Now when the high-souled monarch's rite, The Aśvamedh, was finished quite, Their sacrificial dues obtained, The Gods their heavenly homes regained. The lofty-minded saints withdrew, Each to his place, with honor due, And kings and chieftains, one and all, Who came to grace the festival. And Daśaratha, ere they went, Addressed them thus benevolent:-- "Now may you, each with joyful heart, To your own realms, O Kings, depart. Peace and good luck attend you there, And blessing, is my friendly prayer; Let cares of state each mind engage To guard his royal heritage. A monarch from his throne expelled No better than the dead is held. So he who cares for power and might Must guard his realm and royal right. Such care a meed in heaven will bring Better than rites and offering. Such care a king his country owes As man upon himself bestows, When for his body he provides Raiment and every need besides. For future days should kings foresee, And keep the present error-free." Thus did the King the kings exhort-- They heard, and turned them from the court, And, each to each in friendship bound, Went forth to all the realms around. The rites were o'er, the guests were sped, The train the best of Bráhmans led-- In which the King with joyful soul, With his dear wives, and with the whole Of his imperial host and train Of cars and servants turned again, And, as a monarch dear to fame, Within his royal city came.