Then take me with thee to the wood, nor leave me here alone:
I will not be a burthen sore to thee, mine own! mine own!”
But Râma seeks to dissuade her:—
“The forest life has fears and woes too many to be told:
Thirst, hunger, burning heat by day, by night the bitter cold.
Each moment on some deadly thing the heedless step may fall,
Where serpents with their venomed fangs and poisonous scorpions crawl;
There thro’ the day the tiger roams, the panther and the boar,
And thro’ the night the caverned hills echo the lion’s roar;
There many a river deep and wide will bar thine onward way,