"Son of Queen Tara, Angad ran To parley with the godlike man. Still fiery-eyed with rage and hate Stands Lakshman at the city gate, And trembling Vénars scarce can fly Scathed by the lightning of his eye. Go with thy son, thy kith and kin, The favour of prince to win And bow they revered head that so His fiery wrath may cease to glow."