The Ameer of Cabul, Yakoob Khan.
First Prize.
Begone, begone with thee, son of Shere Ali!
(Thus chanted a Mollah on Gandamak’s brow.)
No cursèd Hindu, timid servant of Kali,
Is feeble in heart and in spirit as thou.
O, brave as the chieftains thy palace adorning
How high was thy pride ere the Englishman came,
Like the frost of the north on the flow’r of the morning,
And silenced thy boasting, and withered thy fame