Here Passion's restless eye and spirit rude
May greet no kindred images of power
To fear or wonder ministrant. No tower,
Time-struck and tenantless, here seems to brood,
In the dread majesty of solitude,
O'er human pride departed--no rocks lower
O'er ravenous billows--no vast hollow wood
Rings with the lion's thunder--no dark bower
The crouching tiger haunts--no gloomy cave
Glitters with savage eyes! But all the scene
Is calm and cheerful. At the mild command
Of Britain's sons, the skilful and the brave,
Fair palace-structures decorate the land,
And proud ships float on Hooghly's breast serene!