Then on! then on! where duty leads.
My course be onward still,
O'er broad Hindostan's sultry mead,
O'er bleak Almorah's hill.
That course, nor Delhi's kingly gates,
Nor wild Malwah detain;
For sweet the bliss us both awaits
By yonder western main.
Thy towers, Bombay, gleam bright, they say.
Across the dark blue sea;
But ne'er were hearts so light and gay
As then shall meet in thee!
An Evening Walk in Bengal.
Our task is done! on Gunga's breast
The sun is sinking down to rest;
And, moored beneath the tamarind bough.
Our bark has found its harbour now.
With furled sail and painted side
Behold the tiny frigate ride.
Upon her deck, 'mid charcoal gleams.
The Moslem's savoury supper steams;
While all apart, beneath the wood.
The Hindoo cooks his simpler food.
Come walk with me the jungle through.
If yonder hunter told us true.
Far off, in desert dank and rude.
The tiger holds its solitude;
Nor (taught by recent harm to shun
The thunders of the English gun)
A dreadful guest but rarely seen.
Returns to scare the village green.