Ramayana 1.245

Then Gadhi's son in fury threw Lord Varun's arm and Rudra's too: Indra's fierce bolt that all destroys; That which the Lord of Herds employs: The Human, that which minstrels keep, The deadly Lure, the endless Sleep: The Yawner, and the dart which charms; Lament and Torture, fearful arms: The Terrible, the dart which dries, The Thunderbolt which quenchless flies, And Fate's dread net, and Brahma's noose, And that which waits for Varun's use: The dart he loves who wields the bow Pinaka, and twin bolts that glow With fury as they flash and fly, The quenchless Liquid and the Dry: The dart of Vengeance, swift to kill: The Goblins' dart, the Curlew's Bill: The discus both of Fate and Right, And Vishnu's, of unerring flight: The Wind-God's dart, the Troubler dread, The weapon named the Horse's Head. From his fierce hand two spears were thrown, And the great mace that smashes bone; The dart of spirits of the air, And that which Fate exults to bear: The Trident dart which slaughters foes, And that which hanging skulls compose:(233) These fearful darts in fiery rain He hurled upon the saint amain, An awful miracle to view. But as the ceaseless tempest flew, The sage with wand of God-sent power Still swallowed up that fiery shower.