Ramayana 3.315

They led her to that garden where The sweetest flowers perfumed the air, Where bright trees bore each rarest fruit, And birds, enamoured, ne'er were mute. Bowed down with terror and distress, Watched by each cruel giantess,-- Like a poor solitary deer When ravening tigresses are near,-- The hapless lady lay distraught Like some wild thing but newly caught, And found no solace, no relief From agonizing fear and grief; Not for one moment could forget Each terrifying word and threat, Or the fierce eyes upon her set By those who watched around. She thought of Rama far away, She mourned for Lakshman as she lay In grief and terror and dismay Half fainting on the ground.