Nowhere is writ in colors diverse the mark of caste,
’Tis the happy native land of brothers equal and free at last.
Peacefully in those throngs are mingled diverse speech and color,
The beggar does not wind in rags, nor wastes his wealth the idler;
Gone are the wretched huts, tidy homes though plain are everywhere;
And where a stately palace proudly towers to the skies, not there
Is a haughty egoist’s abode, opens wide its gates to all;
The people’s parliament deliberates free their rise and fall;
From there the glow of knowledge spreads about a benevolent light,
Ennobling the human feelings, there in art soul finds delight.—