Narrative of a Journey Through the Upper Provinces of India: From Calcutta to Bombay, 1824-1825, (with Notes Upon Ceylon,) an Account of a Journey to Madras and the Southern Provinces, 1826, and Letters Written in India, Том 1

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Стр. 240 - O'er Gunga's mimic sea ! I miss thee at the dawning gray, When, on our deck reclined, In careless ease my limbs I lay, And woo the cooler wind. I miss thee when by Gunga's stream My twilight steps I guide, But most beneath the lamp's pale beam, I miss thee from my side.
Стр. 246 - 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 bow'r has stood, But thought on England's
Стр. 234 - To-day or to-morrow we will go into such a city and continue there a year, and buy and sell, and get gain : whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life ? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away. For that ye ought to say, If the Lord will, we shall live, and do this, or that.
Стр. 374 - ... from me what few pice I had ; but it was a drop of water in the ocean, and the importunities of the rest, as we advanced into the city, were almost drowned in the hubbub which surrounded us. Such are the sights and sounds which greet a stranger on entering this
Стр. 374 - ... from every part of India, as well as from Tibet and the Birman empire, a great multitude of rich individuals in the decline of life, and almost all the great men who are from time to time disgraced or banished from home by the revolutions which are continually occurring in the Hindoo states, come hither to wash away their sins, or to fill up their vacant hours with the gaudy ceremonies of their religion, and really give away great sums in profuse and indiscriminate charity.
Стр. 241 - But when of morn and eve the star beholds me on my knee, I feel, though thou art distant far, thy prayers ascend for me. Then on ! then on ! where duty leads, my course be onward still.
Стр. 247 - 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...
Стр. 241 - That course, nor Delhi's kingly gates, Nor wild Malwah detain, For sweet the bliss us both awaits By yonder western main. ' Thy towers, Bombay, gleam bright, they say, Across the dark blue sea, But ne'er were hearts so light and gay As then shall meet in thee...
Стр. 37 - ... a badge of royalty. I was amused by one peculiarity, which I had never before heard of; while the elephant is going on, a man walks by his side, telling him where to tread, bidding him " take care,"—" step out," warning him that the road is rough, slippery, &c.
Стр. 69 - ... years to operate in, it is not easy to fix any limits to their power. I am inclined, after all, to suspect that our European vanity leads us astray in supposing that our own is the primitive complexion, which I should rather suppose was that of the Indian...

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