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The string that now languishes loose o'er the lyre,
Might have bent a proud bow to the warrior's dart;1
And the lip, which now breathes but the song of desire,
Might have pour'd the full tide of a patriot's heart.
But, alas for his country!-her pride has gone by,
And that spirit is broken, which never would bend;
O'er the ruin her children in secret must sigh,

For 'tis treason to love her, and death to defend.
Unprized are her sons, till they've learn'd to betray;

Undistinguish'd they live, if they shame not their sires; And the torch, that would light them through dignity's way, Must be caught from the pile where their country expires.

Then blame not the bard, if in pleasure's soft dream
He should try to forget what he never can heal;
Oh! give but a hope-let a vista but gleam

Through the gloom of his country, and mark how he'll feel!

Every passion it nursed, every bliss it adored,

That instant, his heart at her shrine would lay down;
While the myrtle, now idly entwined with his crown,

Like the wreath of Harmodius, should cover his sword.?
But though glory be gone, and though hope fade away,
Thy name, loved Erin, shall live in his songs;
Not even in the hour, when his heart is most gay,
Will he lose the remembrance of thee and thy wrongs.
The stranger shall hear thy lament on his plains;
The sigh of thy harp shall be sent o'er the deep,
Till thy masters themselves, as they rivet thy chains,
Shall pause at the song of their captive, and weep!

WHILE GAZING ON THE MOON'S LIGHT.

WHILE gazing on the moon's light,

A moment from her smile I turn'd,
To look at orbs, that, more bright,

In lone and distant glory burn'd.

1 It is conjectured by Wormius, that the name of Ireland is derived from Fr, the Runic for a bow, in the use of which weapon the Irish were once very expert. This derivation is certainly more creditable to us than the following:So that Ireland (called the land of Ire, for the constant broils therein for 400 years) was now become the land of concord."-Lloyd's State Worthies, art. the Lord Grandison.

8 See the Hymn, attributed to Alcaeus, Εν μυρτοι κλαδι το ξιφος φορηρω "I will carry my sword, hidden in myrtles, like Harmodius and Aristogiton," &c.

But, too far
Each proud star,

For me to feel its warming flame;
Much more dear

That mild sphere,

Which near our planet smiling came ;1
Thus, Mary, be but thou my own;
While brighter eyes unheeded play,
I'll love those moonlight looks alone,
That bless my home and guide my way.

The day had sunk in dim showers,
But midnight now, with lustre meet,
Illumed all the pale flowers,

Like hope upon a mourner's cheek.
I said (while

The moon's smile

Play'd o'er a stream, in dimpling bliss),
66 'The moon looks

On many brooks,

"2

The brook can see no moon but this;"
And thus, I thought, our fortunes run,
For many a lover looks to thee,
While oh! I feel there is but one,
One Mary in the world for me.

ILL OMENS.

WHEN daylight was yet sleeping under the billow,
And stars in the heavens still lingering shone,
Young Kitty, all blushing, rose up from her pillow,
The last time she e'er was to press it alone.

For the youth whom she treasured her heart and her soul in,
Had promised to link the last tie before noon;
And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen,
The maiden herself will steal after it soon.

1 "Of such celestial bodies as are visible, the sun excepted, the single moon, as despicable as it is in comparison to most of the others, is much more beneficial than they all put together."-Whiston's Theory, &c.

In the Entretiens d'Ariste, among other ingenious emblems, we find a starry sky without a moon, with the words, " Non mille quod absens."

This image was suggested by the following thought, which occurs somewhere in Sir William Jones's works:-" The moon looks upon many night flowers, the night flowers see but one moon.”

[graphic]

BEFORE THE BATTLE.

"O'er his watch-fire's fading embers,

Now the foeman's cheek turns white."-P. 221.

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