Poems by Sir Alfred C. Lyall Revised and Slightly Enlarged from "Verses Written in India" (Sixth Edition) |
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| II. | II.—Badminton. |
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 | 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 | |