With peaceful trophies deck thy throne, nor bare
Thy conquering sword, till Justice ask the war:
Justice alone can consecrate renown,
Her's are the brightest rays in Glory's crown;
All else nor eloquence nor song sublime
Can screen from curse, or sanctify from crime.
Let gentler arts awake at thy behest,
And science sooth the Hindoo's mournful breast.
In vain has Nature shed her gifts around,
For eye or ear, soft bloom or tuneful sound;
Fruits of all hues on every grove display'd,
And pour'd profuse the tamarind's gorgeous shade.
What joy to him can song or shade afford,
Outcast so abject, by himself abhorr'd?
While chain'd to dust, half struggling, half resign'd,
Sinks to her fate the heaven-descended Mind,
Disrobed of all her lineaments sublime,
The daring hope whose glance outmeasured time,
Warm passions to the voice of Rapture strung,
And conscious thought, that told her whence she
sprung.
At Brahma's stern decree, as ages roll,
New shapes of clay await th' immortal soul;
Darkling condemn'd in forms obscene (a) to prowl,
And swell the midnight melancholy howl.
Be thine the task, his drooping eye to cheer,
And elevate his hopes beyond this sphere,
(a) The Hindus of the lowest class firmly believe them. selves to be of the same species as the jackals; and are taught, that through eternal transmigrations they shall never rise higher than those animals.
To brighter heavens than proud Sumeeru (a) owns,
Though girt with Indra and his burning thrones.
Then shall he recognise the beams of day,
And fling at once the four-fold chain (b) away;
Through every limb a sudden life shall start,
And sudden pulses spring around his heart;
Then all the deaden'd energies shall rise,
And vindicate their title to the skies.
Be these thy trophies, Queen of many Isles ! On these high Heaven shall shed indulgent smiles. First by thy guardian voice to India led,
Shall Truth divine her tearless victories spread ; Wide and more wide the heaven-born light shall stream,
New realms from thee shall catch the blissful theme,
Unwonted warmth the soften'd savage feel,
Strange chiefs admire, and turban'd warriors kneel,
The prostrate East submit her jewell'd pride,
And swarthy kings adore the Crucified.
Famed Ava's walls MESSIAH's name shall own, Where haughty splendour guards the Birman throne.
Thy hills, Tibet, shall hear, and Ceylon's bowers,
And snow-white waves that circle Pekin's towers, (c)
Where, sheathed in sullen pomp, the Tartar lord
Forgetful slumbers o'er his idle sword:
O'er all the plains, where barbarous hordes afar
On panting steeds pursue the roving war,
Soft notes of joy th' eternal gloom shall cheer,
And smooth the terrors of the arctic year:
(a) Sumeeru is the mountain on which Indra's heaven is placed.
(b) In allusion to the four castes. (c) The White River.
Till from the blazing line to polar snows,
Through varying realms, one tide of blessing flows.
Then shall thy breath, celestial Peace, unbind
The frozen heart, and mingle mind with mind;
With sudden youth shall slumb'ring Science start,
And call to life each long-forgotten art,
Retrace her ancient paths, or new explore,
And breathe to wond'ring worlds her mystic lore.
Yes, it shall come! E'en now my eyes behold, In distant view, the wish'd-for age unfold. Lo, o'er the shadowy days that roll between, A wand'ring gleam foretells th' ascending scene! Oh, doom'd victorious from thy wounds to rise, Dejected INDIA, lift thy downcast eyes,
And mark the hour, whose faithful steps for thee Through Time's press'd ranks bring on the jubilee !
Roll back, ye crowded years, your thick array, Greet the glad hour, and give the triumph way. Hail! First and Greatest, inexpressive name, Substantial Wisdom, God with God the same! Oh Light, which shades of fiercest glory veil, Oh human Essence, mix'd with Godhead, hail! Powers, Princedoms, Virtues, wait thy sovereign call,
And but for Thee exists this breathing all.
Then shake thy heavens, thou Mightiest, and de
While Truth and Peace thy radiant march attend.
With wearied hopes thy thousand empires groan,
Our aching eyes demand thy promised throne.
Oh cheer the realms from life and sunshine far!
Oh plant in Eastern skies thy sevenfold star!
Then, while transported ASIA kneels around,
With ancient arts and long-lost glories crown'd,
Some happier Bard, on Ganges' margin laid,
Where playful bamboos weave their fretted shade,
Shall to the strings a loftier tone impart,
And pour in rapturous verse his flowing heart.
Stamp'd in immortal light on future days,
Through all the strain his country's joys shall blaze ;
The Sanscreet song be warm'd with heavenly fires,
And themes divine awake from Indian lyres.
SECOND PSALM, BY MR R. GRANT, M.P.
WHEREFORE do the heathen wage
War against the King of kings,
Whence the people's madd'ning rage
Fraught with vain imaginings?
Haughty chiefs and rulers proud
Forth in banded fury run,
Braving, with defiance loud,
God, and his anointed Son!
"Let us break these bands in twain,
Let us cast their cords away;"
But the Highest, with disdain,
Sees and mocks their vain array.
"High on Zion I prepare,
(Thus he speaks,) a regal throne,
Thou, my Prince, my chosen heir,
Rise and claim it as thine own."
"Son of God, with God the same,
Enter Thine imperial dome;
Lo! the shaking heavens proclaim,
Mightiest Lord! thy kingdom come.
"Pomp or state dost thou demand?
In thy Father's glory shine;
Dost thou ask for high command?
Lo! the universe is thine."
Ye who spurn his righteous sway,
Yet, oh yet, he spares your breath;
Yet his hand, averse to slay,
Balances the bolt of death.
Ere that dreadful bolt descends
Haste before his feet to fall,
Kiss the sceptre he extends
And adore him Lord of all.
ON THE DEATH OF HIS ELDEST SON,
BY THE RIGHT HON. GEORGE CANNING.
THOUGH short thy span, God's unimpeach'd de
Which made that shorten'd span one long disease;
Yet, merciful in chastening, gave thee scope
For mild redeeming virtues, faith and hope,
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