Narrative of a Journey Through the Upper Provinces of India, from Calcutta to Bombay, 1824-1825: (With Notes Upon Ceylon,) an Account of a Journey to Madras and the Southern Provinces, 1826, and Letters Written in India, Volume 1Carey, Lea & Carey, 1829 |
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Common terms and phrases
Abdullah Allahabad animals answered appearance asked attended bamboos bank Bareilly beautiful Benares Bengal boats Boulderson brahmin breakfast building Calcutta called camels Captain Cawnpoor Christian Chunar church Colonel Company's considerable Corrie coss cultivated Dacca Delhi Dinapoor distance dress elephants England English European extremely favourable Ganges Government handsome heard hills Hindoo Hindoostanee horse India jemautdar journey Kemaoon kind KING OF OUDE less looking Lord Lucknow Meerut Mendee ment miles Monghyr morning mosque mountains Mussulmans native Nawab neighbourhood neighbouring night noble Oude palace palanquin passed persons pinnace poor prayers present pretty pulwar rain Raja received Resident river road Rohillas round ruins rupees Sahib seemed seen sent sepoys Serang servants side sort station stream Sunderbunds supposed suttees suwarrs tents thing tiger tion told tomb town trees usual vessel village whole wind young Zemindars
Popular passages
Page 173 - ... when, on our deck reclined, In careless ease my limbs I lay, and woo the cooler wind. I miss thee when by Gunga's stream my twilight steps I guide, But most beneath the lamp's pale beam I miss thee from my side.
Page 173 - O'er Gunga's mimic sea ! I miss thee at the dawning gray, When, on our deck reclined, In careless ease my limbs I lay And woo the cooler wind. I miss thee when...
Page 176 - With pendent train and rushing wings, Aloft the gorgeous peacock springs ; And he, the bird of hundred dyes, Whose plumes the dames of Ava prize. So rich a shade, so green a sod, Our English fairies never trod ; Yet who in Indian bow'r has stood, But thought on England's
Page 173 - But miss thy kind approving eye, thy meek attentive ear. But when of morn and eve the star beholds me on my knee, I feel, though thou art distant far, thy prayers ascend for me. Then on ! then on ! where duty leads my course be onward still, — O'er broad Hindostan's sultry meads, o'er bleak Almorah's hill. That course nor Delhi's kingly gates, nor wild Malwah detain, For sweet the bliss us both awaits by yonder western main.
Page 76 - ... sun and nakedness may have tanned it ; and I am encouraged in this hypothesis by observing that of animals the natural colours are generally dusky and uniform, while whiteness and a variety of tint almost invariably follow domestication, shelter from the elements, and a mixed and unnatural diet. Thus while hardship, additional exposure, a greater degree of heat, and other circumstances with which we are unacquainted, may have deteriorated the Hindoo into a negro, opposite causes may have changed...
Page 177 - Philomel ! * Enough, enough, the rustling trees Announce a shower upon the breeze, — The flashes of the summer sky Assume a deeper, ruddier dye; Yon lamp that trembles on the stream, From forth our cabin sheds its beam ; And we must early sleep, to find Betimes the morning's healthy wind. But oh ! with thankful hearts confess Ev'n here there may be happiness ; And He, the bounteous Sire, has given His peace on earth— his hope of heaven !
Page 177 - And through the trees, yon failing ray Will scantly serve to guide our way. Yet, mark! as fade the upper skies, Each thicket opes ten thousand eyes. Before, beside us, and above, The fire-fly lights his lamp of love, Retreating...
Page 176 - Mid Nature's embers, parched and dry, Where o'er some tower in ruin laid, The peepul spreads its haunted shade ; Or round a tomb his scales to wreathe, Fit warder in the gate of death ! Come on ! Yet pause! behold us now Beneath the bamboo's arched bough...
Page 501 - Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city. 15 For without are dogs, and sorcerers, and whoremongers, and murderers, and idolaters, and whosoever loveth and maketh a lie.
Page 177 - The shrill cigala strikes his lyre ; And, what is she whose liquid strain Thrills through yon copse of sugarcane? I know that soul-entrancing swell ! It is — it must be — Philomel ! ' Enough, enough, the rustling trees Announce a shower upon the breeze...