He ceased: the faithful love that moved The prince’s soul each heart approved; Nor could the Vánar chiefs refrain From tender tears that fell like rain. Then Ráma, stirred with joy anew, His arms about his brother threw, And to the grove his course he bent Where Bharat’s hermit days were spent.

In plain words: Everyone admires Bharat's faithful love, and even the monkey chiefs cry tender tears. Rama hugs his brother again. Then he goes to the grove where Bharat had lived simply, like a hermit, while he waited.