Go where the Tiger in the darkness prowleth, Making a midnight meal of he and she; Go where the Lion in his hunger howleth, And think of me! Go where the serpent dangerously coileth, Or lies along at full length like a tree, Go where the Suttee in her own soot broileth, And think of me! Go where with human notes the Parrot dealeth In mono-_polly_-logue with tongue as free, And like a woman, all she can revealeth, And think of me! Go to the land of muslin and nankeening, And parasols of straw where hats should be, Go to the land of slaves and palankeening, And think of me! Go to the land of Jungles and of vast hills, And tall bamboos--may none _bamboozle_ thee! Go gaze upon their Elephants and Castles, And think of me! Go where a cook must always be a currier, And parch the pepper’d palate like a pea, Go where the fierce musquito is a worrier, And think of me! Go where the maiden on a marriage plan goes, Consign’d for wedlock to Calcutta’s quay, Where woman goes for mart, the same as mangoes, And think of me! Go where the sun is very hot and fervent, Go to the land of pagod and rupee, Where every black will be your slave and servant, And think of me! SIR JOHN BOWRING. To Bowring, man of many tongues, (All over tongues like rumour) This tributary verse belongs To paint his learned humour; All kinds of gabs he talks, I wis, From Latin down to Scottish; As fluent as a parrot is, But far more _Polly_-glottish! No grammar too abstruse he meets However dark and verby,-- He gossips Greek about the streets, And often _Russ_--in urbe--: Strange tongues whate’er you do them call, In short the man is able To tell you what’s _o’clock_ in all The _dialects_ of Babel. Take him on ‘Change; try Portuguese, The Moorish and the Spanish, Polish, Hungarian, Tyrolese, The Swedish and the Danish; Try him with these and fifty such, His skill will ne’er diminish, Although you should begin in Dutch And end (like me) in _Finnish_. TO MR. M‘ADAM. “Let us take to the road!”--_Beggar’s Opera._