SONNETS [30-41]

On The Ochterlony Monument

[Dedicated as usual to G. D. Bysack]

Lo! raised upon this vast aerial height

This realm of air-free uncontrolled I stand:

Behold! beneath me how the grovelling band

Of this poor earth --like emmets whom the sight

Can scarce perceie-are passing sadly by!

But what are they? --poor things of mortal clay!

Thus pomp --thus powr --thus glory flit away

Like the bright meteor glances of the sky

When the black clouds do veil it. Round me now

The boundless sea of air in calm profound

Is sleeping gently --and the silent queen

Of swarth complexioned night pale and serene.

Is rising brightly! how sweetly round

Falls the bright silver light of her calm brow!

(Kidderpore, 1842)

Poem no: 30

Evening In Saturn

[A Sonnet in Blank Verse dedicated to a pigmy]

PREFACE

Reader! who ever publishes a sonnet with a preface? I hear or fancy that I hear you say none! Well! I publish I am an enemy to what men call "custom" But be that as it is I publish my sonnet with a preface; I have to teach the world something new. Don't get offended. Befold! I have written a sonnet in Blankverse. What a rare experiment! Believe me Reader the Muse appeared  not to recent this "breach of etiquette" towards her. O Joy! O Glory! O Happiness! that I have done successfully what none dared do before me! Excuse this short outbreak of impassioned exclamation. I have laid my scene in the planet Saturn, because I despise everything earthly.

A beauteous veil of burning gold did hide.

The Day-god's brow resplendent: and the sky

Like to canvass on its bosom wore

Sweet forms, the pencil of meek Even drew!--

Now many a bird --not kokils --Philomels--

But of diviner kinds --began to sing

So sweet a dirge above the bier of day.

As might have made, ye, sons of this poor earth!

Sigh for a death that is so fondly mourned.

Now from the west rose sis moons hand in hand--

Like a soft band of beauties --blushing --fair--

Oh! how their beams did brighten all the scene;

Their lights fell on the lakes and murmuring rivers,

Like silver mantles:-- Here the Sonnet endeth!

Poem no: 31

Composed During A Morning Walk

I love the beauteous infancy of day,

The garlands that around its temples shine;

I love to hear the tunefull matin lay.

Of the sweet kokil perched upon the pine;

I love to see you streamlet gaily run

And blush like maiden Beauty meek and fair

When the bright beams of you refulgent sun

Crowd on her trembling bosom pure and clear;

I love to see the bee from flow'r to flow'r

Sucking the sweets to him they smiling yield.

I love to hear the breezes in the bower

Singing melodious or along the field;

All these I love and Oh! in these I find

A balm to soothe the fever of my mind!

Poem no: 32

Poem No 29

Poem No 29

Oft like a sad imprisoned bird I sigh

To leave this land though mine own land it be;

Its green robed meadas --gay flowers and cloudless sky

Though passing fair have but few charms for me.

For I have dreamed of climes more bright and free

Where virtue dwells and heaven born liberty

Makes even the lowest happy; --where the eye

Doth sicken not to see man bend the knee

To sordid interest: --climes where science thrives

And genius doth recetve her guerdon meet;

Where man in all his truest glory lives

And Nature's face is exquisitely sweet

For those fair climes I have the impatient sigh,

There let me live and there let me die.

(--Kidderpore, 1842)

Sonnet To Futurity

Sonnet To Futurity

Oh! how my heart doth shrink --while on the sky,

Futurity! I mark the gathering gloom

Nursing the dreadful tempest in its womb--

The tempest rude of woe and misery!

Though Fancy, with her ever -pleasing hue

Lends a sweet charm to thy dim, distant scene--

Yet oh! -When the dark mists that lie between

There and the present --vanish from the view

And sober Reason --like the vivid light,

That bursting from the storm fiend's angry eye,

Paints to the mariner's affrightet sight

The yawining waves --their dreadful revelry--

Divests thee or thy fairy colours bright--

What scenes appaling in thee I desirery!

(19th August 1842)

Poem no: 28

Poem No 24, 25, 26, 27

Poem No 24


Dear Sir
"Lend me your Rollin" --how oft have I said,
Yet you do lend it not: --But you evade
Me, with a silly Banee like reply--
I do not this expect from thee and why?
Because I love respect and honour thee,
And think you are a main of honesty?--
There is a lad-- his name I will not tell,
Who loves me not tho I do love him well--
Unask'd that wanted me this book to lend
But has he done it? --no! --he is a friend
That rather would insult. than honor me--
I am dear sir, your servant M. S. D.
                                                  
                                                   -- kidderpore
                                       The poets' Residence
                                           6th April, 1842



Poem No 25


I thought I shall be able,
(Making thy lap my table)
To write that not with ease:--
But ha! Your shaking
Gave my pen a quaking--
Rudeness ne'er saw I like this--
                                           --Hindu College 


 
Poem No 26


Gour excuse me that in verse
My Muse desireth to rehearse
The Gratitude she oweth thee
I thank you and most heartily
The motion that my friend thou art
Makes me reject the flatter's art
Here is your book--my thanks too here
That as it was and these sincere.
                                                   --Kidderpore

Poem No 27

I

If aught beneath boundless sky

There be no brighten this sad brow

Or make me once forget sigh,

Dear maid! it is must be --thou!

II

Those eyes where fond affection beams

Oft like the moon impart

The softest hues to tinge my dreams

And light my darkened heart:--

III

Yes, I have know and deeply felt

Heart rending grief and woe

Which by the hand of fate and dealt

To all who dwell below

IV

Tho few my years --Yet they have taught,--

Aye sadly taught --that here,

The hours which life's endearments fraught"

Will never more appear!--

V

My childhood look dim as a cloud

Enthroned upon a distant sky.

The mists of by gone years enshroud

The fair scenes that behind my lie.

VI

I look before the dreary scene

Shows visions grim of misery

It tells me, what I have once been,

I never never more can be!

                                                           --Calcutta 5th July, 1842

The Parting

The Parting

I heard the gun, Time's warning tongue

In accents rough, loud and strong

Declare the birth of Day.

I looked around and saw dark night

Retiring at the approach of light

To regions far away:

The night cloud neath Aurora's eye

Were melting in the half lit-sky.

The moon still lingered there,

The tuneful minstrels of the grove

Were chanting sweet their lays of love

To the infant morning fair

I rose but oh! methought my heart

Would break from that loved one to part;

Nor would let me go

The light now entered hold the room,

And drove away the friendly gloom

Nights' remnant sole below

I kissed her; and with many a sigh

And tears descending from her eye

She softly bade me "adieu"!

O with an aching heart and brain

I liik my way thro fields and glen

Besprinkled with the dew.

Poem no: 23

Song Of Ulysses

Song Of Ulysses

Have ye not seen my Penelop

That chaste, that faithful maid?

Have ye not seen my penelope,

That chaste that faithful maid?

Look there, O! that redcheeked one

Whose Winning beauties ne'er fade,

Is my chaste penelope!

As constant as the gentle doves

And faithful too as they

How fondly she returned my love,

When I was far away!

O Penelope! O Penelope! 

My chaste my Faithful maid,

Lo! I shall love nor love thee less

Tho life decay and fade.

My faithful Penelope!

Poem no: 22

Verses-2

Verses-2 

I have a heart, but that is far away

To where enthroned within a palace bright

Sits, fair as the infancy of Day,

Or the sweet Sun when bursting from the Night

He sits upon his Orient purple throne!

There, with devoted heart above alone

The lovely object, who doth to my eyes

Appear the sweetest neath these azure skies!

Poem no: 21

These Verses are written at the request of Gourdass the author's friend but they are not intended to be addressed to any one.

The Slave

The Slave

 [written to illustrate a picture]

"There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart!"
                                                   --Cowper

I

He sadly sits upon the bark,

His chained hands are on his face.

What bitter thoughts, what visions dark
Of misery and wretchedness
Now like a furious tempest roll
Within his dark, bewilder'd soul!

II
The ship that wafts him far away
From country, home, Love 's sunny world
Sits proudly on the Ocean spray
Her giant wings are all unfurl'd;
Yes, soon she 'll walk the foaming brine
And sever thee from all that's thine!

III
Far, far beyond the rolling wave,
Thou soon shalt press a sod unknown
Or slumber in a nameless grave,
Sad unlamented all alone
Without a smoothing sigh, a tear
Shed by Affection on thy bier!

IV
No more, no more, oh! never more,
Beneath the Cocoa's spreading shade
Or by the solitary shore,
Or o'er the flow'r-- enamel' d glade.
Shalt thou in pensive musing mood
Court the soft charms of solitude!

V
Or with thy lov'd and loving bride,
At even the lover's sacred hour
Stand by the mossy fountain-side,
Or sit with the blushing bower,
To mark the stars peep out the skies
Or gaze upon her brighter eyes.

VI
Or swiftly paddle thy canoe
Gay chanting thy wild native song.
On the Lake 's breast unruffled, blue,
Or the wide foaming bring along.

*      *      *      *      *      *

 

Poem no: 20

Poem No 19

Poem No 19

I loved a maid, a blue eyed maid

As fair a maid can e'er be, O.

But she, oft with disdain repaid

My fondness and affection O.

For her I sighed and e'er shall sigh

Tho she shall ne'er be mine, O.

For this sad heart's starless sky

None but herself can light, O.

Poem no: 19

The Heavenly Ball

The Heavenly Ball

A Fragment

[Dedication to G.D. Bysak. Esqr.]

I intended to make this a long poem, My Gour!

But I find me too idle to do it.

But unfinished as it is, yet to you, My Gour!

I do dedicate, so you must take it.

Tho short, oh! too short is the time we've My Gour!

To meet on this side of the tomb, killing thought!

Yet, Friendship and Love shall be e'er ours My Gour!

Where 'er may Fate lend me thou shan't be forgot!

The night was fair the heavenly hall

Was thronged with stars all soft and bright

'Twas plain some spirit gave a ball.

For never never, mortal sight

Behold a more splendid scene!

The moon was on the chair, Fair Queen!

A halo rainbow hued as fair

As that which Future seems to wear.

When seen thro Fancy 's magic glass,

Encircled 'round her while her glance

Made e'en Darkness (oh! so sweet it was!)

Put on a lovelier countenance!--

*      *      *      *

Poem no: 18

Lines

Lines

I

The menial through that crowds the Indian shore,

Braves the fierce gale to try their helpless oar,

From such men, tis true, muse disdains renown.

Thou must be thy prey when to beaty 's own.

II

Go, fortunate lines! and tell the maid

That tis for her I die! 

O! that some tears when I am dead,

Descending from that lovely eye,

May hallow my untimely bier

And soothe my spirit lingering there!

III

I met thee, tears came in my eye,

Oh! they were soothing tears.

The tribute of sad memory,

Dear Friend! to parted years!

Poem no: 16

Poem No 16

Poem No 16

[ A Tale ]

Who has heard-- while Time was young--

A race there was-by poets sung--

Called Pygmies--little things--

Who has not heard --dark cruel War.

Before the bloody shrine of Mar

Did sacrifice these beings?--

And like the Storm- fiend's dreadful breath

Did hurl them all to hell and Death.

Poem no: 16

Poem No 15

[The following little poem is dedicated to G. D Bysack Esqr as a slight but sincere token of respect for his learning admiration for his amiable qualities. And esteem for his valuable friendship; By the author M. S. Dutt.]

Poem No 15

1

I am like the Earth revolving

Ever round the self same Sun, Boy,

Seasons both of Joy and Sorrow,

I have, like her, as I run, Boy.

2

O! her eyes soft, tender beamings,

And her sweet bewitching smile, Boy,

Like enchantment's potent spell do

Call for the gayer, brighter springs, Boy.

3

But when frowns like lowering clouds, do

Over cast her sunny brow, Boy

Then oh! then the freezing winter

Of dark sorrow chills my head, Boy.

4

Now, fond hope buds blossoms sweetly

Vernal thoughts do fill my head, Boy.

Now, dark disappointment dreadful

All my joys and hopes doth blast, Boy.

5

Thus I'm like the Earth, revolving

Ever round the self same Sun Boy,

Seasons both of Joy and Sorrow,

Like her, I have, as I run, Boy!

Poem no: 15

Poem No 14

Poem No 14

I

My thoughts my dreams are all of thee

Though absent still thou seemest near,

Thine image everywhere I see--

Thy voice in every gale I hear.

II

When softly o'er the evening sky,

The stars seem twinkling one by one,

The star of eve arrests my eye,

As if it hit the sky alone.

III

So like its tranquil lustre seems

The light of that soft eye of thine--

The star of hope, whose cheering beams

Upon my heart so sweetly shine.

IV

The lake, whose placid waters be

Calm and unruffled by the wind

Gives a fair image to mine eye

Of thy serenely pensive mind.

V

The streams that wander glad and free

And make sweet music as they flow

Remind me of thine hours of glee--

Thy playful arts to banish woe.

VI

The soul is imaged by the hills,

That stand unshaken by the blast;

And hence the hope my bosom fills,

Thou wilt be constant to the last.

VII

Whate'er in this fair earth I see

'Mong Nature's form thats' pure and bright

Reminds me ever, love, of thee

And brings thine image to my sight.

Poem no: 14

Poem No 13

Poem No 13


"---Theres the true felicity

If there be any in the earth!---"

I

"Oh happiness! Oh! Where thou art?"

Exclim'd I with an aching heart.

A voice instant replied to me--

"In her's the true felicity.

If any there be in the earth!"

II

Then give me what I seek and sought

Refuse-- sweet one! --refuse it not!

For Oh! I know-- I know in thee

"There is the true felicity.

If any there be in the earth!"

III

T' embrace thee and to share thy kiss,

Is surely th'most perfect bliss;--

Who can deny sweet! this to be

"The true -- the real felicity,

If there be any in this earth!"

Poem no: 13

To Another Lady

To Another Lady

Oh! deign to give a thought on me,

When these sad lines do meet thine eye.

Think then on him who oft for thee.

Sweet one! doth unregarded sigh!

Poem no: 12

To A Lady

To A Lady

I

Oh! That thou wert as fair within

As thy ang'lic outward is,

Then of what value hast thou been

In this earth a perfect bliss!

II

Lady! tho beautiful thou art

Tho Nature hath gi'en thee ev'ry grace

Yet, oh! how cruel is thy heart.

Thou art deaf to the voice of distress.

Poem no: 11

On Granting 'Leave Of Absence' To My Muse [Stanzas]

On Granting 'Leave Of Absence' To My Muse [Stanzas]

1

Months, years are gone away,

Since I my court did pay to thee;

Since never I have passed a day,

Beloved Muse! But 't was with thee;

2

But now go to "Cape of Good Hope"

Or "Singapore" or where you will.

For thou art Lady! quite worn out

And let me for a While be still!

3

Needst thou a testimonial

Of my affection Love! for thee?

This single fact ma' am! will suffice

That all I sacrifice for thee!

4

Farewell! But oh! remember me,

Return before our 'Monthlies all.

The Gleaner--Blossom--'Commet' tempt

Me to scribble for them all.

Poem No: 10

I lov'd Thee

I lov'd Thee

I

I lov'd thee- how oft on thy soft beaming eye,

I've gaz'd with deep rapture and heart swelling high!

There was life in thy smile- there was death in thy frown;

Thy voice it was sweeter than melody's own!

II

I lov'd thee-- how oft Hope sooth'd me to dreams

Of paths strewn with flow'rs- of days gilt with beams;

'Twas bliss when on Future's horizon afar

She shrin'd thee in glory-- my Destiny's star!

III

But 'tis past-- like a vision of ethered ray

Thou camest-- but to dazzle and vanish away--

A seraph forth straying from Heaven's bright bow'r

In sun-shine and glory to bless-- but an hour!

IV

But 'tis past-- what is past?-- Can it be that fond breast

Is now cold as the sod it hath silently prest--

Can it be that those eyes-- so soft and so bright--

Are now quench'd in the grave's eternal-dark night!

V

How fain would I dream 'tis delusive and vain--

How fain would I dream thou wilt come back again--

But Reality lends all a tongue and a tone.

To break the sweet spell by found Fancy thus thrown!

Poem no: 09

Poem no: 08

Poem no: 08

I

I sigh for Albion's distant shore,

Its valleys green, its mountains high;

Tho' friends, relations, I have none

In that far clime, yet, oh! I sigh

To cross the vast Atlantic wave

For glory, or a nameless grave!

II

My father, mother, sister, all

Do love me and I love them too,

Yet oft the tear-drops rush and fall

From sad eyes like winter's dew.

And, oh! I sigh for Albion's stand

As if she were my native-land!

--Kidderpore, 1841

An Acrostic

An Acrostic

G-o! simple lay! and tell that fair,

O-h! 'tis for her, her lover dies!

U-ndone by her, his heart sincere

R-esolves itself thus into sighs!

D-ear cruel maid!tho ne'er doth she

O-nce think, for her thus breaks my heart,

S-ad fate! oh! yet must I love thee,

B-e thou unkind, till life doth part!

Y-oung Peri of the East' thou maid divine!

S-weet one! oh! let me not thus die:

A-ll kind, to these fond arms of mine

C-ome! and let me no longer sigh! 

Poem no: 07

To G.D.B

To G.D.B

Far from us thou 'rt sitting like a Star

That tears himself to shine and hue afar

From his companions: oh! here come again!

The space you filled doth now vacant remain!

thou wandering star! No longer thus stray

From they own head, mid flocks unknown away.

Poem no: 06

Epistle In Verse II

 Epistle In Verse II

Sir,
Your muse, I know, is a too powerful dame,
No censure lowers, no praise exults her name;
For like the Lady, who hath e'er seen
No man but her own lord, nor e'er been
To any place but lives for age confined
In her own closet she does hear in mind
That she is great; why will she then require
Praise from true Judges, or their censure care?

Your obedient servant,

10th June, 1841

Hindu College
Poem no: 05

Epistle In Verse

(To a Gentleman)

I

                  

Dear Sir,

Plunged in the fethomiess abyss of dark despair,

Friendless I drop oft many a silent tear;

I stretch my hands for succour all around;

But oh! for me no succour can be found!

If thou, Dear Sir! dost kindly deign to save

A helpless wret h from an untimely grave,

Do then; if not, of pity plead his cause,

And listen to obey her sacred laws.

I remain, Dear Sir,

Your most humble, Devoted & obedient servant

Kidderpore

20th may, 1841

Poem no: 04

The Fortunate Rainy Day

[Written at the request of my beloved friend, Babu Gour Doss Bysack Mohashoy]

The Fortunate Rainy Day

Lo! sweet was the hour;-- and a balmy shower of rain,

Revived th' drooping beauties of each flowery mead and plain;

Like tyrants, bereft of their power, as they fly.

The pround scorching sun was retiring in the sky--

And tuneful Zephyr warbled his heart entrancing song,

And sighed, as he wandered yon green groves among,

When gladly I met her beneath yon Almond tree,

(Oh sacred as Elysium be its happy shades to me!)

There I kissed and embraced her;-- and oh!-- who can tell

What passions tumultuous did in my bosom swell!

What tears joy-speaking rushed forth from my eyes!

They bathed her snowy hands-- while I warmed them with my sighs!

--28th March 1841

Kidderpore

Poem no: 03

They Ask Me Why I Fade And Pine

They Ask Me Why I Fade And Pine

They ask me why I fade and pine,

And seem oppressed with woe?

They say what care now can be mine,

To cloud my youthful brow?

Alas!-- they know not that I die

Of pains that none can heal,

Save those dear smiles and that blue eye

Who soon as Lethe's murmuring rill.

Can lull my woest' eternal sleep,

And make me cease to sigh and weep!

That cruel-- that relentless maid,

Of heart more hard than stone,

Cares not, why thus I pine and fade,

And why oft thus I moan!

When fondly turn my ravished eyes

Of her sweet cheeks to gaze,

And life embittering frowns arise

And cloud that heavenly face!

O! thus abandoned to despair

I've naught but grief for me;

My life a wilderness appear

Overgrown with misery!

--28th March 1841

Kidderpore

Poem no: 02

My Fond Sweet Blue-Eyed Maid

My Fond Sweet Blue-Eyed Maid

I

Though in a distant clime I roam,

By Fate exiled from thee;

And tho' the sweets of native home

Are thus estranged from me;

Yet oh! e'en in my gloomiest hour

I've a joy that can console

Me, and calm the storms of grief that lour

The sun-shine of my soul!

II

Fond Fancy, sweet enchantress,

Oft with her visions gay,

Does chase my sad heart's dreariness

And banish it far away;

I dream of that e'er-lovely scene

Where in life's morning hour,

We fondly loitered on the green And cull'd each rosy flower.

III

I dream-- I steal the silent kiss,

Tho' tremble while I take,

Like am'rous moon-beams that embrace

And kiss you silvery lake:

I dream-- I see those azure eyes

Dance star-like in that face,

That face the better Paradise,

Where Ang'ls sigh t' pass days!

IV

When wildly comes the tempest on,

When Patience with a sigh

The dreadful thunder-storm does shun

And leave me 'lone to die;

I dream-- and see my bonny maid;

Sudden smiling in my heart;

And oh! she revives my spirit dead

And bids the tempest part!

V

I smile-- I gin to live again

And wonder that I live;

O' tho' flung in an ocean of pain

I have moments to cease to grieve!

Dear one! tho Time shall run his race,

Tho' life decay and fade,

Yet I shall love, nor love thee less,

"My fond sweet blue-eyed maid!"

-28th March 1841

Kidderpore
Poem no: 01