Debtoru Chatterjee

The worries upon my fevered brow
Appear in a strain, I know not how
And though through the prayer books I plough
That exhort the divine will to bow.
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And when I am possessed of the Muse
Such a crowd of thoughts come upon my mind
And intense passions work into shape
A Harmony straight from the Undefined.
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I bent my way up the country lane
Where the sun showed mellow and fair
The dainty leaves rustled on the boughs
The buttercups at me did stare.
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I have turned my back on Ambition
And pine not for glories past
The carcades, tunics, buttoned prince-coats
Count me no longer in their caste.
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Let the Almighty play His tune
Hurry not the celestial pace
Everything is in fine balance worked out
Await the steady step of His Grace!
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Throw name and fame out of the window,
These two imposters can lead you astray
Seek not the crown of success on your brow!
Realize where your true interests lay!
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Should I call You merciful or treacherous?
Why so unevenly do you judge?
For those in prolonged pain and their kin
Eagerly count your slowly-loudening trudge.
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Your cold clammy touch, I hate to feel
All that's Evil and Death seem your allies true
You deceive with bright sun and sky blue
But the emissary night comes our kin to steal.
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Do you have no joys to yield from your black fold?
Increasing the dread, allying with silence and the cold
A sign of evil, crime or Death
And all Nature watches Your ghastly Dance in bated breath.
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Some go out to court bloody Death
In battle, on the point of steel
Others live out their varied life spans
Like the end of a length of reel
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