Canto IV: Raghu succeeds his Father,—and conquers the World

Then Raghu took the Kingdom which his Sire
Had given, and shone more glorious, as at eve
Fire gains fresh splendour from the setting Sun;
But at the news, in kings who hated him
Blazed wrathful fire from smouldering envy bred.
His folk, in children rich, with hearts and eyes
Alike uplifted, rank on rank, rejoiced
To see him raised on high like Indra's flag.
For, mounted on his elephant, he seized
At once his Father's throne and foemen's realms.
Him, consecrate to undivided rule,
With lotus-parasol the Royal State,
Sun-circled, hailed as Lord; while Eloquence—
In bards embodied—loudly sang his praise
With verse sincere; and treasure-yielding Earth,
Whom Kings from Manu onwards well had loved,
Wooed him as though she ne'er had loved before.
Like Southern breeze, which neither burns nor chills,
While sternly smiting wrong he won men's hearts;
By virtues excellent with joy he chased
What grief the people felt his Sire to lose,—
As when the fruit appears the mango's flower
Is scarce remembered. Men of counsel spread
Both good and ill before him; only good
He chose, but never ill; peculiar grace
The Primal Virtues won,—that all the World
Beneath his sway seemed new. By her cool rays
The Moon refreshes, by his heat the Sun
Gives life; and he, who shining charmed his folk,
True "King" appeared. His wide-expanded eyes
Lit up his face, but Sacred Lore it was,
Dividing subtle points of right and wrong,
That gave best insight. Firm he set his throne,
On virtue based:—the grateful Earth reposed.
Past Summer's heat, serene came Autumn on,
Like Royal State redoubled, lotus-decked:
Then in bright splendour cloudless Sun and he
Together ruled the world, invincible,
When after rain light clouds prepared their way.
The rainbow Indra drew, his mighty bow
Drew Raghu; in his sphere each reigned supreme,
And blessed by ruling. Autumn with sunshade
And fan of waving grass his Royal state
Affected, but his glory could not reach.
The Moon, with clear cold rays, and his fair face,
Unruffled, drank the folk with equal zest ;
The radiance of their glory seemed dispersed,
In rows of swans, in stars, in lilied lakes
Resplendent. Seated in the cane-brakes' shade,
While women watched the crops they sang his praise,
As good as far-renowned, from childhood up.
Clear shone the waters when Canopus rose,
Great jar-born Saint, while fearful of defeat
The foes of Raghu quaked; for furious bulls,
Of mighty frame, huge-humped, that tore the banks
Of rivers, shadowed forth his sportive strength.
His elephants, in seeming rivalry,
Poured sevenfold ichor, struck by fragrant blooms
Of Sapta-parna. Autumn now dried up
The roads, made rivers fordable, and stirred
The King to war and conquest, though his host
Was not yet ready. Rose the altar-fire,
With solemn rites for sacrifice prepared,
To bless his conquering arms: with lambent flame
It gave auspicious sign. His capital
The King safeguarded, and his frontier-posts,
Nor left his rear exposed: then with his host
Complete, six-membered, conquering he went.
As Milky Ocean churned with Mandara
On Vishṇu dashed its foam, so matrons staid
Showered rice on Raghu, when to the East his face
He turned, with wind-shook pennants threatening
His foes with chastisement,—while clouds of dust
His chariots raised and elephants, till earth
Seemed borne on high, and air a well-trod plain.
In front flashed armour, followed noise of war,
Next dust, then chariots, horses, men,—the host
Fourfold-divided marched. Then in his might
He made the desert plains to laugh with streams,
Made rivers fordable, not hard to cross,
And cleared the forests, cutting roads. He led
His valiant host, that rolled like Northern Sea,
Or as when heavenly Gangâ, by the Saint
Brought down to earth, strayed in the braided hair
Of Çiva. Passed the King, whose passing kings
O'erthrown, deposed, or brought to vassalage,
Marked by their fall, as march of elephant
Trees show uprooted. Eastward swept the King
(And one by one subdued the Eastern realms)
To Ocean's shore, which sombre palm-trees shade.
Chiefs who opposed he spoiled:—the Suhma power
Submitting, won his grace, who bowed like reeds
Before a mountain-torrent; but in wrath
He smote the Bangal hosts, who proudly fought,
Vainglorious of their ships: triumphal stones
On Gangâ's isles he reared; his stubborn foe,
Subdued and then re-settled, tribute brought,
And bowed like rice before his lotus-feet.
Then with his hosts he crossed the Kapiçâ
On living bridge (Utkalas showed the way),
Smote the Kâlingas, on Mahendra's crest
A pillar fixed of conquest, as Mahauts
In head of restive elephants their goads.
For, strong in elephants, with pomp of war
Kâlingas met him, as with rocky rain
Mountains met Indra's onslaught, when he came
To clip their wings. Their shower of darts the King
Sustained undaunted, winning glorious fight,
While hurtling shafts seemed but the cleansing drops
Of due lustration; then his warriors drank
In shady betel-bowers at once the milk
Of cocoa-palms, and vict'ry o'er their foes.
The King—with lawful triumph—took his fame,
But not his country, from Mahendra's king,
And set him free; then by the sea-coast way,
Where bowed with fruit Arecas, peaceful passed,
Since there Agastya ruled. In Kâverî
His soldiers plunged, all fragrant with the juice
Of elephants, and stirred the jealous rage
Of Ocean, spouse of rivers. Pepper-groves
On Mount Mahendra's skirts, lov'd home of birds,
His forces occupied, as on he marched
To conquest. Trampled by his steeds, the bloom
Upflying from the fruit of cardamums
Clung to the foreheads of his elephants,
And challenged their rich scent; like hooded snakes
The strong neck-chains embraced the sandal-trunks,
And bound the elephants that mocked at ropes.
The Sun himself glows dim on Southern shores,
Yet could the Pândyas not endure e'en there
The beams of Sun-like Raghu,—who his fill
Sported on Malaya and Dardura,
Which, sandal-clad, like twin breasts crown the shore.
Invincible in might, the Sahya range
He crossed, by Ocean left—as 'twere Earth's loins
Reft of their garment: Jamadagni's son
Of old disjoined them, but as Raghu's hosts
Marched further west, the sea and mountain met.
Low bowed the Sahyas, and their choicest pearl—
From Ocean won where Saptaparni flows
Down to the Sea,—presented, symbol fair
Of spotless fame. Fine-powdered sandalwood,
Which women of Karela wore, with dust
Raised by his army soon the King replaced.
Unforced the yellow seed of Ketakas,
Which river-breezes waft from Muralâ,
Was scented powder for his mail-clad host.
Through forests sighed the wind: their harness clanked
On swiftly-moving steeds, that overpowered
Areca-trees deep-rustling, while black bees
Dropped from Punnâgas on the streaming brows
Of elephants love-maddened, tied to trunks
Of smooth date-bearing palms. The Sea, men tell,
At Jamadagni's bidding ceased to flow,—
But through the Western King its tribute gave
To Raghu. He Trikûta's mountain made,—
Where furious elephants had graved his fame
For all to see,—the record of his deeds,
A mighty pillar. 'Gainst the Persians next
He through the desert marched, as holy men
By Sacred Learning smite their inbred foes,
The senses. Scarcely could the King withstand
Soft wiles of Yavan women, lotus-faced,
That sought his love,—as Autumn-clouds must fade,
Untimely-risen, when the Sun new-born
Beams bright above the lotus. Fiercest war
He with the Westerns waged, in horses strong,
While twang of bows alone revealed their place.
The bearded heads his warriors had cut off
Now strewed the plain, as bees swarm thickly round
The honeycomb: the remnant bared their heads,
And claimed his mercy: rage in hero-souls
Submission will appease. Their toils of war
His host forgot, carousing in choice bowers
Which vines surrounded, spread with costly furs.
Thence Northward marched the King, resolved to quell
The Northern princes with his dreaded shafts,
As, when his beams have drained moist Southern lands,
The Sun too turns him North. His mighty acts,
Wrought on their husbands, Hûna dames proclaimed,—
Recorded on their cheeks in angry scars.
His horses, resting after toils of war,
Refreshed on Sindhu's banks, their shoulders shook,
Where saffron-tendrils clung. Akshota trees,
Bruised by the chains that bound his elephants,
Bent low: bowed too Kambojas, fain to yield
Before his prowess: heaps of gold, fine steeds,
In tribute offering, which the mighty King
Accepted graciously, and spared their pride.
Famed for his horses, next Himâlaya
He mounted, where the clouds of dust they raised
From trampled rocks exalted more the peaks.
Couched in their caves, great lions—brave as he—
Gazed on him undisturbed, nor feared the noise
His warriors made; while murmuring winds that coursed
Through Bhûrja trees, or rustled in the canes,
Moist from the waves of Gangâ, cherished him
As on he swept to conquest. On the rocks
His soldiers rested, fragrant of musk-deer,
That couched in shade of great Nameru trees.
Tall phosphorescent plants that gleamed at night,
Their lustre doubled by the glancing chains
Which bound great elephants to Sarâla trees,
Were lamps for Raghu,—lamps not fed with oil.
Where he encamped the towering Devadârs
Told hillmen of his march, with bruisèd bark
By halters torn. A grim and bloody fight
With mountain tribes he fought, where darts, and stones,
And arrows mingled hurtling, striking fire.
The Utsavasanketas from their feasts
He stopped, and taught the Kinnaras to sing
New anthems for his conquests. Tribute there
The tribes presented: Raghu owned the might
Of great Himâlaya, and was by him
Acknowledged peerless: there the Monarch fixed
His glory's mound secure, and shamed the Hill
Paulastya raised of yore. He traversed next
Lauhitya, and Prâgyotish quaked, as shook
Black aloes where he bound his elephants.
Scarce could he bear with Raghu's chariots' dust,
Which veiled the sun and darkened all the sky,
Yet brought no rain; how then should he withstand
The armèd host? Him Kâmarûpa's king
Served with his elephants, those mighty beasts,
Love-maddened, which he used to smite his foes;
And gems for flowers he offered at those feet,
Which—laid on golden footstools—shone divine.

All realms subdued, home came the mighty Lord,
While humbly kings, with heads unshaded now,
Received the dust raised by his chariot-wheels.
Then Sacrifice he made for Rule Supreme
By conquest won, when all his wealth a King
Bestows in alms;—as clouds store up the rain,
To feed their bounty generous kings take tax.
But when the solemn Sacrifice was o'er,
Great Raghu, whom his ministers loved well,
With signal honours healing first the wounds
Defeat had branded, sent away the kings
Who graced his triumph,—and who yearned to clasp
Their long-forsaken queens,—dismissed in peace.
Low bowed that royal band before his feet,
Not boastingly stretched out, with lines, and flags,
And thunderbolts adorned, and jasmine white,
Which from their diadems those kings let fall.