Book, Chapter

 1   1, 1|       empire in the happy days of yore,~Loved of men in fair Ayodhya,
 2   1, 4|        sprung from holy saints of yore,~Markandeya in his glory,
 3   1, 4|        sprung from holy saints of yore!~And my evil fates are vanquished
 4   3, 6|      penance was the anchorite of yore,~Blest with more than mortal
 5   4, 2|           guard thy kingdom as of yore with matchless skill,~And
 6   5, 4|        tells the stirring tale of yore!~With the winter's ample
 7   5, 4|       spurning pleasures loved of yore,~Spends his winter day in
 8   8, 3| remembrance cherish Sita loved of yore,~Nursing in his hero-bosom
 9   9, 6|       hermit who Ayodhya ruled of yore,~Crossing India's streams
10  10, 3|           gift of Gods in days of yore,~Javelin of flaming splendour,
11  11, 3|    penance Sita, lived in days of yore,~And by gloomy Godavari,
12  11, 4|        chanting glorious deeds of yore,~Bharat came,--his elder'
13  11, 5|     Katyayana, Vamadeva priest of yore,~Jabali and wise Vijaya
14  11, 5|          was enthroned in days of yore,~So was Rama consecrated