Joy it is in Ranikhet
Walking when the eve is wet
Underneath the scented glooms
Of the over-arching pines,
Where the fire-fly flits and shines
In among the chestnut blooms,
And the glow-worm's lamp is set
To guide the feet to Ranikhet.
Ranikhet is sweet and wild,
Like a lonely forest-child,
Born in habitation rude,
Rocked upon the knees of Time,
Tutored to an art sublime
In her virgin solitude:
Happy is the day we met,
Mountain-maiden Ranikhet!
Ranikhet is soft and fair,
With the pine-scents in her hair,
On her breast a rose is worn,
With a ravishing perfume,
And a rhododendrom bloom
Richer than the skies at morn:
So all my heart with love is set:
I'll live and die for Ranikhet.
Ranikhet is a hill station in India where Alfred Williams was stationed for a time during World War One. In 1921 he named his new cottage in South Marston Ranikhet.