The Ramayan

Vasishtha with his soul athirst To look again on Rama, first In line the royal widows placed, And then the way behind them traced. The ladies moving, faint and slow, Saw the fair stream before them flow, And by the bank their steps were led Which the two brothers visited. Kausalya with her faded cheek And weeping eyes began to speak, And thus in mournful tones addressed The queen Sumitra and the rest: "See in the wood the bank's descent, Which the two orphan youths frequent, Whose noble spirits never fall, Though woes surround them, reft of all. Thy son with love that never tires Draws water hence which mine requires. This day, for lowly toil unfit, His pious task thy son should quit."

As on the long-eyed lady strayed, On holy grass, whose points were laid Directed to the southern sky, The funeral offering met her eye. When Rama's humble gift she spied Thus to the queens Kausalya cried: "The gift of Rama's hand behold, His tribute to the king high-souled, Offered to him, as texts require, Lord of Ikshvaku's line, his sire! Not such I deem the funeral food Of kings with godlike might endued. Can he who knew all pleasures, he Who ruled the earth from sea to sea, The mighty lord of monarchs, feed On Ingudi's extracted seed? In all the world there cannot be A woe, I ween, more sad to see, Than that my glorious son should make His funeral gift of such a cake. The ancient text I oft have heard This day is true in every word: "Ne'er do the blessed Gods refuse To eat the food their children use.' "