Archive for June 8th, 2020

Monday, 8 June 2020

The Mango by John Horsford

Fav’rite tree, beneath thy shade,
I’ve oft in contemplation staid,
Thy shining foliage to behold,
When April shew’d his face in gold!

Thy luscious fruit’s admir’d—the best
Which ripens in the rosy East;
By elegance the most ador’d,
Of all the viands on the board:

Whose juices in soft sweetness run,
When mellow’d by it’s parent sun;
When he transforms the infant green,
Then thou’rt in fragrant yellow seen.

Delicious tree! Thy umbrage broad,
On me a cooling bower bestow’d,
Delighted as I’ve sat, the dove
Coo’d tales of tenderness above.

And I’ve the skipping squirrel view’d,
Despoil thy loaded branch for food;
His back of party-coloured dye—
Like glossy jet his shining eye.

Purg’d by the pow’r, the noxious blood,
Flows in our veins a purer flood;
A soul invigorating stream,
Salubrious to the human frame.

Beside thee zealous Indians raise
The rev’rend fane to BRAHMAH’S praise,
And pour their fervent souls in pray’r,
To all his painted figures there.

At meditation’s holy hour,
Still may I know thy fav’rite bow’r,
Creation’s wonders ponder o’er,
And GOD, my higher God adore!

From: Horsford, John, A Collection of Poems, Written in the East Indies. With Miscellaneous Remarks, in Real Life, 1797, Telegraph Press: Calcutta pp. 32-34.

Date: 1793

By: John Horsford (1751-1817)