Under pretence of looking t dear, bird or tree, She turned again and again
And each time she gazed on the beauteous Hero of Raghu Race,
Her love waxed not little, Dropping at the thought of the yielding Bow of Shiva,
She proceeded with image of swarthy form in her heart, when the lord perceived that Sri Sita, the fountain of bliss, affection, grace, goodness was going, he sketched her on the sheet of his heart with soft ink of supreme love,
May Lord bless all,
Thanks Please