Written By Robert David
Composed June 24, 1997, certified Australian Copyright Council

There´s a land across the ocean, the land of my birth
The first which God created, when he put Man on earth.

Where kings and queens and princes, have ruled five thousand years
In a land of love and laughter, and joys and toil and tears

It´s a land of mighty rivers, and forests gold and green
And tow´ring majestic mountains, the greatest man has seen.

From the green hills of Darjeeling, you see Mount Everest´s crest
And the snow clad peaks that surround her, where the clouds come home to rest

There´s the Taj Mahal so lovely, and red fort nearby
Where a King once pined for his lost love, and prayed that he could die

It´s a land the world calls India, across the ocean foam
A land I love so dearly, the land I once called Home
A land I once called Home.

The Eurasian Anthem

Written by Crickshanks Published in the Eurasian January 5, 1850

When Britain from the azure sea First rose the land of liberty This was her great commission Go forth to India distant strand Subdue and civilize her condition

And when thou once established there They laws disperse them fair And bless the whole nation To all and each extend thy grace But Chiefly to an unborn race That shall be called Eurasian

Allied to both the black and white They shall both interests unite And form the central props Of all thy future ample sway O´er this bright region of the day This land of golden crops

With steady hearts and souls of fire To equal right they shall aspire And equal honour too Nor shouldst thou disallow their claim For recollecting whence they came They shall assert their due

Such was the great the commission given To British by the Voice of Heaven Bear Witness Church and State Let her fulfill the high decree Write in the book of destiny The unerring book of fate

Nor let her more effect to scorn Her injured sons in India born Whom she has cast away But since they are her flesh and bone Now let her make them in her own And join them in her sway

This let her prove that she is just A faithful guardian to her trust While every true Eurasian Obliged by more than filial ties On her defence shall gladly rise Against each hostile nation

All hail to Britain and her laws Heav´n prosper India and her cause All hail to both the nations As Britain so let India be A land of equal liberty To Britons and Eurasians

The Sorrow Of The East Indian

Written By Moreno

He cannot be a soldier
There’s no room as a clerk
He is not wanted by the merchants
His skin is rather dark
He is not pure European
Nor is he a Babu
He is termed what’s called East Indian
As a bleeding of the two
´Tis true he fought for England
In the days of Fifty Seven
But he has traces of the tar-brush
His rise was our own Father
Who gained for us the land
But to be one with the darky son
We will not understand
To the colours of our country
He’d be loyal firm and true
But won’t say ‘Ap” call us Ma Bap’
O! Meekly pray ‘Huzoor’
Nor can he with the Hindu
Stand equally on swearing
But eats his full and like John Bull
Has English ways and airing
Let him go and be a loafer
Let him die in a ‘Serai’
Meanwhile we’ll train the native brain
But no quarter for E.I.
Why don’t the good-for-nothings
Pack up and emigrate
And leave the run to Babudom
And go to Utah State
The land needs no East Indians
The nature’s open to scorn
While for our sake, its a mistake
That they were ever born.

*Published in the Anglo-Indian – October 17, 1908