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Who, when the time of summer season smiled, Did earn for her a meal of honesty, And with affectionate discourse beguiled The keen attacks of pain and poverty; Till Power, as envying her this only joy, , From her maternal bosom tore the unhappy boy. VII. And now cold charity’s unwelcome dole Was insufficient to support the pair; And they would perish rather than would

bear The law's stern slavery, and the insolent Stare With which law loves to rend the poor man's soul—

The bitter scorn, the spirit-sinking noise
Of heartless mirth which women, men, and

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BROTHERs 1 between you and me

Whirlwinds sweep and billows roar:
Yet in spirit oft I see

On thy wild and winding shore
Freedom’s bloodless banners wave,—
Feel the pulses of the brave
Unextinguished in the grave,—

See them drenched in sacred gore,—
Catch the warrior's gasping breath
Murmuring “Liberty or death!”


Shout aloud! Let every slave,

Crouching at Corruption's throne, Start into a man, and brave

Racks and chains without a groan; And the castle's heartless glow, And the hovel’s vice and woe, Fade like gaudy flowers that blow—

Weeds that peep, and then are gone; Whilst, from misery's ashes risen, Love shall burst the captive's prison.


Cotopaxi! bid the sound

Through thy sister mountains ring, Till each valley smile around

At the blissful welcoming ! And O thou stern Ocean-deep, Thou whose foamy billows sweep Shores where thousands wake to weep

Whilst they curse a villain king, On the winds that fan thy breast Bear thou news of Freedom’s rest !


Ere the day-star dawn of love,

Where the flag of war unfurled Floats with crimson stain above

The fabric of a ruined world? Never but to vengeance driven When the patriot's spirit shriven Seeks in death its native heaven!

There, to desolation hurled, Widowed love may watch thy bier, Balm thee with its dying tear.


BEAR witness, Erin! when thine injured isle

Sees summer on its verdant pastures smile,

Its cornfields waving in the winds that sweep

The billowy surface of thy circling deep.

Thou tree whose shadow o’er the Atlantic gave

Peace, wealth, and beauty, to its friendly wave, its blossoms fade,

And blighted are the leaves that cast its shade ;

Whilst the cold hand gathers its scanty fruit,

Whose chillness struck a canker to its root.


How eloquent are eyes!

Not the rapt poet’s frenzied lay

When the soul’s wildest feelings stray
Can speak so well as they.
How eloquent are eyes !

Not music’s most impassioned note

On which love’s warmest fervours float
Like them bids rapture rise.

Love, look thus again,—
That your look may light a waste of years,
Darting the beam that conquers cares
Through the cold shower of tears.
Love, look thus again !


SHALL we roam, my love,
To the twilight grove,

When the moon is rising bright;
Oh, I'll whisper there,
In the cool night-air,

What I dare not in broad day-light!

I'll tell thee a part
Of the thoughts that start
To being when thou art nigh;
And thy beauty, more bright
Than the stars' soft light,
Shall seem as a weft from the sky.


When the pale moonbeam

On tower and stream
Sheds a flood of silver sheen,

How I love to gaze

As the cold ray strays
O'er thy face, my heart's throned queen!

Wilt thou roam with me
To the restless sea,
And linger upon the steep,
And list to the flow
Of the waves below
How they toss and roar and leap *

V. Those boiling waves And the storm that raves At night o'er their foaming crest, Resemble the strife That, from earliest life, The passions have waged in my breast.

Oh, come then and rove
To the sea or the grove
When the moon is rising bright,
And I’ll whisper there
In the cool night-air
What I dare not in broad day-light.


ONCE, early in the morning,
Beelzebub arose,—
With care his sweet person adorning,
He put on his Sunday clothes.

II. He drew on a boot to hide his hoof, He drew on a glove to hide his claw, His horns were concealed by a Bras Chapeau, And the Devil went forth as natty a Beau As Bond-street ever saw.

He sate him down, in London town,
Before earth's morning ray,
With a favourite imp he began to chat,
On religion, and scandal, this and that,
Until the dawn of day.

IV. And then to St. James's court he went, And St. Paul's Church he took on his way,

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