Once more we hail thee welcome to our Coast,
India’s fair model, as her brightest boat!
Oh! Fay what left Intelligence restores
Thy long-lost virtues of these gladdened shores?
What meek eyed Harbringer of good displays
Th’ unhop’d return of former, halcyon, days?
And bids the Seraph train with duteous hand
Conduct their precious charge in safety to the land?
Forbid me not to raise the votive lay!
It is the Muse – her mandate I obey,
As dwells the Pearl embosom’d in the wave,
And finds with the parent-shell it’s grave,
If haply he that searches nature’s plan
Give not its glories to the view of man;
So, modest worth her own desert would shun,
Veil her sweat orb from day, nor meet the garish fun.
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