Ramayana 2.142

The long-eyed lady ceased: she shed Pure scent and grain upon his head. And that prized herb whose sovereign power Preserves from dark misfortune's hour, Upon the hero's arm she set, To be his faithful amulet. While holy texts she murmured low, And spoke glad words though crushed by woe, Concealing with obedient tongue The pangs with which her heart was wrung. She bent, she kissed his brow, she pressed Her darling to her troubled breast: "Firm in thy purpose, go," she cried, "Go Rama, and may bliss betide. Attain returning safe and well, Triumphant in Ayodhya, dwell. Then shall my happy eyes behold The empire by thy will controlled. Then grief and care shall leave no trace, Joy shall light up thy mother's face, And I shall see my darling reign, In moonlike glory come again. These eyes shall fondly gaze on thee So faithful to thy sire's decree, When thou the forest wild shalt quit On thine ancestral throne to sit. Yea, thou shalt turn from exile back, Nor choicest blessings ever lack, Then fill with rapture ever new My bosom and thy consort's too. To Siva and the heavenly host My worship has been paid, To mighty saint, to godlike ghost, To every wandering shade. Forth to the forest thou wilt hie, Therein to dwell so long: Let all the quarters of the sky Protect my child from wrong." Her blessings thus the queen bestowed; Then round him fondly paced, And often, while her eyes o'erflowed, Her dearest son embraced. Kausalya's honoured feet he pressed, As round her steps she bent, And radiant with her prayers that blessed, To Sita's home he went.