JULY 



Alas ! creative nature calls to light 

 Myriads of winged forms in sportive flight, 

 When gathered clouds with ceaseless fury pour 

 A constant deluge in the rushing shower. 



Calcutta : A Poem. 



IN July India becomes a theatre in which 

 Nature stages a mighty transformation scene. 

 The prospect changes with kaleidoscopic 

 rapidity. The green water-logged earth is for 

 a time overhung by dull leaden clouds ; this 

 sombre picture melts away into one, even 

 more dismal, in which the rain pours down in 

 torrents, enveloping everything in mist and 

 moisture. Suddenly the sun blazes forth with 

 indescribable brilliance and shines through 

 an atmosphere, clear as crystal, from which 

 every particle of dust has been washed away. 

 Fleecy clouds sail majestically across the 

 vaulted firmament. Then follows a gorgeous 

 sunset in which changing colours run riot 

 through sky and clouds pearly grey, jet black, 

 dark dun, pale lavender, deep mauve, rich 



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