The Harp Of India Poem by Henry Louis Vivian Derozio
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 again,
Harp of my country, let me strike the strain!
Such a great write by Henry Louis Vivian Derozio......................
A well written sonnet, the poet is the voice of 'my country'
Brilliantly composed patriotic sonnet by Henry Derozio. I have translated this poem into Hindi and will post it shortly. Hope this will be liked by the readers. Thanks.
What a marvellous poem! It inspires me. May be by mortal wakened once again Harp of my country let me strike the strain - quite unparalleled patriotic strike!
'Thy music once was sweet'! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Neglected, mute, and desolate art thou, ..... this is full of sentiment and sentimental theme on the background of reminder large past green field with poetic arts and appeal
With poets like these India would never hang its harp. This poem is so beautiful and full with love for India.
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4/26/2024 6:42:59 AM # 1.0.0.1119
This poem inspires the greatness of India once again in this beautiful and sweet Sonnet form!