And as, o'er ocean far,
Seamen their records keep,
Led by some hidden star
Through the cold deep;
So may the words I write

Tell thro' what storms I stray

You still the unseen light

Guiding my way.

LET ERIN REMEMBER THE DAYS OF OLD

LET Erin remember the days of old,
Ere her faithless sons betray'd her;
When Malachi wore the collar of gold,
Which he won from her proud invader,
When her kings, with standard of green unfurl'¿,
Led the Red-Branch Knights to danger;

Ere the emerald gem of the western world
Was set in the crown of a stranger.

On Lough Neagh's bank. as the fisherman strays,
When the clear cold eve's declining,

He sees the round towers of other days
In the wave beneath him shining;
Thus shall memory often, in dreams sublime,
Catch a glimpse of the days that are over;
Thus, sighing, look through the waves of t'me
For the long faded glories they cover

EVELEEN'S BOWER.

OH! weep for the hour,

When to Eveleen's bower

The Lord of the Valley with false vows came;
The moon hid her light

From the heavens that night,

And wept behind her clouds o'er the maiden's shame.

The clouds pass'd soon

From the chaste cold moon,

And heaven smiled again with her vestal flame
But none will see the day,

When the clouds shall pass away,

Which that dark hour left upon Eveleen's fame.

The white snow lay

On the narrow path-way,

When the Lord of the Valley cross'd over the moor; And many a deep print

On the white snow's tint

Show'd the track of his footstep to Eveleen's door.

The next sun's ray

Soon melted away

Every trace on the path where the false Lord came, But there's a light above

Which alone can remove

That stain upon the snow of fair Eveleen's fame.

LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM.

On the days are gone, when Beauty bright My heart's chain wove;

When my dream of life, froin morn till night, Was love, still love.

New hope may bloom,

And days may come,

Of milder, calmer beam,

But there's nothing half so sweet in life,
As love's young dream:

No, there's nothing half so sweet in life,
As love's young dream.

Though the bard to purer fame may scar,
When wild youth's past;

Though he win the wise, who frown'd before,
To smile at last;

He'll never meet

A joy so sweet,

In all his noon of fame,

As when first he sung to woman's ear

His soul-felt flame,

And at every close, she blush'd to hear
The one loved name.

No, that hallow'd form is ne'er forgot
Which first love traced;

Still it lingering haunts the greenest spot
Qu memory's waste.

"T was odor fled

As soon as shed;

'T was morning's winged dream;
Twas a light that ne'er can shine again
On life's dull stream;

Oh! 't was light that ne'er can shine again
On life's dull stream.

ERIN, OH ERIN.

LIKE the bright lamp, that shone in Kildar's holy fane.
And burn'd thro' long ages of darkness and storm,
Is the heart that sorrows have frown'd on in vain,
Whose spirit outlives them, unfading and warın.
Erin, oh Erin, thus bright thro' the tears
Of a long night of bondage, thy spirit appears.

The nations have fallen, and thou still art young,

Thy sun is but rising, when others are set; And tho' slavery's cloud o'er thy morning hath hung The full noon of freedom shall beam round thee yet Erin, oh Erin, tho' long in the shade,

Thy star shall shine out when the proudest shall fade.

Unchill'd by the rain, and unwaked by the wind,
The lily lies sleeping thro' winter's cold hour,
Till Spring's light torch her fetters unbind,

And daylight and liberty bless the young flower.
Thus Erin, oh Erin, thy winter is past,

And the hope that lived thro' it shall blossom at last.

I'D MOURN THE HOPES.

I'D mourn the hopes that leave me,
If thy smiles had left me too,
I'd weep when friends deceive me,
If thou wert, like them, untrue.
But while I've thee before me,

With hearts so warm and eyes so bright,

No clouds can linger o'er me,

That smile turns them all to light.

"Tis not in fate to harm me,

While fate leaves thy love to me;
"T is not in joy to charm me,
Unless joy be shared with thee.
One minute's dream about thee
Were worth a long, an endless year

Of waking bliss without thee,
My own love, my only dear!

And though the hope be gone, love,
That long sparkled o'er our way,

Oh! we shall journey on, love,
More safely, without its ray."

Far better lights shall win me

Along the path I've yet to roam:

The mind that burns within me,

And pure smiles from thee at home