant, maid and matron, morn and eve for Rama pray,
To the Gods and bright Immortals we our inmost wishes send,
May the good and godlike Rama on his father’s throne ascend,
Great in gifts and great in glory,
Rama doth our homage own,
We would see the princely Rama seated on his father’s throne!”

THE CITY DECORATED

With his consort pious Rama, pure in deed and pure in thought,
After evening’s due ablutions NARAYANA’S chamber sought,
Prayed unto the Lord of Creatures, NARAYANA Ancient Sire,
Placed his offering on his forehead,
poured it on the lighted fire,
Piously partook the remnant,
sought for NARAYANA’S aid, As he kept his fast and vigils on the grass of kusa spread.
With her lord the saintly Sita silent passed the sacred night,
Contemplating World’s Preserver,
Lord of Heaven’s ethereal height,
And within the sacred chamber on the grass of kusa lay,
Till the crimson streaks of morning, ushered in the festive day,
Till the royal bards and minstrels chanted forth the morning call,
Healing through the holy chamber,
echoing through the roval hall. Past the night of sacred vigils,
in his silken robes arrayed, Message of the proud anointment Rama to the Brahmans said, And the Brahmans spake to burghers that the festive day was come,
Till the mart and crowded pathway rang with note of pipe and drum,
And the townsmen heard rejoicing of the vigils of the night,
Kept by Rama and by Sita, for the day’s auspicious rite.
Rama shall be Heir and Regent, Rama shall be crowned to-day,
Rapid flew the gladdening message with the morning’s gladsome ray,
And the people of the city, maid and matron, man and boy,
Decorated fair Ayodhya in their wild tumultuous joy! On the temple’s lofty steeple high as cloud above the air,
On the crossing of the pathways,
in the garden green and fair,
On the merchant’s ample warehouse,
on the shop with stores displayed,
On the mansion of the noble by the cunning artist made,
On the gay and bright pavilion, on the high and shady trees.
Banners rose and glittering streamers,
flags that fluttered in the breeze! Actors gay and nimble dancers,
singers skilled in lightsome song,
With their antics and their music pleased the gay and gathered throng,
And the people met in conclaves, spake of Rama, Regent Heir,
And the children by the roadside lisped of Rama brave and fair! Women wove the scented garland,
merry maids the censer lit,
Men with broom and sprinkled water swept the spacious mart and street,
Rows of trees and posts they planted hung with lamps for coming night,
That the midnight dark might rival splendour of the noonday light Troops of men and merry children laboured with a loving care,
Woman’s skill and woman’s fancy made the city passing fair, So that good and kindly Rama might his people’s toil approve, So that sweet and soft-eyed Sita might accept her people’s love! Groups of joyous townsmen gathered in the square or lofty hall,
Praised the monarch Dasa-ratha, regent Rama young and tall: “Great and good is Dasa-ratha born of Raghu’s royal race, In the fulness of his lifetime on his son he grants his grace,
And we hail the rite auspicious for our prince of peerless might, He will guard us by his valotir,
he will save our cherished right, Dear unto his loving brothers in his father’s palace hall,
As is Rama to his brothers dear is Rama to us all, Long live ancient Dasa-ratha king of Raghu’s royal race, We shall see his son anointed by his father’s righteous grace! Thus of Rama’s consecration spake the burghers one and all, And the men from distant hamlets poured within the city wall,
From the confines of the empire,
north and south and west and east,
Came to see the consecration and to share the royal feast! And the rolling tide of nations raised their voices loud and high,
Like the tide of sounding ocean when the full moon lights the sky,
And Ayodhya thronged by people from the hamlet ,
mart and lea, Was tumultuous like the ocean thronged by creatures of the sea!

INTRIGUE

In the inner palace chamber stood the proud and peerless queen,
With a mother’s joy Kaikeyi gaily watched the festive scene,
But with deep and deadly hatred Manthara,
her nurse and maid, Marked the city bright with banners,
and in scornful accents said: “Take thy presents back, Kaikeyi,
for they ill befit the clay,
And when clouds of sorrow darken,
ill beseems thee to be gay,
And thy folly moves my laughter though an anguish wakes my sigh,

to be continued