Ramayana 2.237

"With thee, O Rama, to the wood All Brahmans go and Brahmanhood: Borne on our aged shoulders, see, Our fires of worship go with thee. Bright canopies that lend their shade In Vajapeya(319) rites displayed, In plenteous store are borne behind Like cloudlets in the autumn wind. No shelter from the sun hast thou, And, lest his fury burn thy brow, These sacrificial shades we bear Shall aid thee in the noontide glare. Our hearts, who ever loved to pore On sacred text and Vedic lore, Now all to thee, beloved, turn, And for a life in forests yearn. Deep in our aged bosoms lies The Vedas' lore, the wealth we prize, There still, like wives at home, shall dwell, Whose love and truth protect them well. To follow thee our hearts are bent; We need not plan or argument. All else in duty's law we slight, For following thee is following right. O noble Prince, retrace thy way: O, hear us, Rama, as we lay, With many tears and many prayers, Our aged heads and swan-white hairs Low in the dust before thy feet; O, hear us, Rama, we entreat. Full many of these who with thee run, Their sacred rites had just begun. Unfinished yet those rites remain; But finished if thou turn again. All rooted life and things that move To thee their deep affection prove. To them, when warmed by love, they glow And sue to thee, some favour show, Each lowly bush, each towering tree Would follow too for love of thee. Bound by its root it must remain; But--all it can--its boughs complain, As when the wild wind rushes by It tells its woe in groan and sigh. No more through air the gay birds flit, But, foodless, melancholy sit Together on the branch and call To thee whose kind heart feels for all."