NOCTURNE WRITTEN IN AN INDIAN GARDEN 'Where ignorance is bliss,'Tis folly to be wise.' The time-gun rolls his nerve-destroying bray;The toiling moon rides slowly o'er the trees;The weary diners cast their cares away,And seek the lawn for coolness and for ease. Now spreads the gathering stillness like a pall,And melancholy silence rules the scene,Save where the bugler sounds his homing call,And thirsty Thomas leaves the wet canteen; Save... more...