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"""""""" beauties of btron . so . xvi . " CBIZVS HASOLD . " Tlie famous stanzas on the Battle of Waterloo im- \ wr ^ liT follow those given in our last . These 5 icre ^ published in this paper of the 2 Sth of tZhst-it is therefore unnecessary to repeat them i hTtue ' -reat battle Byron had a friend killed f vri r IIowakii } , whose loss lie celebrates in the foliSs SS-d beautilbUines :- , Ihwc lave been tenrs and breaking hearts for thee , ! Kni wins were nothing , had I such to give ; Bat wlud > I stood licueath the fresh green tree , Which living waves where thou didst cease to live , Alld saw -.. round me the wide field revive With fruits a «« l fertUe F 0 Ulise > and u * e Spring Come forth l > cr work of gladness to contrive , ¦ Wj th all her reckKss birds upon the wing , I turnM from all she brought to those she could not hring .
The tree will « M «* lon S ^ orc fall ; The hull drives on , though mast and sail be torn ; The roof-tree sinks , but moulders on the hall In inassv hoariness ; the ruined wall Stands when Us wind-worn battlements are gone ; The bars survive the captive they enthrall ; The d ; iv drags through though storms keep out the sun ; \ na tlius tJie heart will break , yet brokenly live on ; Even as a broken mirror , which the glass In evt-rv lragmeut multiplies ; and makes X thousand images of one that was , Tie same , and still the more , the more it breaks ; _ 4 n < l Ik " tl > e heart will do which not forsakes , LUU ' S in shattered guise , aud still , and cold , And Woodless , with Us sleepless sorrow aches , Yet withers on till all without is old , Shon-ins no visible sign , for such things are untold .
The subject of Waterloo induces the following reflections on the fallen Gallic conqueror , who , it must be remembered , was yet living , and , in spite of his hopeless exile , still caused considerable uneasiness to his xanquishers . Magnificent In thought anil words is the poet ' s conception of the character of
NAFOLEON . There sunfc the greatest , not the worst of men , Whose spirit antithetical !} ' inixt One moment of the mightiest , and again On little objects with like firmness fist , Extreme in all things ! liadst thou been betwixt , Thy throne had still been thine , or never been ; For daring made thy rise as fall : thou seek'st Even now to re-assume tue imperial mien And shake again the world , the Thunderer of the scene ! Conqueror and captive of the earth art tlieu ! She trembles at thee still , aud thy wild name Was ne'er more bruited in men ' s minds than now That thou art nothing , save the jest of Fame , "Who wooM thee once , thy vassal , and became The flatterer of thy fierceness , till thou wert A god unto thyself ; nor less the same To the astounded kingdoms all inert , \ fhoaeem'd thee for a time whate v er thou didst assert .
Ob , wore or less than man—in high or low , Battling with nations , flying from the field—How iijakjnjmonarclis * necks thy footstool , now If ore than tliv meanest soldier taught to yield : An empire thou couldst crush , command , rebuild , But govern not thy pettiest passion , nor , However deeply in men ' s spirits skill'd , look through thine own , nor curb the lust of war , >< o-learn that tempted Fate will leave the loftiest Star Tet well thy svul hath brook'd the turning tide TVith that untaught innate philosophy , Which , be it wisdom , coldness , or deep pride , Is gall aud wormwood to an enemy .
When the whole host of hatred stood bard by , To watch and mock the shrinking , thou hast smiled With a si-date and all-enduring eye;—¦ TFheu Fortune fled her spoil'd and favourite child , Qe stood unbew'd beneath the ills upon himpil'd . Sa-, cr than in thy fortunes ; for in them Ambition stcel'd thee on too far to shew That just habitual scorn , -which could contemn lieu and tlieir thoughts ; ' twas wise to feel , not so To wear it evar on thy lips and brow , Aud spurn the instruments thou wert to use Til ! they were turnM uuto thine overthrow ; Tis hut a worthless world to win or loose ; So hath it proved to thee and all such lot who choose .
If , like a tower upon a headlong rock , Thou badst been made to stand or fall alone , Socli scorn of man had help'd to brave the shock ; lutBian ' s thoughts were the steps which paved throne , Tlieir admiration thy best weapon shone ; The part of Piiilip ' s sou was thine , not then ( Unless aside thy purple had been thrown } , like sttr . i Diojjeues to mock at men ; Furscqiired cynics Earth were far too wide a den . But ijvntuo quick bosoms is a heli , And tlivrt ham been thy bane ; there is a fire . And niutiun of the soul which will not dwell Iiiittonn narrow being , but aspire UiyvaA the fining medium of desire ; And , lint once kindled , quenchless ever more , Vros njmn Irish adventure , nor can tire Hut aught of rest : a fever at the core , . Fatal to him who bears , to all who ever bore .
Tijif mafces tlie madmen who have made men mau % their contagion , conquerors aud kings , founders of srets and systems , to whom add Sophists , Hards , Statesmen , all unquiet things Wlndi siir too strongly the soul's recret springs , And are themselves the fools to those they fool ; Enrlvd , jcthow unenviable ! what stings Are theirs ! One breast laid open were a school Wiieu would unleach mankind the lust to shine or rule Thrir breath is agitation , and their life Astjrm wlicreon Ujry ride , to sink at lust , AllS yet so Hurst and liijjytted to Strife , That should their days , surviving perils past ,
JItltto calm twilight , they feel overcast Witfi sorrow and supiutness , and so die ; Er « i as a ilame unfed , wiiicu runs to waste TJTith its Gun flUktriiig , or a sword laid by , " " iiich eats into V . self and rusts iugloriously . Be who ascends to mountain tops shall find The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow ; lie who surpasses or subdues mankind Must look duwnon the hate of those below . Though high dboec the suu of glory glow , And far beneath the earth and ouean spread , Hound him are icy rocks , and loudlr blow Cuut » : nd iig tempests on his naked ' head , And ibus reward the toils which to those summits led
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WE l'UUGAJOKY OF SUICIDES . A Pbisox 1-jiimb is To- Looks . Bv Tnoius Cooper , the Uartift . London : J . How , 132 , PJeet-street .
( Cmtitmt'l from the Star of October 18 th J The seventh book is by no means to our liking ; mstcad of continuing the discussion resumed in the sixth book , the poet flies off to the collecting of the spirits of other suicides to take part in the ghostly uEuaic . The reader will remember that in the first book is commenced the discussion on the state and destiny of mankind , winch discussion is abruptly cWd or " adjourned , " iu order to allow of other spirits swing summoned to take part in the debate . The four following books arc occupied with the " bringing up" of the spirits invited to the discussion , aui ) in the sixth bjok the discussion is re-opened .
We naturalJy expected to fiud the discussion continued in the seventh book ; but , instead of this , the poet takes another ghostly cruise to collect more speakers or listeners for tlie grand debate . This is bad arrangement . Tic matter of this book too is decidedly inferior , although nothing else could be expected , When such worthies as Sothokics , Tigeuixcs , Pe-IHoxhs Arbiter , Ancics , Vhieseffe , JionDATJXi , and Lv . 5 ii . ey -are the characters introduced : certainly these names arc Jiot very inspiring . As usual , the reflective passages in which the pcet speaks in propia Virsmma are the best . The following stanzas open the "book : "—
London 1 how imaginable seems the strife Of th y huge crowds amid this solitude ! IusUvw : t . xvi 11 xuot , lieart-rev « oas ihrohbin" life—Jtaccre for Mammon—day by dav renewed—Quick , motley actors in Mind ' s interlude—They ilit before me ; or , again , I walk TfonuCT-lostless with glare and ma gnitude Of mindless things tl , an human Shapes that stalk Through thy vast wilderness of ways , and , smiling , talk "With their own wretchedness which lmih estranged Tiem from tlieir kind , but cannot stifle dreams " That Beggary ' s rags shall , one day , be exchanged For Grandeur ' s robes , and fortune ' s favouring beams Gild their last hours . These , these , amid thy streams Of populousness , thy lavish shews of pride , And pomp , and equipage , -were living themes For healthiest thought that did my folly ehiue 3 Vlien I along thy streets , a gazing ' venturer , hied .
OU ! if t ! ie heart doth crave for loneliness , Deep in thy crowded desait it may find Its drear wish realised . In Misery ' s dress—Their blighted visages to humankind A pregnant lesson , but their names enshrined , Perchance in secresy—how stealthily Such ncrmits of the heart glide ou behind The bustling meu of gain , or groups of glee That swell thy blended throngs of thrift and gaiety : Oft have I followed such a stealthy form , To mark his whereabout of rest or home , Until he plunged into some hauut where swarm—In dingy dens , that shadow forth the gloom Of hiarts within—what the World calls its " scum "Victims of gilded fraud , and titled lust , And pensioned knavery J "Will it e ' er come—The hour when Man shall venture to be just , And dare to give true names unto his fellow-dust ! Age after age hath j . azed the eager throng—As , now , I seem , again , ta see it gate- *
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Heedless of moral worth , or right or wrong , "While haughty Pomp unclosed its newest blaze Of tear . wrung splendour i aud , perchance , io praise Of garish shew , blame for great gold misspent Hath followed , as it follows now : yet , raise The trump of pageantry—and ears are lent B y thousands who lisp scorn for Time ' s old rabblement ! Will knowledge , freedom , moral growth of man , Strip off these swaddling-bands of gauze—these chains Of gossamer t Thi = baby-talismnn—Will it much longer charm the child of pains And sweat , to leave his bread-toil ? Oil ! there reigns Of strength in Labour ' s millions , a young breath That gaunt Starvation quells not—but sustains ! "Where , now , my memory wanders , may Us wrath If e ' er burst!—Monarch ;—adown thy stately palace-uath
I saw thee on the day thou wast a bride—And shouted , ' mid my joy-tears , with the crovrd : — Thou Avert a woman—and thou satt ' st beside Thy bosom's choice—while happiness o ' erflowed Thy heart , and in thy f » ir young countenance glowed Beholding thine , what could I less than feel A sympathetic joy f Aye , though a proud Worship of England ' s stem old Commoivweal Was mine—for thee , that day , I breathed devotion leal , And many a heart , yielding , that festive day , To Nature ' s impulses of hope and joy , Confiding , blessed thee ! Queen ! if thou delay Tobelp thy Poor—if thou , thyself , destroy The promise of that time , and harsh alloy
Of blame with memory of our joy now blend"What marvel ? Hopes , that do the lieart upbuoy , Turned to despair by suftVings slighted , rend All gentle feelings in their way to some dire end . When next thou passeth by Whitehall , look up , I pray thee , and remember who felt there Tlie fatal axe ! Aye , look!—nor be the dupe Of tinselled traitors who would tliee ensnare To ease and grandeur , till—thy People ' s prayer For justice all too long delayed—they rise With that old lieart the Stuart to despair Drove , first— and , then , to vengeance ! Hunger cries Throughou thy realm— " Queen ! from the fearful Pastbe - wise !"
I know that tellers of plain truths are " Goths " And " savages" in tlieir esteem who haunt The halls of royalty—the pageant moths That flutter in thy buains—the sycophant , The beau , the corouetted mendicant : — Yet , speak 1 not from brutal nature;—nor Is thirst for -violence fell habitant Of Labour's childrtn ' s hearts . Queen ! they who store Thy mind with such belief wrong grievously thy Poor ! Believe one born amid their daily toils And sighs—and , since , observant of the words And deeds of those who live on Labour ' s spoils : — Thy Poor , it is—and not their haughty lords—In whose hearts vibrate gentle Nature ' s chords Of tenderness for thee—ev'n while they groan With deepest wrongs . " We suffer by tlie hordes "Of selfish ones , " they say , "that hide the throne : " If s 7 ie could know our woes—we should not , vainly , moan ! "
Lady ! ' tis thus the hunger-bitten ones Their simple , lingering trust in thee express : — Let thy heart answer , ' mid superb saloons Aud soldiered pomp with truth and faithfulness—If thou deserv ' st this trust from comfortless And bread-pinched millions ! Wouldst thou read aright Thy glory ? Seek to he the heritress Of love deserved—choosing , with noble slight Of gauds , to make the Poor ' s heart-smile thy sole delight . Alas ! in vain thus breathes a rebel thrall Fond wish that , now a thousand yeats hive rolled , To Alfred's land it might , once more , befall That suu of human g lories to behold—A monarch scorning blood-stained gauds and gold , To build the throne in a blest People ' s love ! It may not be ! Custom , soul-numbing , cold , Her web hath round thue , from thy cradle wove : — Can heart of a born-thrall with pulse of Freedom move 1
Deadly , wind-blighting influences begird Thee daily , hourly : 'tis thy lot . A gaol Is mine . Thus far , our lot how like I—the herd Of titled , starred , and sworded things , that fail Xotto enclose thee in their watchful pale , Are hut thy chief and uuder-tumkeys . Thou Ey birth , for life—and I , by f ovce—this bale Of bondage prove , ltebel , or Queen , we bow Alike to circumstance : our mould to it we owe . The somewhat dull dialogue in which the spirits of Messrs . MoEDAUxr . Pjsrnoxius . Aricius . andCo . cngage , is interrupted by the appearance of the famed Robert Le Diable , who makes his appearance to summon them to the grand debate . In the course of his address Lis opera derilship discourses not amiss , as
witness the lollowmg : — I tell ye that on earth all natural ill Ucgias to yield to science : fell disease Is chicked—aud men shall soon begin to fill Th' expansive measure of tlieir days . The seas Already own tlie power of Mind : with ease lieu vault above tlie wave , fearii . g no rage Of giant storms . On land , the very breeze That vital is , they hold in vassalage , And yoke , by viewless chains , unto the thought-winged sledge . " 3 Iindgl 3 ws and fulmiues even in the clown ; And men from yoke conventional and old Shake themselves free : the crosier and the crown , The sword aud guu , all meu begin to hold
For useless and pernicious things , and bold The very peasants be to laugh uloud At swollen names of gew-gaw shapes in go ! 3 . Think ye that changes such as these forbodc Xo change for Hades , aud her kings and pomp-thrones proud ? I tell ye , Cliangc hath tome : judgment condign Haili fallen on the essences ot kings Wlio raged to hear deep sage aud bard divine Tell , iu prophetic strain , pomp-glisterings ShoulJ pass away , aud spir it-lioiuagings Be paid to Jlind and Goodness . Where the bow Of promise skieth mystic symbollings Of monarch-splendour , forfeiture I saw Of thrones , while congregated ghost-kings shook with atve . ( To he continued . )
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THE BALLAD POETRY OF IRELAND . Edited by Cium . ES Gxrxs Durri . Dublin : Duffy , Anglcsea-street . The contents of this work are leas objectionable than , judging by its title , and the political reputation ofAlr . Dcwr , we had expected . As the proprietor of the Nation newspaper , Air . Dcrrr is well luiown as tlte ardent : md unscrupulous advocate oi what is called " Irish Nationality . " We say " unscrupulous advocate , " for Mr . Dufft , through Ms taper , has not scrupled to employ the most detestable means to effect the end himself , and the party associated with him liave in view . In proof of this we only need remind our readers , that from the day tlie first number ofthe . A « t « m appearedto the present time , a
sys-, tematic hostility towards England , Englishmen , and all that is English , has been unceasingly preached up bv the writers in that paper . From the days of the invasion by Sikosgbow , to the present time , every fact and every fable belonging to Irish history , or Irish tradition , calculated to tell against England , has been industriously raked up to excite the hatred of Irishmen against Englishmen . Week after week have we had served up the thousand times told tales of Wexfovd slaughters , Mullaghmast massacres , breaches of Limerick treaties , &c , which things occurred generations and generations ago , yet are now revived for the fiendish purpose of exciting animosity against the present generation of Englishmen . Nor have the writers in the Nation at all distinguished
between the acts of the Norman oppressors ot the Saxon people of England , aud the people themselves . Even when denouncing present oppression , it is never the Englisl } Government as contradistinguished from the English people , on whom falls tlie weight of Irish denunciation ; it is always " England" and the " Saxon" who are the objects of " Young Ireland ' s " wrath . Of course this is quite consistent with the declared object of Mr . Dufft and his friends , that of separating Ireland from England . Everybody in England now understands perfectly well what '' Irish nationality" means—it moans Ireland independent , separate , and hostile . The blarney of that consummate charlatan O'Coxxeu . — " the golden link of the crown" uniting the two countries , is understood by
every one in England to be unadulterated fudge . Once a Parliament in College-green , the " golden link" would soon be snapt . This would trouble us but little , provided another sort of link bound the two countries t -gethcr—the link of common brotherhood—that , however , Mr . Dum * and Co . are doing their best to render impossible . It must be admitted that Mr . Duffy and his friends appear ma favourable light when contrasted with O'Coxxeu . : the former we believe to be honest in their professed desire to re-establish the nationality of Ireland , but 0 Cosxell has no suck desire ; his sole ambition is to maintain his rule as chief mountebank on his " conciliation stage , and plunder to their last far thing the v ; retclied dupes who witness his antics aud applaud his ravings . His creed and bis rule
is"If humbug'd thus the rabble choose to be , "Why let them , since it brings the chink to me ; There ' s none so blind as those who will not see !" Mr . DcFFr , on the other hand , we believe to be thoroughly in earnest in his hatred of England , and in his desire to make Ireland a " nation ; " he is therefore quite consistent in doing his utmost , whether by prose or poetry , fact or fiction , to inspire his countrymen with hatred of the land he regards as an enemy . Quite consistent too is he in labouring to inspire them with the barbaric thirst for " glory , " in Celebrating the victories of Irishmen from Clontarf to Fontenoy . Ho matter whether it was to serve Ireland or despotism : whether it was to beat back the Dau . es , drive out the English , re-establish the tyrant Charles , restore the imbecile James , or extend the infernal despotism of the French Louis ; no matter whether the Irish fought as patwots , slaves , or mercenaries , their " victories" have been recited and iieltl up for admiration and imitation by the p < je& of , the SaiiKu This is nr $ ajj ; i ! j . piirsuyi
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Ani gle&n'd each grej legend that darkly was sleeping Where the mist antt the rain where their beauty or creeping . Least bard of the hills ! wero it mine to inherit The fire of thy harp , and wing of thy spirit ; With the wrongs wliieh , liko thee , to our country has bound me , 1 M jour mautle of song fling its radiance around me . Still , still , on those wilds might young Liberty rally , And send her strong shouts over mountain and valley ; The star of the west mi ght yet rise iu its glory , And the liind that was darkest be brightest ill story . I , too , shall be gone—but my name shall be spoken When Erin awnkes , and her fetters are broken ; Some minstrel shall come , in the summer-eve ' s gleaming , When freedom ' s young light on his spirit is beaming , And bend o ' er my gravo with a tear of emotion : Where calm Avon-Buce seeks the kisses of ocean , Or plant a Mild wreath , from the banks of that river , O ' er the heart , and the harp , that are sleeping for ever .
It is OUl' opinion that tlie following ballad is the most truly beautiful in the book ; the man who can read it witk an unmoistened eye is not to be envied : — LAMENT OF TUB IRISH EM 1 G 1 UKT . Ill THE BON . MHS . Plll CU BLACKWOOD . I'M sittin'on the stile , Mary , Where we sat side by side On the bright May mornin' long ago , When first you were my bride : Th « corn was springiu fresh and green , And the lark saug loud aud high—And the red was on your lip , Mary , And the love-light in jour eve .
The place is little changed , Mary , The day is bright as then , The lark ' s loud song is in my ear . And the corn is green again ; But I miss the soft clasp of your hand , And your breath , warm on my cheek , And I still keep list ' nin' for the words , You never inoro will speak . 'lis but a step down yonder lane , And the little church stands near , The church win re we were wed , Mary , I see the spire from hero . But the grave-yard lies between , Mary , And my step might break your rest—For I ' ve laid you , darling ! down to sleep "With your baby on your breast , I ' m very lonely now , Mary ,
Tor the poor make no new friends , Hut , oh ! they love the better still , The tew our Father sends ! And you were all / had , Mary , Aly blessiu' and my pride ; There's nothin' leJt to care for now . Since my poor Alary died , Your's was the good , brave lieart , Mary , That still kept hoping on , "When tins trust in God had left my soul , And my arm ' s young strength was gone ; There was conilort ever on your lip , And the kind look on jour brow—I bless you , Mary , for that same , Though you csuuot hum- me now . I thank you for the patient smile
When your heart was fit to break , When the hunger-pain was gna win' there , And you hid it , lor my sake ! I bless you for the pleasmit word , When your lieart was sad and sore—Oil 1 I'm thankful you are gone , Mary , Where grief can ' t reach you more ! I ' m biddin ' you a long farewell , My Mary—kind and true ! , But I'll uot forget you , darling ! In the land I ' m goin' to ; Thoy say there ' s bread and work for all , And the sun shines always there—But I'll not forget old Ireland , Were it fifty times as fair !
And often in those grand old woods I'll sit , and shut my eyes , And my heart will travel back again To thu place where Mary lies : And I'll think I see the little stile Where we sat side by side : And the springiu' corn , and the bright Slay morn , When first you were my bride . We fully agree with Mr . Dufft , ¦ that " some of Griffin ' s simple ballads are gushes ot feeling that smite the heart like the cry of a woman . Such is his " Gille Machine" a strain of the noblest sentiment in the simplest language : —
GILLE MACIIREE . BY GERALD OR 1 EF 1 S , Author of " The Collegians , " &c . [ Gerald Griffin stands in the first rank of Irish novelists . If the natural bent of his genius had not been crossed by weak counsel and bafned hopes , he might have become our greatest native poet , l ' oetry was uis iuav tua ^ i . „« :, „ , and he loved it to the last ; but it was a passion only , it never became an art to him . While lie was still a boy drifting in his boat on the Shannon , and planning a career of great achievements , lie had already designed a SCl'il'S Of tragedies , to which it i 9 now certain his powers were fully adequate . J 3 ut a lite of feverish anxieties , of slavish drudgery for London booksellers and London newspapers , of killing uncertainty and disappointments , aggravated
by lus own anxious and sensitive nature , left him no leisure for the development of his great designs . After toiling for ton yssn's he retreated from tlie world , took refuge in the society of Christian Brothers , and devoted himself to works of morality and education , till a fever fell upon him in 1810 , of which he died in the prime of his powers . Since his death one of the tragedies designed in his boyhood , and completed among the tumult of his distracting engagements , was produced on the London stage , and pronounced to be " the greatest drama of our times . " His poems have been since collected in a volume , and attained to instant popularity . These were hut fragments of his projected works . But they afford sure indications that if it had been his fate to live at home , iu peace , honour , and enjoyment , his attainment to the first place among our dramatic poets , was easy and certain . ]
GV . U wachrce , * Sit down by me We now are joined and ne ' er shall sever ; This hearth ' s our own Our hearts are one And peace is ours for ever ! When I was poor , Your father ' s door Was closed against your constant lover ; With care and pain , ¦ - I tried in vain My fortunes to recover . I said , " To other lands I'll roam , Where Fate may smile on me , love ;" I said , " farewell , my own old home !" And I said , " Farewell to thee , love !" Sing Gille moc / ivce , &c .
I might have said , My mountain maid , Come live with me , your own true lover ; I know a spot , A silent cot , Your friends can ne ' er discover , Where gently flows the waveless tide By one small garden only ; Where the heron waves his wings so wide , And the linnet sings so lonely . ' Sing Gille mach-ce , ite .
I might have said , My mountain maid , A . father ' s right was never given True hearts to curse With tyrant force That have been blest in heaven . But then , I said , " In after years , When thoughts of homo shall iiud hev My love may mourn with secret tears Her friends , thus left behind her . " Sing Gille machree , < ke .
Oh , no , I said , My own dear maid , For me , though all forlorn , for ever That heart of thine Shall ne ' er repine O ' er slighted duty—never . From home and thee though wandering fav A dreary fate be mine , love ; I'd rather live in endless war , Than buy my peace with thine , love . Sing Gille machree , die , '
Far , far away , By night and day , I toiled to win a golden treasure ; And golden gains Repaid my paina In fair and shining measure . I sought again my native land , Thy father welcomed , me , love ; I poured my gold into his liand , And my guerdon found iu thee , love ; Sing GUU machree Sit down by me , We now are joined , and ne ' er shall sever ; This hearth ' s our own , Our hearts are one , And peace is ours for ever .
In conclusion we should state that this volume of " Ballad Poetry" is one of a series of monthly volumes now issuing under the title of " Dufty ' s Library of Ireland . " The volumes are published monthly , and sold for a shilling . This volume is the only one of the series we have seen . It is beautifully printed , and deserves , what it will doubtless have , a very extensive circulation . Protesting against Mr . DubjVs " nationality " -inania , we nevertheless warmly recommend this work to our readers .
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A Scene . '—A young man , visiting Nottingham for the pleasures of the Jate lair , having a taste for theatricals , saw a board outside one of the strolling theatres . During the day , he applied to the manager to give him permission to take a part in the piece , assuring him that he was tniite competent . Permission was granted accordingly , and when the time came for his appearance , he strutted forth and commenced , '' I am the King of Bohemia ! " " You ' re a - —; you're , the barber ' s son , of Radford , " shouted one of the audience ( who proved to bo an old acquaintance of his Ahjeslv ) , and , amidst roars of aughter , the Bohemian monarch made l ) is exit , uttering throats of vengeance .
_ A Nice Point . —The Bishop of Exeter has given it as his opinion that a clergyman speculating in railways comes under the statute asrainst " dealing lor gain or profit . " As the statute onlv says dealing-—and railway speculation involves rather shuffling " \ an dealing—some of the reverend Stags maintain that they do not violate the Act of Parliament . — Punch . _ Jonathan Outkivali . kd . —Isle op Wight—The inhabitants of the eastern part of our island have long been celebrated for their sagacity , and the natives of Saint Helen ' s have recently discovered a successful method of catching rabbits in the night , which certainly by no means diminishes their previously acquired celebritv . It annears that havinsc
secured a number of the crustacean species , whicii are vulgarly denominated in the island " King Crabs , " they affix about an inch of candle to their backs , and send them crawling into the rabbits' burrows ; the animals being alarmed at tlie appearance of their enlightened visitors , make a speedy exit , and are immediately captured by the . invaders . The plan is far preferable to the old method which is practiced on the southern coast . The Nitton Gentlemen scatter a quantity of snuff at the mouth of their holes , covering it with green parsley , of which the game is remarkably fond . On partaking of tllC ( MI ' Clous herbage , they are seized with such a fit of
sneezing that they invariably beat their brains out against the rocks , but are by these violent means rendered unfit for market . —Hampshire Independent . Rather Difficult . —A member of tho Vermont Legislature rising to reply to a very frothy and ignorant orator on the other side , said— " Mr . Speaker , I can ' t reply to that ' ere speech , for it always wrenches me terribly to kick at nothing . " A Shocking Saint !—St . Goderic , according to the Romish Calendar , was a severe anchorite recluse ; he wore an iron shirt next his skin , and wore out three by constant use . He mingled ashes with his flour , and kept it for months before he ate it .
MOB MELODIES . ( From the Tyne Mercury . ) " For the patience with which they endured their sufferings , the people deserved all praise and admiration . " —Sir Robert Peel ' s Speech , im . "If any wau should take viands to satisfy his present hunger , this is no felony or larceny . "—Lord Bacon ' s Law Tracts . Tune— " Miss Bailey ' s Ghost . " In days of old , as we are told , as long as they were able , The man was deck'dm most respect v » hs > lived mostcomfortable . But now , alas . ' it comes to pass they ' ve ta ' en to praise starvation , And those who die most quietly get " praise and admiration . " " Praise and admiration ' . Praise and admiration' . " Yea , those who die most quietly , get " Praise and admiration !"
'Tis sure amiss when stuff like this for doctrine sage is taken , Be it our plan to praise the man , so well ' yclept Lord Bacon 1 lie knew lus trade ; and thus he said , as plain as words could make it , '' If Beef enow don't come to you , then go to it—and take it !" Go to it—and take it , go to it—and take it . " "If Beef enow don't come to you , e ' en go to it—and take it !"
To make good laws deserves applause ; and of all things iu nature Wo may well rest the very best is a wise legislator ! But nil their Acts must look to Facts , if they have any good in ; Alld lawyers Still , foi ! " Preamble , " must give -us Beef and Pudding , Must give us Beef and Pudding . —give us Beef and Pudding—The lawyers still , for " Preamble , " must give us Beef and Pudding . A Briton ' s maw won't live on law , or no such windy ration ; "We don ' t get on—not e'en with constitutional starvation ! And comfort small we see at all in such unholy lent , sirs , Tho ' folks observe that we so starve by "Act of Parliament , ' .. Sirs , " Act of Parliament , " sirs ! " Act of Parliament "
Tho ' folks observe , that we so siw ^ , i . « &nl . of Parliament , " Sirs . For statutes 6 age if you ' ve a rage , turn over without murmur , Until you fall on bluff King Hal ,. " the Protestant Keformer ;" "No fasts for me , " exclaimed he , determined still to cut O" ! By day Of night my men sliall fight on "Beef , Potb , " Venl , and Mutton !" "Beef , Pork , Veal , and Mutton ! " "Beef , Pork ,
Veal , and Mutton !" By day or night , my men shall fight on " Beef , Pork , Veal , and Mutton !" Then let ' s cry " Tuts ! " when grumbling guts for benefits are taken , And make it our plan to praise the man , so well ' yclept Lord Bacon , He knew the law ; and here ' s his saw , as plain as words can make it"If beef enow don ' t come to you , e ' en go to it , and—take , it !"
"Go to it , and—take it ! go to it , and—take it !" " If beef enow don't come to you , e ' en go to it , and—take it !" Calf Skin . —A young fop , who had just begun to shave lor a beard , stepped into a barber ' s shop , and , after a grand swagger , desired to be shaved . The barber went through the usual movement , and the young sprig jumped up with a flourish , exclaiming , " Maw foine fellow , what ' s your charge ? " " Oh , no charge , " was the reply . " No charge ! how ' s that ?" " Why , we are always thankful when we can get soft calfskin to whet our razors on . " " Odds and Eves . "—A sailor having purchased some medicine of a doctor , demanded the price . " WIiy . " said the doctor . " I cannot charge you Ies 3
than seven and sixpence . " " Well , I'll tell you what , " replied the sailor , " take off the odds , and I'll pay you the even . " " Well , " returned the doctor , " we won't quarrel about trifles . " The sailor laid down sixpence , and was walking off , when the doctor reminded him of his mistake . "No mistake at all , sir ; six is even and seven is odd all the world over ; so I wish you a good day . " "Get you gone , " said the doctor , * ' I ' ve made fourpence outof youyet . " A Yaxkee Du . v . —A gentleman from New York , who had been in Boston fjr tho purpose of collecting some money due to him in that city , was about returning , when he found that one bill of one hundred dollars had been overlooked . Ilis landlord , who knew the debtor , thought it a "doubtful case ; " but added , that if it was collectable at all , a tall ,
rawboned Yankee , then dunning a lodger in another part of the house , would " annoy it out of the man . " Calling him up , therefore , he introduced him to the creditor , who showed him the account . "Walt ' square , 'taint much use tryin' I guess . I know that critter . You might as well try to squeeze ile out of Bunte-MU monument as to e'lect adebt o . Mm . Bub anyhow , what do you give me s ' posin I do try V " Well , sir . the bill is one hundred dollars . I'll give you—yes , I'll give you half , if you can collect it . " " Greed ! " replied the collector ; there ' s no harm in tvMin , any way . " Some weeks after the creditor chanced to be in Boston ; and . in walking up / - Fremont-street , happened to encounter his enterprising friend . " Look ' e here ! " said the Yankee , "I had r-nnsidnrable luck with that bill of your'h . You see
I stuck to him like a dog to a root ; but for the first week or so 'tvvant no use—not a bit ! If he wasn't at home , he was short ; and if he was at lieine , I could get no satisfaction . By-atid-bye , says I , after going sixteen times , I'll fix you ; so I set down on the door-step , and sot all day and part of the evenin ' , and began airly next day ; but about ten o ' cleck lie gin . in . lie paid me my half , and I gin him up the note I " Irish Evidence . — " Pray , my good man , " said a judge to an Irishman , who was a witness on a trial , " what did pass between you and the prisoner ?" " 0 , then , plase your lordship , " says Pat , " sure I sees Phelim a top of the wall . ' Paddy , ' says he ; What V says I ; ' Here , ' says he j ' Where V says I ; 'Whist !' says he ; 'Hush ! ' says I ; and that ' s all , plase yer lordship . " *
MONSTROUS . —The John o' Groat Journal has an account of a large take of whales amounting to 1540 » by the Zetlanders . The paper , however , fails to say whether any " gnashing of teeth" accompaniedao muck " wailing . "—Jot Miller . The Political Tom Thu . mb . —The greatest little man in Europe has arrived in England in the shape of Monsieur Thiers , ex-Premier of France , rank republican , and editor of the Nationnel . This visit of M . Thiers we regard as a crying evil . Of course , he will be lionised through our dockyards , have honours paid liim-at Dray ton , and—be received by John Bull in : any shape but that of his real one , namely , the bitterest political enemy we possess on the continent ; Really , these repeated French visits assume an air of suspicion more serious than pleasant . The fact Of our coast being so bare is unbearable , and Joe Miller warns Sir R . Peel that precaution cornea too late when the mischief is accomplished . —tUd .
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• properly Gilt mo midhe , i , e , « whiteness of . my heart , "
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of his darling " nationality , " Mr . Duffi- and bis party contemplate the restoring oi' the old Irish language in sabstitution of the English tongue now generally speken , " with variations , " throughout Ireland . This surely is the sublime of absurdity . As well might George Wisinsoios have set about restoring the language of the aborigines of America , or as well might Joseph Mazzixi propose the restoration of the Latin tongue as the language of the people of Italy , as one of the means for restoring the liberties ot his country . Indeed , such a proposition would nave much more of reason in it than has the proposition of Mr . Duffy and his friends ; the Latin tongue has been , and is yet to a great extent , the universal language of the educated
classes , but can the same be said of the Irish language ? No ! But this design is something more than absurd , it is wicked ; it is an attempt to make civilization retrogress . The !' confusion of tongues" is tlie worst curse under which mankind labour , it serves to make strangers and enemies of even those who , by their position , are neighbours , and should be brothers . The advance of civilization has , as regards a few nations , corrected this evil . The English , the Welsh , the Scotch , the Irish , and the North-Americans , now generally speak but one tongue . Mr . Duffy would isolate Ireland ; be would have his countrymen speak a language whicii no other nation in the world could comprehend . Instead of this , if tor . Duff * was a true patriot , he would
ratlier labour to make the nations of one language and one speech . We are convinced that universal freedom and universal brotherhood , and tho consequent ending of senseless wars am \ bnttal conquests , is only attainable through the adoption of some language whicii shall be spoken by all nations . We care net whether it be the English , the French , the German , or any other language , so that there be some one tongue agreed upon . Even Irish , if that was practicable , we would just as soon have it as any other ; but we suppose Air . Duffy , even in his wildest dreams , does not anticipate more than the restoration of Irish as a local language . Id needs not , however , the gift of prophecy to foretel , that even in that anticipation he will , happily for the
human race , be disappointed . We have said that Mr . Jiurrr is honest . He IS , WC btTlCVC , llOllCStly tlie exponent of his own prejudices , and the champion of his own class . But what would he do for the working class ? His cry is , " Ireland for the Irish ;" that is , the Irish aristocracy , the Irish middle-class , and the Irish priesthood , but not the Irish workingclass , the veritable people . There would be _ a parliament in College-green , a resident aristocracy , the Irish language restored , statues of King Datiiv and King Dan , IJiuan Boms and Smith O'Bkien (' . ); a , " national flag , " and plenty of the "glory" and " poetry " of " nationality ; " there would be all these under the mw regime , yet the working classes would be as void of a country as they are now . Mr . Duffv and his
friends would not even give the people a voice in thu choosing of the country ' s legislators—at least , if they would they have not the courage to avow their intentions ; and as to a radical reform of social arrangements , without which all other so-called reforms are but mockeries and delusions to tlie mass of the people , of suclrreform Mi-. Duitv and his friends scejn never t » have thought : they are too much occupied with gloating over the records of the barbaric past , to attend to the greatest of all questions which must inevitably agitate the future . In short , the one idea of Mr . Duffy appears to be " Ireland independent ol England . " To that end he re-kindles the animosities of the past , excites race against race , and nation against nation . To that end he courts the alliance of the ambitious and unscrupulous partisans of war
and conquest in France and America , caring not who suffers in the contest he desires to see commenced , so that he can sec England struck at , and , if possible , struck down . To that cad he would isolate Ireland from the other nations by reviving an extinct language , now happily kid in " the tomb of all the Capulets . " These things Mr . Duffy and his party would do , but they will fail . They may partially succeed fur a time , but the very means they are at present employing will ultimately produce results very different to those they contemplate . They arc diffusing knowledge , and in this they are doing a mighty good . That knowledge they design shall mar instead of accelerate man ' s progress , but this design cannot but ultimately fail . Irishmen will by-and-by e learn that men of all nations are brothers , and that tlieir only real aud formidable enemies are men of their own country and name .
With these impressions of Mr . Dunn ' , we expected on opening this little book to find it brimful of biood and thunder against tlie " Saxon . " We knew what were the songs and ballads of the Nation , and we expected that the contents of this volume would be of a similar character . That the songs and ballads of the Nation are rich in genuine poetry we cheerfully acknowledge ; but tlieir spirit and design is most objectionable and detestable . We avc happy to say , that this volume of " Ballads" is not of the same character . True , there is a plentiful allowance of the anti-Saxon spirit in many of tlie political ballads , but these speak the feelings of a bygone period which were then natural and justifiable —feelings which are unnatural and unjustiliable now . But this volume consists not merely of political ballads , there avc some of a domestic character , full of sentiment and pathos which cannot fail to deeply impress the hearts of all who read them .
The collection before us consists entirely of ballads , and not of sowjs ; between which Mr . Duffy draws this distinction—that "by-a ballad is to be understood a short lyrical narrative poem , and by a song , a lyrical poem of sentiment or passion . " _ Many of tlie ballads are very beautiful , the non-political the most so . The political ballads , indeed , are nearly all very inferior to those which have appeared in the Nation . With the exception of the few translations from tllC ancient Irish , all the ballads are of very modern date . A well-written introduction , written by Mr . Duffy , precedes the ballads . Mr . D . cites the healthy and soul-invigorating influence of the songs and ballads of Burns upon the Scottish p ? oplc as a proof of the good that may be accomplished by cultivating amongst
the people a taste for genuine poetry . " Every household in Scotland , from the peasant-farmer ' s upwards , as Lockhart proudly assures us , has its copy of Burns lying side by side with the family bible . Tlie young men , nurtured upon this strong food , go forth io contend with the world ; and in every kingdom of the earth they are to be found tilling posts ol trust and honour , trustfully and honourably . " And again , speaking of Bunxs , Mr . Dcffy says , " He wooed poetry from the saloon and the library to become household among the poorest peasantry in Europe , elevated the uncouth dialect of his native hills to be familiar to fit ' ty millions of men among the most powerful and civilised of modern nations . And in this nationality lay his strength not alone among
his own people , but aiming all people . Ilis English songs are comparatively neglected ; nis Scotch songs , with their provincial and unpronounceable phraseology , arc ii : the mouths of more men than SpoltC Ilis native tongue when he began to mould it into rustic verse . " We demur to the alleged fact that BunNS ' s English songs are " comparatively neglected , " but we admit , that even amongst the English , his Scotch songs , so tai as thoy are understood , are the most popular . But it is impossible this should be because of their " nationality . " The fact ia , the songs of Bunas , whether Scotch or English , are more cosmopolitan than national—they speak to the hearts of men of all
countries and climes , and henco their universal popularity ^ The mos t " national" song of Uunxsis his famous " Scot ' s wha liae wi' Wallace bled ;" ¦ )' et that song is as popular in England as in Scotland . At every Chartist festival holden in this country that song is invariably sung . Buuce and Edward are forgot ten , Bannock burn is hardly remembered ; but as the song rings through , the festival hall , all , without regard to country , join in the thrilling strain " Let ui do or die . " tJHAicsrEARE wrote in English , and Bunxs in Scotch , hut both arc the poets of the world . We sliall best give our readers an idea of the poetical beauties of the volume by the following selections : —
W . 1 KE OF WILLIAM ORlt , BV DE . DBENNAS . [ The case of William Orr involves one of the most ruthless acts of tyranny that preceded the insurrection 0 fl" !) 8 . Ol ' i , who wasayjung lVesbjetrian farmer of Antrim , and a man of great personal popularity , was tried and convicted in October , ' 97 , of administering the United Irish oath to a private soldier , named Whill / , But on the same day , four of his jury made affidavits stating that whisky had been introduced into Hie jury room , and the verdict agreed to under the joint influence of drunkenness and intimidation . Next day Whitly , the crown witness , confessed that his evidence was false , or distorted in essential particulars . Under these strange circumstances , Orr was reprieved by government ; and
the reprieve twice renewed . But , ultimately , when the nation confidently awaited the commutation of his sentence , he vras ordered for execution , A storm of indignation followed this arbitrary and merciless decision . The most moderate men were outraged by its inj ustice ; the most timid were stung to resistance by its naked tyranny . Orr died with unshaken courage , exhorting his countrymen to be true and faithful to each other , as he had been true to them . " His fortitude increased popular enthusiasm to a passion . He was universally regarded as a martyrto . Liberty ; and " Iteinember Orr !" became the most popular and stimulating -watch-word of the national pnrty . His death was celebrated in innuiuerable elegies , of which these noble and affecting verses are the hest . ] Here our murdered brother lies ! Wake him not with women ' s cries . Mourn the way that manhood ought ; Sit in silent trance of thought . Write his merits on your mind ; Morals pure and manners Kind ; In his head as on a hill , Virtue plac'd her citadel . Why cut off in palmy youth ? Truth he spoke , and acted truth . Countrymen , unite ! he cry'd , And died—for what Ms Saviour ; died . God of Peace , and God of Lov « , Let it not thy vengeance move . Let it not thy lightnings . < lj : a , M j A nation guiUoJin . 'd . by . law .
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# There w a welUuthentlcated anecdote of Cromwell ° " vSrKT ^' " hiS tr 00 ^ ^ eve aboutcrossiug a mer to . attack tho enemy , he concluded an address , couched i * the usual fanatic terms in use among them with these words- " put your trust in God : but mind to k . eep your powder dry . " t"Sfet fffc"an informer .
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Hapless nation . ! , rent , and torn , Thou wert early taught to mourn , warfare of six hundred years ! Epochs marked with blood and tears ! Hunted through thy native grounds , Or flung reward to human bounds f Each one pull'd and tore his share , Heedless of thy deep despair . Hapless nation—hapless land , Heap of uncementing sand ! Crumbled by a foreign weight ; And by worse—domestic hate . G od of mercy ! God of peace ! Make the mad confusion cease ; O'er the mental clia 03 move , Through it speak the light of love . Monstrous and unhappy sight . ' Brothers' blood will not unite ; Holy oil and lioly water , Mix , and fill the world with slaughter . "Who is she with aspect wild ! The widow'd mother with her child , Child new stirring in the womb ! Husband waiting for the tomb ! Angel of this sacred place , Calm liu 1 soul and whisper peace , Cord , or axe , or Guillotin , Make the sentence—not the sin . Here we watch our brother's sleep ; Watch with us , but do not weep ; Watch with us thro' dead of night , But expect the morning light . Conquer fortune—persevere ! Lo ! it breaks , the morning clear ! The cheerful cock awakes the skies , The day i 3 come—arise!—arise ! [ Dr . Drennan , the author of this ballad , was one of the ablest writer * among the United Irishmen . His Letters of OreOana contributed powerfully to enlist Ulster in "the
Union . His songs and ballads , which were chiefly directed to the same object , are vigorous and graceful beyond any political poetry of the period . His song commencing " When Erin first rese from , the dark swelling flood , " which fixed upon Ireland the title of the "Emerald Isle , " Hoore esteems among the most perfect of modern songs . A little volume of his poems was published in 1815 , but is now very scarce . In 1794 , he was brought to trial for his political principles ; but then , or throughout a long and honoured life , he never abandoned thcm . l
In his selection of " Irish" ballads Mr . Dum- very properly gives specimens of the Orange ballads . The famous ' * Battle of the Boyne" is very poor ; " Oliver ' s Advice" is much superior . We give a few of the verses of this last as the ballad is a literary curiosity in this country : —
OLIVER'S ADVICE . AN ORANGE BALLAD , BX C 0 L 0 NE 1 BLACKER . The night is gathering gloomily , the day is closing fast—The tempest Haps his raven wings iu loud and angry blast ; T . h * tUundtsv clouds ate driving athwart the lurid sliy—But , " put your trust in God , my boys , and keep your powder dry . " * There was a day when loyalty was hail'd with houour due , Our banner the protection wav'd to all the good and true—And gallant hearts beneath its folds were link'd in honour ' s tie—We put our trust in God , my fcoys , and kept our powder dry .
When treason bared her bloody arm , and madden'd round the land , For kings , and laws , and order fair , we drew the ready brand ; Our gathering spell was William's name—our word was "do or die , " And still we put our trust in God , ana kept our powder dry . The ballad goes on to lament the change that has taken place in "loyal" men being discountenanced , and " traitors" appointed to rule the land . This was written in 1834 , when the Whigs were in tlie ascendant , and that party were beginning to caress O'Consell : —
They come , whose deeds incarnadin'd the Slaney ' s silver wave—They come , who to the foreign foe the hail of welcome gave ; He comes , the open rebel fierce—he comes the Jesuit sly ; But put jour trust in God , my boys , and kecpyourpowder dry . They come , whoso counsels wrapp'd the land in foul rebellious flame , Their hearts unchnstenod by remorse , their checks unting'd by shttrae . Be still , be still , indignant heart—be tearless , too , each eye , And put your trust ia God , my boys , and keep your powder dry .
We pass over some of the most " ultra-religious " verses , in whicii it is difficult to decide whether " God , " " Great William , " or that old imbecile bigot the " Earl of Roden , " has the greatcstshare of praise ; the following avc tlie two concluding verses : — Then cheer , yo hoavts of loyalty , nor sinlt iu dark despair , Our banner sliall again unfold its glories to the air , The Storm that raves the wildest , the soonest passes by ; Then put your trust in God , my boys , ami keep your powder dry . For " happy homes , " for " altars free , " we grasp the ready sword , For freedom , truth , and for our God ' s unmutilated word . These , these the war-cry of our march , our hope the Lord on high ! Then put your trust in God , my boys , and keep your powder dry . Much more to our taste are the following simple , but beautiful and pathetic lines : —
THE PATRIOT MOTHER . A BALLAD OF ' 98 . " Come , tell us the name of the rebell y crew , Who lifted the pike on the Curragh with you ; Come , tell us their treasou , and then you'll be free , Or , by heavens , you shall swing from the high gallows tree . " " Alanua ! 'Akamai the shadow of shame Has never yet fallen upon one of your name ; And oh ! may the food from my bosom you drew , Iu your veins turn to poison , if you turn untrue . " The foul words—oh ! let them not blacken yourtougue , That would prove to your friends and your country a wrong , Or the curse of a mother , so bitter and dread , With the wrath of the Lord—may they fall on your head ; " I have no one but you in the whole world wide ,
Yet folae to your pledge you'd nu ' er stand at my side ; If a traitor you liv'd , you'd bu farther away From my heart than , if true , you were wrapp'd in the < -lay . " Oh 1 deeper aud darker the mourning would be , For your falsehood so base , than your death proud and ¦ free , Dearer , far dearer than ever to me , My darling , you'll be ou the brave gallows tree , " 'Tis holy , agra , from the bravest and best—Go ! go ! from my heart , and be join'd by the rest , Alanna , machree ! 0 , alanna , machree ! Sure a ' stag' i and a traitor you never will he . " There's no look of a traitor upon the young brow That ' s raised to the tempters so haughtily now ; No traitor e ' er held up the firm head so high-No traitor e'ev sliowM suclv a . proud flashing eye .
On the high gallows tree ! on the brave gallows tree ! Where smil'd leaves and blossoms , his sad doom met he ; But it never bore blossom so pure or so fair , As the heart of the martyr that hangs from it there . Here is a beautiful ballad combining tllfl poetical with the descriptive : —
GOUGAUSE EAURA . BV J . J . A CALL ANI N . [ " The lake of Gougaime Burra , in the wost-end of the county Cork , is the parent of the River Iee . "J There is a green island in lone Gougaune Barra , Where Aliua of song rushes forth as an arrow ; in deep-valued Desmond—a thousand wild fountains Come down to that lake , from their home in the mouu . tains . There grows the wild ash , and a time-stricken willow Looks chidingly down on the mirth of the billow ;
As , like some gay child , that sad monitor scorning , It lightly laughs back to the laugh of the morning . And its none of dark hills—oh . ' to see them all bright . ning , When the tempestflings out its red banner of li ghtning , And the waters rush down , ' mid the thunder ' s deep rattle , [/ ike clans from their hills at the voice of the battle ; And brightly the fire-crested billows are gleaming , And wildly , from Mullagh , the eagles are screaming . Oli i where is the dwelling , in valley or highland , So meet for a bard as this lone little island ..
How oft , when the srnnmer . sun rested on Clara , And lit the dark heath on the hill 3 of Ivera , Have I sought tt \ e < s , sxiect spot , from my home "by the ocean , And trod all thy wilds with a minstrel ' s devotion , And thought of thy bards , when assembling together , In the cleft of thy rocks , or the depth of the heather ? They fled from the Saxon ' s dark bondage and slaughter , And waked their last song by the rush of thy water . High son's of the lyre , oh ! how proud was the feelin-, To think , while alone through that solitude stealing Though loftier minstrels Green Erin can mimber I only awoke your wild harp from its slumber The songs even echo forgot on her mountains ' And mingled once more with the voice of those foun tains ,
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Octobeb 25 , 1845 . __^ YgE NORTHER y OTAH ; - 3
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Northern Star (1837-1852), Oct. 25, 1845, page 3, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/ns/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1338/page/3/
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