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The Royal Tombs Of Golconda

 I MUSE among these silent fanes 
Whose spacious darkness guards your dust; 
Around me sleep the hoary plains 
That hold your ancient wars in trust.
I pause, my dreaming spirit hears, Across the wind's unquiet tides, The glimmering music of your spears, The laughter of your royal brides.
In vain, O Kings, doth time aspire To make your names oblivion's sport, While yonder hill wears like a tier The ruined grandeur of your fort.
Though centuries falter and decline, Your proven strongholds shall remain Embodied memories of your line, Incarnate legends of your reign.
O Queens, in vain old Fate decreed Your flower-like bodies to the tomb; Death is in truth the vital seed Of your imperishable bloom Each new-born year the bulbuls sing Their songs of your renascent loves; Your beauty wakens with the spring To kindle these pomegranate groves.

by Sarojini Naidu
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