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