Perhaps thou wert a mason, and forbidden In Memnon's statue, which at sunrise played? Perhaps thou wert a priest-if so my struggles Are vain, for priestcraft never owns its juggles. Perchance that very hand, now pinioned flat, Or dofted thine own to let Queen Dido pass, I need not ask thee if that hand, when armed, Thou couldst develop, if that withered tongue Might tell us what those sightless orbs have seen, How the world looked when it was fresh and young, And the great Deluge still had left it green; Or was it then so old, that history's pages Still silent, incommunicative elf! Art sworn to secrecy? then keep thy vows, But prithee tell us something of thyself; Reveal the secrets of thy prison-house; Since in the world of spirits thou hast slumbered, What hast thou seen-what strange adventures numbered? Since first thy form was in this box extended, We have, above-ground, seen some strange mutations; The Roman empire has begun and ended, New worlds have risen-we have lost old nations, And countless kings have into dust been humbled, Whilst not a fragment of thy flesh has crumbled. Didst thou not hear the pother o'er thy head, When the great Persian conqueror, Cambyses, Marched armies o'er thy tomb with thundering tread, O'erthrew Osiris, Orus, Apis, Isis, And shook the pyramids with fear and wonder, If the tomb's secrets may not be confessed, A heart has throbbed beneath that leathern breast, face? What was thy name and station, age and race? Statute of flesh-immortal of the dead! And standest undecayed within our presence, Thou wilt hear nothing till the Judgment morning, When the great trump shall thrill thee with its warning. Why should this worthless tegument endure, In living virtue, that, when both must sever, Although corruption may our frame consume, The immortal spirit in the skies may bloom. THE SHANDON BELLS. REV. FRANCES MAHONEY-(FATHER PROUT.) With deep affection And recollection, I oft think of Those Shandon bells, Whose sounds so wild would, Of the river Lee. I've heard bells chiming, Cathedral shrine; Spoke nought like thine; Its bold notes free, Of the river Lee. From the Vatican; |