Canto XLV.: The Departure.

CANTO XLV.: THE DEPARTURE.

Away, away the Vánars
Like locusts o'er the land outspread.
To northern realms where rising high
The King of Mountains cleaves the sky,
Fierce S'atabal with vast array
Of Vánariors led the way.
Far southward, as his lord decreed,
Wise Hanumán Wind-God's seed,
With Angad his swift way pursued,
And Tára's warlike multitude,
Strong Vinata with all his band
Betook him to the eastern land,
And brave Sushen in eager quest
Sped swiftly to the gloomy west.
Each Vánarftain sought with speed
The quarter by his king decreed,
While from his legions rose on high
The shout and boast and battle cry:
'We will restore the dame and beat
The robber down beneath our feet.
My arm alone shall win the day
From Rávanin single fray,
Shall rob the robber of his life,
And rescue Ráma's captive wife
All trembling in her fear and woe.
Here, comrades, rest: no farther go:
For I will vanquish hell, and she
Shall by this arm again be free.
The rooted mountains will I rend,
The mightiest trees will break and bend.
Earth to her deep foundations cleave,
And make the calm sea throb and heave.
A hundred leagues from steep to steep
In desperate bound my feet shall leap.
My steps shall tread unchecked and free.
Through woods, o'er land and hill and sea,
Range as they list from flood to fell,
And wander through the depths of hell.