I am glad to see many sensible people paying the climate the compliment of treating it like that of England.  It is now fashionable to use our limbs in the ordinary way, and the “Garden of Eden"[052] has become a favorite promenade, particularly on the evenings when a band from the Fort fills the air with a cheerful harmony and throws a fresher life upon the scene.  It is not to be denied that besides the mere exercise, pedestrians at home have great advantages over those who are too indolent or aristocratic to leave their equipages, because they can cut across green and quiet fields, enter rural by-ways, and enjoy a thousand little patches of lovely scenery that are secrets to the high-road traveller.  But still the Calcutta pedestrian has also his gratifications.  He can enjoy no exclusive prospects, but he beholds upon an Indian river a forest of British masts—­the noble shipping of the Queen of the Sea—­and has a fine panoramic view of this City of Palaces erected by his countrymen on a foreign shore;—­and if he is fond of children, he must be delighted with the numberless pretty and happy little faces—­the fair forms of Saxon men and women in miniature—­that crowd about him on the green sward;—­he must be charmed with their innocent prattle, their quick and graceful movements, and their winning ways, that awaken a tone of tender sentiment in his heart, and rekindle many sweet associations.

SONNETS,

WRITTEN IN EXILE.

I.

    Man’s heart may change, but Nature’s glory never;—­
    And while the soul’s internal cell is bright,
    The cloudless eye lets in the bloom and light
    Of earth and heaven to charm and cheer us ever. 
    Though youth hath vanished, like a winding river
    Lost in the shadowy woods; and the dear sight
    Of native hill and nest-like cottage white,
    ’Mid breeze-stirred boughs whose crisp leaves gleam and quiver,
    And murmur sea-like sounds, perchance no more
    My homeward step shall hasten cheerily;
    Yet still I feel as I have felt of yore,
    And love this radiant world.  Yon clear blue sky—­
    These gorgeous groves—­this flower-enamelled floor—­
    Have deep enchantments for my heart and eye.

II.

    Man’s heart may change, but Nature’s glory never,
    Though to the sullen gaze of grief the sight
    Of sun illumined skies may seem less bright,
    Or gathering clouds less grand, yet she, as ever,
    Is lovely or majestic.  Though fate sever
    The long linked bands of love, and all delight
    Be lost, as in a sudden starless night,
    The radiance may return, if He, the giver
    Of peace on earth, vouchsafe the storm to still
    This breast once shaken with the strife of care
    Is touched with silent joy.  The cot—­the hill,
    Beyond the broad blue wave—­and faces fair,
    Are pictured in my dreams, yet scenes that fill
    My waking eye can save me from despair.