Oriental Scenes, Dramatic Sketches and Tales/Stanzas written on the banks of the Ganges
STANZAS.
Upon the Ganges regal stream
The suns bright splendours rest—
And gorgeously the noon-tide beam
Reposes on its breast.
But in a small secluded nook
Beyond the western sea,
There rippling glides a narrow brook
That's dearer far to me.
The loory perches on my hand
Caressing to be fed—
And spreads its wings at my command,
And bends its purple head.
But where the robin—humble guest
Comes flying from the tree,
Which bears its unpretending nest,
Alas! I'd rather be.
The fire-fly flashes through the sky,
A meteor swift and bright,
And all below, around, on high,
Gleams with its emerald light:
Though glory tracks that shooting star,
And bright its splendours shine,
The glowworm's lamp is dearer far
To this sad heart of mine.
Throughout the summer year the flowers
In all the flush of bloom,
Clust'ring around the forest bowers,
Exhale their rich perfume;
The daisy and the primrose pale,
Though scentless they may be,
That gem a far, far distant vale,
Are much more prized by me.
The lotus opes its chalices
Upon the tank's broad lake,
Where India's stately palaces
Their ample mirrors make;
But reckless of each tower and dome,
The splendid and the grand—
I languish for a cottage home
Within my native land.