Ramayana 3.220a

"Long are his arms and large his eyes: A black deer's skin his dress supplies. King Dasaratha's son is he, Fair as Kandarpa's self to see. Adorned with many a golden band, A bow, like Indra's, arms his hand, And shoots a flood of arrows fierce As venomed snakes to burn and pierce. I looked, I looked, but never saw His mighty hand the bowstring draw That sent the deadly arrows out, While rang through air his battle-shout. I looked, I looked, and saw too well How with that hail the giants fell, As falls to earth the golden grain, Struck by the blows of Indra's rain. He fought, and twice seven thousand, all Terrific giants, strong and tall, Fell by the pointed shafts o'erthrown Which Rama shot on foot, alone. Three little hours had scarcely fled,-- Khara and Dushan both were dead, And he had freed the saints and made Asylum sure in Dandak's shade. Me of his grace the victor spared, Or I the giants' fate had shared. The high-souled Rama would not deign His hand with woman's blood to stain. The glorious Lakshman, justly dear, In gifts and warrior might his peer, Serves his great brother with the whole Devotion of his faithful soul: Impetuous victor, bold and wise, First in each hardy enterprise, Still ready by his side to stand, A second self or better hand. And Rama has a large-eyed spouse, Pure as the moon her cheek and brows, Dearer than life in Rama's sight, Whose happiness is her delight. With beauteous hair and nose the dame From head to foot has naught to blame. She shines the wood's bright Goddess, Queen Of beauty with her noble mien. First in the ranks of women placed Is Sita of the dainty waist. In all the earth mine eyes have ne'er Seen female form so sweetly fair. Goddess nor nymph can vie with her, Nor bride of heavenly chorister. He who might call this dame his own, Her eager arms about him thrown, Would live more blest in Sita's love Than Indra in the world above.