Henry Louis Vivian Derozio
Henry Louis Vivian Derozio Poems
- The Harp Of India Why hang'st thou lonely on yon withered ...
- To My Native Land My country! In thy days of glory past A ...
- Song Of The Hindustanee Minstr... I With surmah tinge the ...
- A Walk By Moonlight Last night - it was a lovely night, And...
- Going Into Darkness 'It is that hour when dusky night Comes ...
Henry Louis Vivian Derozio was a fiery Indian teacher and poet. As a lecturer at the Hindu College of Calcutta, he invigorated a large group of students to think independently; this Young Bengal group played a key role in the Bengal renaissance.
Derozio was generally considered an Anglo-Indian, being of mixed Portuguese descent, but he was fired by a patriotic spirit for his native Bengal, and considered himself Indian. In his poem To India My Native Land he wrote:
“My Country! In the days of Glory Past
A beauteous halo circled round thy brow
And worshiped as deity thou wast,
Where is that Glory, where is that reverence now?”
Early ... more »
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
The Harp Of India
Why hang'st thou lonely on yon withered bough?
Unstrung for ever, must thou there remain;
Thy music once was sweet - who hears it now?
Why doth the breeze sigh over thee in vain?
Silence hath bound thee with her fatal chain;
Neglected, mute, and desolate art thou,
Like ruined monument on desert plain:
O! many a hand more worthy far than mine
Once thy harmonious chords to sweetness gave,
And many a wreath for them did Fame entwine
Of flowers still blooming on the minstrel's grave:
Those hands are cold - but if thy notes divine
May be by mortal wakened once ...