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Those blissful realms, where jarring castes shall cease, 

 And all be harmony, and joy, and peace ! 



One lustre scarce has swell'd the stream of Time, 

 Since Britain conquer'd in this favour'd clime ; 

 Since Freedom here, her valued blessings pour'd. 

 And British laws and British rights procured: 

 Ah ! now no more ye boast so mild a sway, 

 To despots doom'd an unresisting prey ; 

 The day is fix'd that brings oppression dire, 

 And bids your mantling hopes and joys expire. 



How short our triumph o'er this wide domain ' 

 No honour'd vestige of our wars remain. 

 From Ahmed's splendid fanes and regal bow'rs, 

 To towns far distant on the Concan shores. 

 This spacious tract obey'd our mild command, 

 And British freedom bless'd a grateful land. 



O sad reverse ! these fair luxuriant plains, 

 Where Nature smiles, and golden Plenty reigns. 

 Where numerous flocks and herds adorn the meads. 

 And fruitful harvests wave their varied heads; 

 Where Nerbudda, majestic, rolls her tide, 

 And streams of lesser note pellucid glide ; 

 Where stately castles, royal cities rise, 

 And fanes and Minars glad the pilgrim's eyes ; 

 Where cheerful villages, and groves serene, 

 In beauty deck the bright expansive scene ; 

 All these must feel Oppression's iron rod, 

 And bow, reluctant, to a tyrant's nod : 

 A stern Mahratta's power too soon must own, 

 And Freedom quit her Asiatic throne : 

 Your haughty rulers now again return, 

 Towns, cities, villages, — submissive, mourn ! 

 Mourn for those blessings of so short a date ; 

 For Scindia, Malwa's chief, has seal'd your fate! 



