“Go, Ráma go,” the sage replied:
Then from the cot the chieftain hied.
And while the pleasant grove he viewed,
The path the hermit showed, pursued.
Of every leaf, of changing hue.
Plants, trees by hundreds round him grew,
With joyous eyes he looked on all,
Then Jak,[427] the wild rice, and Sál;[428]
He saw the red Hibiscus glow,
He saw the flower-tipped creeper throw