(18 April 1809 – 26 December 1831 / Kolkata / India)

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To My Native Land

My country! In thy days of glory past
A beauteous halo circled round thy brow
and worshipped as a deity thou wast—
Where is thy glory, where the reverence now?
Thy eagle pinion is chained down at last,
And grovelling in the lowly dust art thou,
Thy minstrel hath no wreath to weave for thee
Save the sad story of thy misery!
Well—let me dive into the depths of time
And bring from out the ages, that have rolled
A few small fragments of these wrecks sublime
Which human eye may never more behold
And let the guerdon of my labour be,
My fallen country! One kind wish for thee!

Submitted: Thursday, September 02, 2010


Comments about this poem (To My Native Land by Henry Louis Vivian Derozio )

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  • Bibekananda Saha (7/19/2012 9:25:00 AM)

    First poem for freedom of India

    4 person liked.
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