Whose noble might and gentle skill
    The triple world can guard from ill? 
    Who is the best of princes, he
    Who loves his people’s good to see? 
    The store of bliss, the living mine
    Where brightest joys and virtues shine? 
    Queen Fortune’s best and dearest friend,
    Whose steps her choicest gifts attend? 
    Who may with Sun and Moon compare,
    With Indra, Vishnu, Fire, and Air? 
    Grant, Saint divine, the boon I ask,
    For thee, I ween, an easy task,
    To whom the power is given to know
    If such a man breathe here below.”

    Then Narad, clear before whose eye
    The present, past, and future lie,
    Made ready answer:  “Hermit, where
    Are graces found so high and rare? 
    Yet listen, and my tongue shall tell
    In whom alone these virtues dwell. 
    From old Ikshvaku’s line he came,
    Known to the world by Rama’s name:—­
    With soul subdued, a chief of might,
    In Scripture versed, in glory bright. 
    His steps in virtue’s paths are bent,
    Obedient, pure, and eloquent. 
    In each emprise he wins success,
    And dying foes his power confess. 
    Tall and broad-shouldered, strong of limb,
    Fortune has set her mark on him. 
    Graced with a conch-shell’s triple line,
    His throat displays the auspicious sign. 
    High destiny is clear impressed
    On massive jaw and ample chest. 
    His mighty shafts he truly aims,
    And foemen in the battle tames. 
    Deep in the muscle, scarcely shown,
    Embedded lies his collar-bone. 
    His lordly steps are firm and free,
    His strong arms reach below his knee;
    All fairest graces join to deck
    His head, his brow, his stately neck,
    And limbs in fair proportion set:—­
    The manliest form e’er fashioned yet. 
    Graced with each high imperial mark,
    His skin is soft and lustrous dark. 
    Large are his eyes that sweetly shine
    With majesty almost divine. 
    His plighted word he ne’er forgets;
    On erring sense a watch he sets. 
    By nature wise, his teacher’s skill
    Has trained him to subdue his will. 
    Good, resolute and pure, and strong,
    He guards mankind from scathe and wrong,
    And lends his aid, and ne’er in vain,
    The cause of justice to maintain. 
    Well has he studied o’er and o’er
    The Vedas and their kindred lore. 
    Well skilled is he the bow to draw,
    Well trained in arts and versed in law;
    High-souled and meet for happy fate,
    Most tender and compassionate;
    The noblest of all lordly givers,
    Whom good men follow, as the rivers
    Follow the King of Floods, the sea:—­
    So liberal, so just is he. 
    The joy of Queen Kausalya’s heart,
    In every virtue he has part;
    Firm as Himalaya’s snowy