Page:The Bengali Book of English Verse.djvu/103

Rh  Roll, Gunga, roll in all thy pride, Thy hallow'd groves among! Glorious art thou in every mood, Thou boast of India's widowhood, Thou theme of every song! Blent with the murmurs of thy tide The records of far ages lie, And live, for thou canst never die.

 

Sleep, perturbed spirit, sleep Within earth's quiet breast! Thy task of vengeance now is o'er; Rest, ruthless conqueror, rest!

As speeds the whirlwind o'er the wave With its resistless might, The torrent of thy wrath has roll'd Upon the field of fight.

The world aghast has quaked beneath The terrors of thy frown; Thy footsteps, they have trampled o'er The royal neck and crown.

The burning sand, the fertile vale, Have groan'd beneath thy tread; Thy hardy legions follow'd still, Where thou undaunted led.

From Kabool's rock, thy crimson flag Stream'd proudly to the air; Beneath were martial shields and spears, And sabres red and bare.

