Classic and Contemporary Poetry
AN EVENING WALK IN BENGAL, by REGINALD HEBER Poet's Biography First Line: Our task is done! On gunga's breast Last Line: His peace on earth, -- his hope of heaven! Subject(s): Jungles; Nature; Travel; Journeys; Trips | ||||||||
OUR task is done! on Gunga's breast The sun is sinking down to rest; And, moor'd beneath the tamarind bough, Our bark has found its harbour now. With furled sail and painted side Behold the tiny frigate ride. Upon her deck, 'mid charcoal gleams, The Moslem's savoury supper steams; While all apart beneath the wood, The Hindoo cooks his simpler food. Come walk with me the jungle through. If yonder hunter told us true, Far off in desert dank and rude, The tiger holds its solitude; Nor (taught by recent harm to shun The thunders of the English gun) A dreadful guest but rarely seen, Returns to scare the village green. Come boldly on! no venom'd snake Can shelter in so cool a brake. Child of the Sun! he loves to lie 'Midst Nature's embers, parch'd and dry, Where o'er some tower in ruin laid, The peepul spreads its haunted shade; Or round a tomb his scales to wreathe Fit warder in the gate of Death. Come on! yet pause! Behold us now Beneath the bamboo's arched bough, Where gemming oft that sacred gloom Glows the geranium's scarlet bloom, And winds our path through many a bower Of fragrant tree and giant flower; The Ceiba's crimson pomp display'd O'er the broad plantain's humbler shade, And dusk anana's prickly glade; While o'er the brake, so wild and fair The betel waves his crest in air. With pendent train and rushing wings Aloft the gorgeous peacock springs; And he the bird of hundred dyes, Whose plumes the dames of Ava prize. So rich a shade, so green a sod Our English fairies never trod! Yet who in Indian bowers has stood, But thought on England's "good greenwood!" And bless'd, beneath the palmy shade, Her hazel and her hawthorn glade, And breath'd a prayer, (how oft in vain!) To gaze upon her oaks again? A truce to thought, -- the jackal's cry Resounds like sylvan revelry; And through the trees yon failing ray Will scantly serve to guide our way. Yet mark, as fade the upper skies, Each thicket opes ten thousand eyes. Before, beside us, and above, The fire-fly lights his lamp of love, Retreating, chasing, sinking, soaring, The darkness of the copse exploring. While to this cooler air confest, The broad Dhatura bares her breast, Of fragrant scent and virgin white, A pearl around the locks of night! Still as we pass in soften'd hum Along the breezy alleys come The village song, the horn, the drum. Still as we pass, from bush and briar, The shrill Cigala strikes his lyre; And, what is she whose liquid strain Thrills through yon copse of sugar-cane? I know that soul-entrancing swell, It is -- it must be -- Philomel! Enough, enough, the rustling trees Announce a shower upon the breeze, The flashes of the summer sky Assume a deeper, ruddier dye; Yon lamp that trembles on the stream, From forth our cabin sheds its beam; And we must early sleep to find Betimes the morning's healthy wind. But oh! with thankful hearts confess E'en here there may be happiness; And He, the bounteous Sire, has given His peace on earth, -- his hope of Heaven! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RICHARD, WHAT'S THAT NOISE? by RICHARD HOWARD LOOKING FOR THE GULF MOTEL by RICHARD BLANCO RIVERS INTO SEAS by LYNDA HULL DESTINATIONS by JOSEPHINE JACOBSEN THE ONE WHO WAS DIFFERENT by RANDALL JARRELL THE CONFESSION OF ST. JIM-RALPH by DENIS JOHNSON SESTINA: TRAVEL NOTES by WELDON KEES TO H. B. (WITH A BOOK OF VERSE) by MAURICE BARING EVENING HYMN by REGINALD HEBER |
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