हृदय घाउ मेरे पीर रघुबीरै। पाइ सजीवन, जागि कहत यों प्रेमपुलकि बिसराय सरीरै॥ १ ॥ मोहि कहा बूझत पुनि पुनि, जैसे पाठ-अरथ-चरचा कीरै। सोभा-सुख, छति-लाहु भूपकहँ, केवल कांति-मोल हीरै॥ २ ॥ तुलसी सुनि सौमित्रि-बचन सब धरि न सकत धीरौ धीरै। उपमा राम-लषनकी प्रीतिकी क्यों दीजै खीरै-नीरै॥ ३ ॥
After receiving the life-restoring herb and awakening, Lakṣmaṇa—thrilled with love and forgetful of his body—said, “The wound is in my heart, but its pain belongs to Raghubīra. (1) Why ask me again and again, like someone discussing the meaning of a lesson with a parrot? A diamond possesses only its brilliance and price; the splendor, pleasure, loss, or gain belongs to the king who owns it. (2) Tulsī says that on hearing Saumitri's words, even the most steadfast could not maintain their composure. How can the love between Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa be compared even to milk and water?” (3)