Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1834.pdf/42

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"Bold as the falcon that faces the sun, Wild as the streams when in torrents they run, Fierce as the flame when the jungle’s on fire, Are the chieftains who call on the day-star as Sire. Since the Moghuls were driven from stately Mandoo,† And left but their ruins their reign to renew, Those hills have paid tribute to no foreign lord, And their children have kept what they won by the sword. Yet downcast each forehead, a sullen dismay At Oudeypoor reigns in the Durbar‡ to-day, For bootless the struggle, and weary the fight, Which Adjeit Sing pictures with frown black as night:— "Oh fatal the hour, when Makundra's dark pass§ Saw the blood of our bravest sink red in the grass; And the gifts which were destined to honour the bride, By the contest of rivals in crimson were dyed. Where are the warriors who once wont to stand The glory and rampart of Rajahstan’s land? Ask of the hills for their young and their brave, They will point to the valleys beneath as their grave.‖ The mother sits pale by her desolate hearth, And weeps o’er the infant an orphan from birth; While the eldest boy watches the dust on the spear, Which as yet his weak hand is unable to rear. The fruit is ungathered, the harvest unsown, And the vulture exults o’er our fields as his own: