On lake and brook and scented grove

His glances fell, as on he drove:

City and village came in view

As o'er the road his coursers flew.

On the third day the charioteer,

When now the hour of night was near,

Came to Ayodhyá's gate, and found

The city all in sorrow drowned.

To him, in spirit quite cast down,

Forsaken seemed the silent town,