Page:Hand in hand; (IA handinhand00kipl).pdf/88



HERE Hugli flows, her city’s banks beside White domes and towers rise on a glittering plain: The strong, bright sailing-ships at anchor ride, Waiting to float their cargoes to the main, Where Hugli flows.

Brown waters, treacherous currents whirling by The painted fishing-boats haste to and fro, Brown sails, brown sailors, crimsoned curiously, Under the all-transfiguring sunset glow, Where Hugli flows,

Where Hugli flows, our English eyes are weary Our hearts are sometimes very far away. Needs must, that exile should be long and dreary How slow the hours, how lagging long the day, Where Hugli flows.

Yet, years hence, when the steamer’s screw shall beat The homeward track, for us without return, Our bitter bread, by custom almost sweet, We shall look back, perhaps through tears that burn, Where Hugli flows.