Collected Poems of Henry Derozio: Preface by Manu Samriti Chander; Edited by Amardeep Singh

Fakeer of Jungheera 2.3


O! lovely is my native land 
   With all its skies of cloudless light; 
But there's a heart, and there's a hand 
   More dear to me than sky most bright. 
I prize them—yes, as though they were 
   On earth the only things divine, 
The only good, the only fair— 
   And O! that heart and hand are thine. 

My native land hath heavenliest bowers 
   Where Houris ruby-cheeked might dwell, 
And they are gemmed with buds and flowers 
   Sweeter than lip or lute may tell. 
But there's a sigh, and there's a fear 
   With passion's warmth and glory's shine, 
Than bud or flower to me more dear— 
   And oh! that tear and sigh are thine. 

My native home, my native home 
   Hath in its groves the turtle dove, 
And from her nest she will not roam— 
   For it is warmed with faith and love. 
But there is love, and there is faith, 
   Which round a bleeding heart entwine, 
To thee devoted even to death— 
   And ah! that love and faith are mine! 

A mosque there is in fair Cashmeer 
   With all its minarets bright as day, 
Where resteth now of sainted Peer 
   The lifeless but unfading clay. 
But there's a heart, a broken heart, 
   Where burns a thought as in a shrine, 
And cannot, will not, all depart— 
   The thought's of thee, the heart is mine. 

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