e 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 s