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O KING SHIVAJEE !
In what far-off country, Upon what obscure day I know not now, Seated in the gloom of— Some Mahratta mountain-wood O King Shivajee, Lighting thy brow, Like a lightning flash, This thought descended (upon you) — “Into one virtuous rule, This divided, Broken, Distracted India, I shall bind.” —Rabindranath Tagore (Nobel laureate)