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Oh, for the kings who flourish'd then!
Oh, for he pomp that crown'd them! When hearts and hands of freeborn men
Were all the ramparts round them! When, safe built on bosoms true,
The throne was hut the ceutre, Round which Love a circle drew, That Treason durst not enter.
Oh, for the kings who flourish'd then ! etc.
NE'ER ASK THE HOUR.
AIR---My Husband's a Journey to Portugal gone.
Ne'er ask the hour — what is it to us
How Time deals out his treasures ?
Are not his coin, but Pleasure's.
I'd number each glorious second;
Too quick and sweet to be reckon'd.
How time his circle measures ?
Obey no wand but Pleasure's !
Young Joy ne'er thought of counting hours,
Till Care, one Summer's morning, · Set up, among his smiling flowers,
A dial, by way of warning.
As long as its light was glowing,
How Time his circle measures ?
Obey no wand but Pleasure's !
SAIL ON, SAIL ON.
A1R— The Humning of the Ban.
Sail on, sail on thou fearless bark
Where ever blows the welcome wind,
More sad than those we leave behind.
« Though death beneath our smile may be,
Sail on, sail on-through endless space
Through calm-through tempest stop noinore. The stormiest sea's a resting place
To him who leaves such hearts on shore.
Then rest thee, bark, but not till then.
YES SAD ONE OF SION.
Air-1 would rather than Ireland.
Yes, sad one of Sion--if closely resembling,
In shame and in sorrow, thy wither'd up heartIf drinking deep, deep, of the same « cup of trein,
bling» Could make us thy children, our parent thou art. Like thee doth our nation lie conquer'd and
1 These verses were written after the perusal of a treaLise by Mr. Hamilton, professing to prove that the Irish "ere originally Jows.
And fallen from her lead is the once roya.crown; In her streets, in her halls, Desolation hath spoken, And « while it is day yet, her sun bath gone
Like thine doth her exile, mid dreams of re
turning, Die far from the home it were life to behold; Like thine do her sons, in the day of their mourn
ing, Remember the bright things that bless'd them
Ah well may we cail her, like thee, « the For
saken, 12 Her boldest are vanquish’d, her proudest are
slaves; And the harp of her minstrels, when gayest they
waken, Have breathings, as sad as the wind over
Yet hadst thaou thy vengeance-yet came there the
1 «Her sun is gone down while it was yet day».
Jer. xv. 9. 2 « Thou shalt no more be termed Forsaken.»
Isa. lxii. 4.
That shines out, at last, on the longest darks
night, When the septre that smote thee with slavery and
sorrow, Was shiver'd at once, like a reed, in thy siglit
When that cup, which for others the proud Golden
City! Had brimm'd full of bitterness, drench'd her
own lips, And the world she had trampled on, heard, with
out pity. The howl in her halls and the cry from her
When the curse Heayen keeps for the haughty
came over, Her merchants rapacious, her rulers unjust, And – a ruin, at last, for the earth-worm to
cover,2The Lady of Kingdoms 3 lay low in the dust.
i « How hath the oppressor ceased! the golden city ccased.» Isaiah air. 4.
2 « Thy pomp is brought down to the grave...... and the worms cover thee.» Isaiah xiv. 11.
3 «Thou shalt no more be called the Lady of King doms.» Isaiah xlvii. 5.