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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455722" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Lascar</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Another day, Ah! me, a day<br>"Of dreary Sorrow is begun!<br>"And still I loath the temper'd ray,<br>"And still I hate the sickly Sun!<br>"Far from my Native Indian shore,<br>"I hear our wretched race deplore;<br>"I mark the smile of taunting Scorn,<br>"And curse the hour, when I was born!<br>"I weep, but no one gently tries<br>"To stop my tear, or check my sighs;<br>"For, while my heart beats mournfully,<br>"Dear Indian home, I sigh for Thee!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Since, gaudy Sun! I see no more<br>"Thy hottest glory gild the day;<br>"Since, sever'd from my burning shore,<br>"I waste the vapid hours away;<br>"O! darkness come ! come, deepest gloom!<br>"Shroud the young Summer's op'ning bloom;<br>"Burn, temper'd Orb, with fiercer beams<br>"This northern world ! and drink the streams<br>"That thro' the fertile vallies glide<br>"To bathe the feasted Fiends of Pride!<br>"Or, hence, broad Sun ! extinguish'd be!<br>"For endless night encircles Me!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"What is, to me, the City gay?<br>"And what, the board profusely spread?<br>"I have no home, no rich array,<br>"No spicy feast, no downy bed!<br>"I, with the dogs am doom'd to eat,<br>"To perish in the peopled street,<br>"To drink the tear of deep despair;<br>"The scoff and scorn of fools to bear!<br>"I sleep upon a bed of stone,<br>"I pace the meadows, wild--alone!<br>"And if I curse my fate severe,<br>"Some Christian Savage mocks my tear!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Shut out the Sun, O! pitying Night!<br>"Make the wide world my silent tomb!<br>"O'ershade this northern, sickly light,<br>"And shroud me, in eternal gloom!<br>"My Indian plains, now smiling glow,<br>"There stands my Parent's hovel low,<br>"And there the tow'ring aloes rise<br>"And fling their perfumes to the skies!<br>"There the broad palm Trees covert lend,<br>"There Sun and Shade delicious blend;<br>"But here, amid the blunted ray,<br>"Cold shadows hourly cross my way!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Was it for this, that on the main<br>"I met the tempest fierce and strong,<br>"And steering o'er the liquid plain,<br>"Still onward, press'd the waves among?<br>"Was it for this, the LASCAR brave<br>"Toil'd, like a wretched Indian Slave;<br>"Preserv'd your treasures by his toil,<br>"And sigh'd to greet this fertile soil?<br>"Was it for this, to beg, to die,<br>"Where plenty smiles, and where the Sky<br>"Sheds cooling airs; while fev'rish pain,<br>"Maddens the famish'd LASCAR'S brain?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Oft, I the stately Camel led,<br>"And sung the short-hour'd night away;<br>"And oft, upon the top-mast's head,<br>"Hail'd the red Eye of coming day.<br>"The Tanyan's back my mother bore;<br>"And oft the wavy Ganges' roar<br>"Lull'd her to rest, as on she past--<br>"'Mid the hot sands and burning blast!<br>"And oft beneath the Banyan tree<br>"She sate and fondly nourish'd me;<br>"And while the noontide hour past slow,<br>"I felt her breast with kindness glow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Where'er I turn my sleepless eyes,<br>"No cheek so dark as mine, I see;<br>"For Europe's Suns, with softer dyes<br>"Mark Europe's favour'd progeny!<br>"Low is my stature, black my hair,<br>"The emblem of my Soul's despair!<br>"My voice no dulcet cadence flings,<br>"To touch soft pity's throbbing strings!<br>"Then wherefore cruel Briton, say,<br>"Compel my aching heart to stay?<br>"To-morrow's Sun--may rise, to see--<br>"The famish'd LASCAR, blest as thee!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The morn had scarcely shed its rays<br>When, from the City's din he ran;<br>For he had fasted, four long days,<br>And faint his Pilgrimage began!<br>The LASCAR, now, without a friend,--<br>Up the steep hill did slow ascend;<br>Now o'er the flow'ry meadows stole,<br>While pain, and hunger, pinch'd his Soul;<br>And now his fev'rish lip was dried,<br>And burning tears his thirst supply'd,<br>And, ere he saw the Ev'ning close,<br>Far off, the City dimly rose!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Again the Summer Sun flam'd high<br>The plains were golden, far and wide;<br>And fervid was the cloudless sky,<br>And slow the breezes seem'd to glide:<br>The gossamer, on briar and spray,<br>Shone silv'ry in the solar ray;<br>And sparkling dew-drops, falling round<br>Spangled the hot and thirsty ground;<br>The insect myriads humm'd their tune<br>To greet the coming hour of noon,<br>While the poor LASCAR Boy, in haste,<br>Flew, frantic, o'er the sultry waste.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And whither could the wand'rer go?<br>Who would receive a stranger poor?<br>Who, when the blasts of night should blow,<br>Would ope to him the friendly door?<br>Alone, amid the race of man,<br>The sad, the fearful alien ran!<br>None would an Indian wand'rer bless;<br>None greet him with the fond caress;<br>None feed him, though with hunger keen<br>He at the Lordly gate were seen,<br>Prostrate, and humbly forc'd to crave<br>A shelter, for an Indian Slave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The noon-tide Sun, now flaming wide,<br>No cloud its fierce beam shadow'd o'er,<br>But what could worse to him betide<br>Than begging, at the proud man's door?<br>For clos'd and lofty was the gate,<br>And there, in all the pride of State,<br>A surly Porter turn'd the key,<br>A man of sullen soul was he--<br>His brow was fair; but in his eye<br>Sat pamper'd scorn, and tyranny;<br>And, near him, a fierce mastiff stood,<br>Eager to bathe his fangs in blood.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The weary LASCAR turn'd away,<br>For trembling fear his heart subdued,<br>And down his cheek the tear would stray,<br>Though burning anguish drank his blood!<br>The angry Mastiff snarl'd, as he<br>Turn'd from the house of luxury;<br>The sultry hour was long, and high<br>The broad-sun flamed athwart the sky--<br>But still a throbbing hope possess'd<br>The Indian wand'rer's fev'rish breast,<br>When from the distant dell a sound<br>Of swelling music echo'd round.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was the church-bell's merry peal;<br>And now a pleasant house he view'd:<br>And now his heart began to feel<br>As though, it were not quite subdu'd!<br>No lofty dome, shew'd loftier state,<br>No pamper'd Porter watch'd the gate,<br>No Mastiff, like a tyrant stood,<br>Eager to scatter human blood;<br>Yet the poor Indian wand'rer found,<br>E'en where Religion smil'd around--<br>That tears had little pow'r to speak<br>When trembling, on a sable cheek!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With keen reproach, and menace rude,<br>The LASCAR Boy away was sent;<br>And now again he seem'd subdu'd,<br>And his soul sicken'd, as he went.<br>Now, on the river's bank he stood;<br>Now, drank the cool refreshing flood;<br>Again his fainting heart beat high;<br>Again he rais'd his languid eye;<br>Then, from the upland's sultry side,<br>Look'd back, forgave the wretch, and sigh'd!<br>While the proud PASTOR bent his way<br>To preach of CHARITY--and PRAY!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>II.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The LASCAR Boy still journey'd on,<br>For the hot Sun, HE well could bear,<br>And now the burning hour was gone,<br>And Evening came, with softer air!<br>The breezes kiss'd his sable breast,<br>While his scorch'd feet the cold dew prest;<br>The waving flow'rs soft tears display'd,<br>And songs of rapture fill'd the glade;<br>The South-wind quiver'd, o'er the stream<br>Reflecting back the rosy beam,<br>While, as the purpling twilight clos'd,<br>On a turf bed--the Boy repos'd!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now, in fancy's airy dream,<br>The LASCAR Boy his Mother spied;<br>And, from her breast, a crimson stream<br>Slow trickled down her beating side:<br>And now he heard her wild, complain,<br>As loud she shriek'd--but shriek'd in vain!<br>And now she sunk upon the ground,<br>The red stream trickling from her wound,<br>And near her feet a murd'rer stood,<br>His glitt'ring poniard tipp'd with blood!<br>And now, "farewell, my son !" she cried,<br>Then clos'd her fainting eyes--and died!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Indian Wand'rer, waking, gaz'd<br>With grief, and pain, and horror wild;<br>And tho' his fev'rish brain was craz'd,<br>He rais'd his eyes to Heav'n, and smil'd!<br>And now the stars were twinkling clear,<br>And the blind Bat was whirling near;<br>And the lone Owlet shriek'd, while He<br>Still sate beneath a shelt'ring tree;<br>And now the fierce-ton'd midnight blast<br>Across the wide heath, howling past,<br>When a long cavalcade he spied<br>By torch-light near the river's side.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He rose, and hast'ning swiftly on,<br>Call'd loudly to the Sumptuous train,--<br>But soon the cavalcade was gone--<br>And darkness wrapp'd the scene again.<br>He follow'd still the distant sound;<br>He saw the lightning flashing round;<br>He heard the crashing thunder roar;<br>He felt the whelming torrents pour;<br>And, now beneath a shelt'ring wood<br>He listen'd to the tumbling flood--<br>And now, with falt'ring, feeble breath,<br>The famish'd LASCAR, pray'd for Death.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now the flood began to rise<br>And foaming rush'd along the vale;<br>The LASCAR watch'd, with stedfast eyes,<br>The flash descending quick and pale;<br>And now again the cavalcade<br>Pass'd slowly near the upland glade;--<br>But HE was dark, and dark the scene,<br>The torches long extinct had been;<br>He call'd, but, in the stormy hour,<br>His feeble voice had lost its pow'r,<br>'Till, near a tree, beside the flood,<br>A night-bewilder'd Trav'ller stood.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The LASCAR now with transport ran<br>"Stop ! stop !" he cried--with accents bold;<br>The Trav'ller was a fearful man--<br>And next his life he priz'd his gold!--<br>He heard the wand'rer madly cry;<br>He heard his footsteps following nigh;<br>He nothing saw, while onward prest,<br>Black as the sky, the Indian's breast;<br>Till his firm grasp he felt, while cold<br>Down his pale cheek the big drop roll'd;<br>Then, struggling to be free, he gave--<br>A deep wound to the LASCAR Slave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now he groan'd, by pain opprest,<br>And now crept onward, sad and slow:<br>And while he held his bleeding breast,<br>He feebly pour'd the plaint of woe!<br>"What have I done ?" the LASCAR cried--<br>"That Heaven to me the pow'r denied<br>"To touch the soul of man, and share<br>"A brother's love, a brother's care;<br>"Why is this dingy form decreed<br>"To bear oppression's scourge and bleed?--<br>"Is there a GOD, in yon dark Heav'n,<br>"And shall such monsters be forgiv'n?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Here, in this smiling land we find<br>"Neglect and mis'ry sting our race;<br>"And still, whate'er the LASCAR'S mind,<br>"The stamp of sorrow marks his face!"<br>He ceas'd to speak; while from his side<br>Fast roll'd life's swiftly-ebbing tide,<br>And now, though sick and faint was he,<br>He slowly climb'd a tall Elm tree,<br>To watch, if, near his lonely way,<br>Some friendly Cottage lent a ray,<br>A little ray of chearful light,<br>To gild the LASCAR'S long, long night!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now he hears a distant bell,<br>His heart is almost rent with joy!<br>And who, but such a wretch can tell,<br>The transports of the Indian boy?<br>And higher now he climbs the tree,<br>And hopes some shelt'ring Cot to see;<br>Again he listens, while the peal<br>Seems up the woodland vale to steal;<br>The twinkling stars begin to fade,<br>And dawnlight purples o'er the glade--<br>And while the sev'ring vapours flee,<br>The LASCAR boy looks chearfully!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now the Sun begins to rise<br>Above the Eastern summit blue;<br>And o'er the plain the day-breeze flies,<br>And sweetly bloom the fields of dew!<br>The wand'ring wretch was chill'd, for he<br>Sate, shiv'ring in the tall Elm tree;<br>And he was faint, and sick, and dry,<br>And bloodshot was his fev'rish eye;<br>And livid was his lip, while he<br>Sate silent in the tall Elm tree--<br>And parch'd his tongue; and quick his breath,<br>And his dark cheek, was cold as Death!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now a Cottage low he sees,<br>The chimney smoke, ascending grey,<br>Floats lightly on the morning breeze<br>And o'er the mountain glides away.<br>And now the Lark, on flutt'ring wings,<br>Its early Song, delighted sings;<br>And now, across the upland mead,<br>The Swains their flocks to shelter lead;<br>The shelt'ring woods, wave to and fro;<br>The yellow plains, far distant, glow;<br>And all things wake to life and joy,<br>All I but the famish'd Indian Boy!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now the village throngs are seen,<br>Each lane is peopled, and the glen<br>From ev'ry op'ning path-way green,<br>Sends forth the busy hum of men.<br>They cross the meads, still, all alone,<br>They hear the wounded LASCAR groan!<br>Far off they mark the wretch, as he<br>Falls, senseless, from the tall Elm tree!<br>Swiftly they cross the river wide<br>And soon they reach the Elm tree's side,<br>But, ere the sufferer they behold,<br>His wither'd Heart , is DEAD, and COLD!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mary+Darby+Robinson">Mary Darby Robinson</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455722" data-title="The Lascar de Mary Darby Robinson" data-description="I. "Another day, Ah! me, a day "Of dreary Sorrow is begun! "And still I loath the temper'd ray, "And still I hate the sickly Sun! "Far from my Native Indian shore, "I hear our wretched race deplore; "I mark the..."></div> </div> </div>
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