“Yea, O my lord,” the monarch said,
    And took the vase upon his head,
    The gift of Gods, of fine gold wrought,
    With store of heavenly liquor fraught. 
    He honored, filled with transport new,
    That wondrous being, fair to view,
    As round the envoy of the God
    With reverential steps he trod. 
    His errand done, that form of light
    Arose and vanished from the sight. 
    High rapture filled the monarch’s soul,
    Possessed of that celestial bowl,
    As when a man by want distressed
    With unexpected wealth is blest. 
    And rays of transport seemed to fall
    Illuminating bower and hall,
    As when the autumn moon rides high,
    And floods with lovely light the sky. 
    Quick to the ladies’ bower he sped,
    And thus to Queen Kausalya said:—­
    “This genial nectar take and quaff,”
    He spoke, and gave the lady half. 
    Part of the nectar that remained
    Sumitra from his hand obtained. 
    He gave, to make her fruitful too,
    Kaikeyi half the residue. 
    A portion yet remaining there,
    He paused awhile to think,
    Then gave Sumitra, with her share,
    The remnant of the drink. 
    Thus on each queen of those fair three
    A part the King bestowed,
    And with sweet hope a child to see
    Their yearning bosoms glowed. 
    The heavenly bowl the King supplied
    Their longing souls relieved,
    And soon, with rapture and with pride,
    Each royal dame conceived. 
    He gazed upon each lady’s face,
    And triumphed as he gazed. 
    As Indra in his royal place
    By Gods and spirits praised.

CANTO XVI

THE VANARS

    When Vishnu thus had gone on earth,
    From the great King to take his birth,
    The self-existent Lord of all
    Addressed the Gods who heard his call:—­
    “For Vishnu’s sake, the strong and true,
    Who seeks the good of all of you,
    Make helps, in war to lend him aid,
    In forms that change at will, arrayed,
    Of wizard skill and hero might,
    Outstrippers of the wind in flight,
    Skilled in the arts of counsel, wise,
    And Vishnu’s peers in bold emprise;
    With heavenly arts and prudence fraught,
    By no devices to be caught;
    Skilled in all weapons’ lore and use
    As they who drink the immortal juice. 
    And let the nymphs supreme in grace,
    And maidens of the minstrel race,
    Monkeys and snakes, and those who rove
    Free spirits of the hill and grove,
    And wandering Daughters of the Air,
    In monkey form brave children bear. 
    So erst the lord of bears I shaped,
    Born from my mouth as wide I gaped.”