Away, away! The plains of Ind Have set their victim free; I give my sorrows to the wind, My sun-hat to the sea; And, standing with a chosen few, I watch a dying glow, The passing of the Finest View...
Now the busy screw is churning, Now the horrid sirens blow; Now are India's guests returning Home from India's Greatest Show; Now the gleeful Asiatic Speeds them on their wild career,...
It is told, in Buddhi-theosophic Schools There are rules By observing which when mundane matter irks, Or the world has gone amiss, you Can incontinently issue From the circumscribing tissue...