And when she comes to the tree Asoka, she implores: 

  Ah, lovely tree! that wavest here
  Thy crown of countless shining clustering blooms
  As thou wert woodland king!  Asoka tree! 
  Tree called the sorrow-ender, heart’s-ease tree! 
  Be what thy name saith; end my sorrow now,
  Saying, ah, bright Asoka, thou hast seen
  My Prince, my dauntless Nala—­seen that lord
  Whom Damajanti loves and his foes fear.

In Maghas’ epic, The Death of Sisupala, plants and animals lead the same voluptuous life as the ‘deep-bosomed, wide-hipped’ girls with the ardent men.

’The mountain Raivataka touches the ether with a thousand heads, earth with a thousand feet, the sun and moon are his eyes.  When the birds are tired and tremble with delight from the caresses of their mates, he grants them shade from lotos leaves.  Who in the world is not astonished when he has climbed, to see the prince of mountains who overshadows the ether and far-reaching regions of earth, standing there with his great projecting crags, while the moon’s sickle trembles on his summit?’

In Kalidasa’s Urwasi, the deserted King who is searching for his wife asks the peacock: 

    Oh tell,
  If, free on the wing as you soar,
  You have seen the loved nymph I deplore—­
  You will know her, the fairest of damsels fair,
  By her large soft eye and her graceful air;
  Bird of the dark blue throat and eye of jet,
  Oh tell me, have you seen the lovely face
  Of my fair bride—­lost in this dreary wilderness?

and the mountain: 

  Say mountain, whose expansive slope confines
  The forest verge, oh, tell me hast thou seen
  A nymph as beauteous as the bride of love
  Mounting with slender frame thy steep ascent,
  Or wearied, resting in thy crowning woods?

As he sits by the side of the stream, he asks whence comes its charm: 

  Whilst gazing on the stream, whose new swollen waters
  Yet turbid flow, what strange imaginings
  Possess my soul and fill it with delight. 
  The rippling wave is like her aching brow;
  The fluttering line of storks, her timid tongue;
  The foaming spray, her white loose floating vest;
  And this meandering course the current tracks
  Her undulating gait.

Then he sees a creeper without flowers, and a strange attraction impels him to embrace it, for its likeness to his lost love: 

  Vine of the wilderness, behold
  A lone heartbroken wretch in me,
  Who dreams in his embrace to fold
  His love, as wild he clings to thee.

Thereupon the creeper transforms itself into Urwasi.