SASSOOR, IN THE DECCAN.
The plate represents a temple to Mahadeo, surrounded by inferior shrines. The Hindoos usually place some religious building at the confluence of two streams: and when the accompanying view was taken, there were some cultivated gardens, and groves of beautiful trees. Still, I believe, few Indian residents but will admit the truth of the feeling which the following lines endeavour to express.
It is Christmas, and the sunshine
Lies golden on the fields,
And flowers of white and purple,
Yonder fragrant creeper yields.
Like the plumes of some bold warrior,
The cocoa tree on high,
Lifts aloft its feathery branches,
Amid the deep blue sky.
From yonder shadowy peepul,
The pale fair lilac dove,
Like music from a temple,
Sings a song of grief and love.
The earth is bright with blossoms,
And a thousand jewelled wings,
’Mid the green boughs of the tamarind
A sudden sunshine flings.
For the East, is earth’s first-born,
And hath a glorious dower,
As Nature there had lavished
Her beauty and her power.
And yet I pine for England,
For my own—my distant home;
My heart is in that island,
Where’er my steps may roam.
It is merry there at Christmas—
We have no Christmas here;
’Tis a weary thing, a summer
That lasts throughout the year.
I remember how the banners
Hung round our ancient hall,
Bound with wreaths of shining holly,
Brave winter’s coronal.
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