Romesh Chunder Dutt Poems

Poems » romesh chunder dutt

Romesh Chunder Dutt
Romesh Chunder Dutt, CIE (Calcutta August 13, 1848 Baroda November 30, 1909), or R. C. Dutt, was a Bengali writer, civil servant, economic historian, and translator of Ramayana and Mahabharata. He was president of the Indian National Congress in 1899. Dutt was born August 13, 1848 into a Kayasth Bengali family distinguished for literary and academic achievements. His parents were Thakamani and Isam Chunder Dutt. His father, Isam, was a Deputy Collector of Bengal, whom Romesh accompanied on official duties. He was educated in Bengali District schools, then at Hare School, founded by the philanthropist, David Hare, in Kolkata. Romesh's uncle, Shoshee Chunder Dutt, an accomplished writer, became his guardian in 1861. "He used to sit at night with us and our favorite study used to be pieces from the works of the English poets." He entered perhaps the best school in Bengal, the University of Calcutta, Presidency College in 1864, then passed the First Arts examination in 1866, second in order of merit, and won a scholarship. While still a student in the B.A. class, without his family's permission he and two friends left for England in 1868. Only one Indian, Satyendra Nath Tagore, had ever before qualified for the Indian Civil Service, but that was Romesh's objective. For a long time before, only British officers had been appointed to covenanted posts. At University College, London, Dutt continued to study British writers. He studied law at Middle Temple, London, was called to the bar, and qualified for the Indian Civil Service in the open examination in 1869.

land of hope and glory
 
 
(1) 1902 Version: VI. Land of Hope and Glory. Finale (Contralto Solo and Tutti)

Land of ... [read poem]
skunk hour
 
 
For Elizabeth Bishop

Nautilus Island's hermit
heiress still lives through winter in ... [read poem]
the sparrow
 
 
O pertest, most self-satisfied
Of aught that breathes or moves,
See where you sit, wit... [read poem]
agni, or the fire
 
 
Lighted Agni flames forth high,
Flings a radiance on the sky,
And his lustre, glorio... [read poem]
self
 
 
This is my chiefest torment, that behind
The brave and subtle spirit, the swift brain,... [read poem]
"i am small and of no reputation; yet do i not forget thy commandments"
 
 
How small a thing am I, of no repute,
Whirled in the rush of these eternal tides;
... [read poem]
Continue in Arthur Christopher Benson »»»

Page 1 of 1