The Rāmāyaṇa of Vālmīki 2.44.22

2.44.22

ete hi dayitā rājñaḥ pitur daśarathasya me
etaiḥ suvihitair aśvair bhaviṣyāmy aham arcitaḥ

Again the hero spake, as round
The king his shapely arms he wound:
'Guha, I see that all is well
With thee and those who with thee dwell;
That health and bliss and wealth attend
Thy realm, thyself, and every friend.
But all these friendly gifts of thine,
Bound to refuse, I must decline.
Grass, bark, and hide my only wear,
And woodland roots and fruit my fare,
On duty all my heart is set;
I seek the woods, an anchoret.
A little grass and corn to feed
The horses--this is all I need.
So by this favour, King, alone
Shall honour due to me be shown.
For these good steeds who brought me here
Are to my sire supremely dear;
And kind attention paid to these
Will honour me and highly please,'
Then Guha quickly bade his train
Give water to the steeds, and grain,
And Ráma, ere the night grew dark,
Paid evening rites in dress of bark,
And tasted water, on the strand,
Drawn from the stream by Lakshman's hand.
And Lakshman with observance meet
Bathed his beloved brother's feet,
Who rested with his Maithil spouse:
Then sat him down 'neath distant boughs.
And Guha with his bow sat near
To Lakshman and the charioteer,
And with the prince conversing kept
His faithful watch while Rama slept.
As Das'aratha's glorious heir,
Of lofty soul and wisdom rare,
Reclining with his Sítá there
Beside the river lay--
He who no troubles e'er had seen,
Whose life a life of bliss had been--
That night beneath the branches green
Passed pleasantly away.