Poems by Sir Alfred C. Lyall Revised and Slightly Enlarged from "Verses Written in India" (Sixth Edition) |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
I. |
II. | II.—Badminton. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIII. |
XXIV. |
XXV. |
XXVI. |
Poems by Sir Alfred C. Lyall | ||
90
II.—Badminton.
Hardly a shot from the gate we stormed,
Under the Moree battlement's shade;
Close to the glacis our game was formed,
There had the fight been, and there we played.
Under the Moree battlement's shade;
Close to the glacis our game was formed,
There had the fight been, and there we played.
91
Lightly the demoiselles tittered and leapt,
Merrily capered the players all;
North, was the garden where Nicholson slept,
South, was the sweep of a battered wall.
Merrily capered the players all;
North, was the garden where Nicholson slept,
South, was the sweep of a battered wall.
Near me a Musalmán, civil and mild,
Watched as the shuttlecocks rose and fell;
And he said, as he counted his beads and smiled,
“God smite their souls to the depths of hell.”
Watched as the shuttlecocks rose and fell;
And he said, as he counted his beads and smiled,
“God smite their souls to the depths of hell.”
Poems by Sir Alfred C. Lyall | ||