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A Musing On A Victory

Rating: 2.3

Down by the Sutlej shore,
Where sound the trumpet and the wild tum-tum,
At winter's eve did come
A gaunt old northern lion, at whose roar
The myriad howlers of thy wilds are dumb,
Blood-stained Ferozepore!


In the rich Indian night,
And dreaming of his mate beyond the sea,

Toil-worn but grand to sight,
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