47Canto XLVII. The Citizens' Return.The people, when the morn shone fair, Arose to find no Ráma there. Then fear and numbing grief subdued The senses of the multitude. The woe-born tears were running fast As all around their eyes they cast, And sadly looked, but found no trace Of Ráma, searching every place. Bereft of Ráma good and wise, With drooping cheer and weeping eyes, Each woe-distracted sage gave vent To sorrow in his wild lament: “Woe worth the sleep that stole our sense With its beguiling influence, That now we look in vain for him Of the broad chest and