Ramayana 4.198

As on their way the Vanars went To rouse each distant armament, They chanced that wondrous tree to view That on Himalaya's summit grew. Of old upon that sacred height Was wrought Mahesvar's(648) glorious rite, Which every God in heaven beheld, And his glad heart with triumph swelled. There from pure seed at random sown Bright plants with luscious fruit had grown, And, sweet as Amrit to the taste, The summit of the mountain graced. Who once should eat the virtuous fruit That sprang from so divine a root, One whole revolving moon should be From every pang of hunger free. The Vanars culled the fruit they found Ripe on the sacrificial ground With rare celestial odours sweet, To lay them at Sugriva's feet. Those noble envoys scoured the land To summon every Vanar band Then swiftly homeward at the head Of countless armaments they sped. They gathered by Kishkindha's wall. They thronged Sugriva's palace hall, And, richly laden, bare within That fruit of heavenly origin. Their gifts before their king they spread, And thus in tones of triumph said: