Those fiends the gentle queen pursued:

“What! can so fair a life displease,

To dwell with him in joyous ease?

Dwell in his bowers a happy queen

In silk and gold and jewels' sheen?

Still must thy woman fancy cling

To Ráma and reject our king?

Die in thy folly, or forget

That wretched wandering anchoret.

Come, Sítá, in luxurious bowers