Page:Ancient Ballads and Legends of Hindustan.djvu/82

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"Hark! Lakshman! Hark, again that cry!
 * It is,—it is my husband's voice!

Oh hasten, to his succour fly,
 * No more hast thou, dear friend, a choice.

He calls on thee, perhaps his foes
 * Environ him on all sides round,

That wail,—it means death's final throes!
 * Why standest thou, as magic-bound?

Is this a time for thought,—oh gird
 * Thy bright sword on, and take thy bow!

He heeds not, hears not any word,
 * Evil hangs over us, I know!

Swift in decision, prompt in deed,
 * Brave unto rashness, can this be,

The man to whom all looked at need?
 * Is it my brother, that I see!