DIRGE OF TIPPOO SULTAUN.*
By the late Dr JOHN LEYDEN.
How quickly fled our Sultaun's state!
How soon his pomp has pass'd away!
How swiftly sped Seringa's+ fate
From wealth and power to dire decay!
How proud his conquering banners flew!
How stately march'd his dread array!
Soon as the King of earth withdrew
His favouring smile, they pass'd away!
His peopled kingdoms stretching wide,
A hundred subject leagues could fill;
While dreadful frown'd, in martial pride,
A hundred droogs + from hill to hill.
His hosts of war, a countless throng,-
His Franks, § impatient for the fray,-
His horse, that proudly pranced along-
All in a moment pass'd away!
His mountain forts of living stone
Were hewn from every massy rock,
Whence bright the sparkling rockets shone,
And loud the vollied thunder spoke.
His silver lances gleam'd on high,
His spangled standards flutter'd gay,
Lo, in the twinkling of an eye,
Their martial pride hath pass'd away!
Girt by the Cavery's holy stream,
By circling walls in triple row,
While deep between, with sullen gleam,
The dreary moat outspread below;
Copied from the original, by a gentleman lately returned from India.
High o'er the portals jarring hoarse
Stern ramparts rose in dread array;
Towers that seem'd proof to martial force;
All in a moment pass'd away!
His elephants of hideous cry,
His steeds that paw'd the battle ground,-
His golden stores that wont to lie
Through years of peace in cells profound,-
Himself a chief of prowess high,
Unmatch'd in battle's stormy day;
Lo, in the twinkling of an eye,
Our dauntless hero pass'd away!
His countless gems, a glittering host,
Arranged in ninefold order smiled;
Each treasured wealth the world can boast,
In splendid palaces were piled.
Jewels enchased, a precious store,
Of fretted pride, of polish high,
Of costly work, which ne'er before
Were heard with ear or seen with eye.
A hundred granaries huge inclosed
Full eighteen sorts of foodful grain;
Dark in his arsenals reposed
Battle's terrific flame-mouth'd train.
How paltry proud Durgoden's state
To his in fortune's prosperous day!
In wealth, in martial pomp elate,
All in a moment pass'd away!
Before our prince of deathless fame
The silver trumpets shrilling sound,
Applauding heralds loud acclaim,
And deep-toned nobuts + shook the ground.
His was the wealth by Rajahs won,
Beneath their high imperial sway,
While eight successive ages run,
But all, alas! has pass'd away!
How swift the ruthless spoiler came!
How quick he ravaged none can say,
Save HE whose dreadful eye of flame
Shall blast him on the judgment day.
The noontide came with baleful light,
The Sultaun's corpse in silence lay;
* One of the ancient Mahratta heroes. † A sort of large drums.
His kingdom, like a dream of night,
In silence vanish'd quite away!
But say, to fence the falling state,
Who foremost trod the ranks of fame ?
Great Kummer, chief of soul elate,
And stern Sher-Khan of deathless name.
Meer-Sadack, too, of high renown,
With him what chieftain could compare?
While Meer-Hussäin virgins own,
As flowery bow'd Meimmodeen fair.
Soobria, Mutte, Bubber-Jung,
Still foremost in the crush of fight,
And he whose martial glory rung
From realm to realm for dauntless might;
Khan Jehan Khan, * who stood alone,
Syed Sahib next, himself a host;
The chiefs round Indra's angel throne
Could ne'er such mighty prowess boast.
Purniah, + sprung from Brahma's line,
Intrepid in the martial fray,
Alike in council form'd to shine;
How could our Sultaun's power decay!
Ah! soon it fled !-how small a weight
Of nitrous sulphur sped the ball,
Outweigh'd to dust a sinking state,
And bade our gallant Sultaun fall!
Yet, ranged in ranks around the throne,
His brave Moguls would proudly say,
Did e'er this earth one sovereign own,
Thine, thine were universal sway.
Careless of fate, of fearless mind,
They feasted round in many a row ;
One bullet, viewless as the wind,
Amid them laid the Sultaun low!
Where, then, was Allah's far-famed power,
The boasted inspiration's might?
Where, in that unpropitious hour,
Was fled thy Khoran's sacred light?
• An officer who, in the most gallant manner, defended the breach at Seringapa
+ Tippoo's minister, (afterwards minister of the present Rajah) who settled the country on the British obtaining possession of it.
Vain was each pray'r and high behest
When Rungah * doom'd the fatal day!
How small a bullet pierced thy breast!
How soon thy kingdom pass'd away!
Amid his queens of royal race,
Of princely form, the monarch trod;
Amid his sons of martial
grace
The warrior moved an earthly god.
Girt with proud chiefs of prowess high,
How proud was his imperial sway!
Soon as the god of Colusaye *
Withdrew his smile, it pass'd away.
Coorg, + Cuddapah, † and Concan-land, †
These princely lords of old renown,
To thee outspread the unweapon'd hand,
And crouch'd at thine imperial frown;
Proud mountain chiefs, the lofty crest
They bent beneath thy scepter'd sway.
How dire the blow that pierced thy breast!
How soon thy kingdom pass'd away!
The sovereign of proud Delhi's throne,
That held the prostrate world in awe,
Stree-Munt, whose rule compels alone,
Mahratta tribes devoid of law;
The Rajahs of the peopled world
Resign'd their realms in deep dismay,
Whene'er thy victor flag unfurl'd-
How soon thy kingdom pass'd away!
From far Singala's § region came
The Anglian race, unknown to fly;
Revering Rungah's sacred name,
They dauntless press'd to victory.
Our lofty bulwarks down they threw,
And bade their drums victorious bray;
Then every earthly god withdrew,
Then fled Seringa's pomp away.
Where were the chiefs in combat bred?
The hosts in battle's dreadful day!
Ah! soon as Crishnu's favour fled,
Our prince, our kingdom, pass'd away!
* Hindoo deities.
Mahratta chief.
+ Chieftains tributary to Tippoo. § Europe-chiefly England.
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