Stray Leaves from the Portfolios of Alisander the Seer, Andrew Whaup, and Humphrey Henkeckle Edited by Alexander Rodger |
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THE INDIAN COTTAGER'S SONG.
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 | Stray Leaves from the Portfolios of Alisander the Seer, Andrew Whaup, and Humphrey Henkeckle |  |
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THE INDIAN COTTAGER'S SONG.
FOUNDED UPON ST PIERRE'S TALE OF THE INDIAN COTTAGE, AND ADAPTED TO AN HINDOSTAN AIR.
Though exiled afar from the gay scenes of Delhi,
Although my proud kindred no more shall I see,
I've found a sweet home in this thick-wooded valley,
Beneath the cool shade of the green banyan tree;
'Tis here my loved Paria and I dwell together,
Though shunned by the world, truly blest in each other;
And thou, lovely boy, lisping ‘father’ and ‘mother,’
Art more than the world to my Paria and me.
Although my proud kindred no more shall I see,
I've found a sweet home in this thick-wooded valley,
Beneath the cool shade of the green banyan tree;
'Tis here my loved Paria and I dwell together,
Though shunned by the world, truly blest in each other;
And thou, lovely boy, lisping ‘father’ and ‘mother,’
Art more than the world to my Paria and me.
How dark seemed my fate, when we first met each other,
My own fatal pile ready waiting for me;
While incense I burned on the grave of my mother,
And knew that myself the next victim would be.
'Twas then that my Paria, as one sent from heaven,
To whom a commission of mercy is given,
Shed peace through this bosom, with deep anguish riven,
To new life, to love, and to joy waking me.
My own fatal pile ready waiting for me;
While incense I burned on the grave of my mother,
And knew that myself the next victim would be.
'Twas then that my Paria, as one sent from heaven,
To whom a commission of mercy is given,
Shed peace through this bosom, with deep anguish riven,
To new life, to love, and to joy waking me.
He wooed me with flowers, to express the affection
Which sympathy woke in his bosom for me;
My poor bleeding heart clung to him for protection;
I wept—while I vowed with my Paria to flee.
My mind, too, from darkness and ignorance freeing,
He taught to repose on that mercifnl Being,
The Author of Nature, all-wise and all-seeing,
Whose arm still protecteth my Paria and me.
Which sympathy woke in his bosom for me;
My poor bleeding heart clung to him for protection;
I wept—while I vowed with my Paria to flee.
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He taught to repose on that mercifnl Being,
The Author of Nature, all-wise and all-seeing,
Whose arm still protecteth my Paria and me.
Now safely we dwell in this cot of our rearing,
Contented, industrious, cheerful, and free;
To each other still more endeared and endearing,
While heaven sheds its smiles on my Paria and me.
Our garden supplies us with fruits and with flowers,
The sun marks our time, and our birds sing the hours,
And thou, darling boy, shooting forth thy young powers,
Completest the bliss of my Paria and me.
Contented, industrious, cheerful, and free;
To each other still more endeared and endearing,
While heaven sheds its smiles on my Paria and me.
Our garden supplies us with fruits and with flowers,
The sun marks our time, and our birds sing the hours,
And thou, darling boy, shooting forth thy young powers,
Completest the bliss of my Paria and me.
| Stray Leaves from the Portfolios of Alisander the Seer, Andrew Whaup, and Humphrey Henkeckle | |