Page images
PDF
EPUB

I SAW FROM THE BEACH.

AIR.-Miss Molly.

I.

I SAW from the beach, when the morning was shining, A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on;

I came, when the sun o'er that beach was declining,— The bark was still there, but the waters were gone!

II.

Ah! such is the fate of our life's early promise,

So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known: Each wave, that we danced on at morning, ebbs from

us,

And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore alone!

III.

Ne'er tell me of glories, serenely adorning

The close of our day, the calm eve of our night ;Give me back, give me back the wild freshness of

Morning,

Her clouds and her tears are worth Evening's best

IV.

Oh, who would not welcome that moment's returning, When passion first waked a new life through his

frame,

And his soul-like the wood that grows precious in

burning

Gave out all its sweets to love's exquisite flame!

FILL THE BUMPER FAIR.

AIR.-Bob and Joan.

I.

FILL the bumper fair!
Every drop we sprinkle

O'er the brow of Care,
Smoothes away a wrinkle.

Wit's electric flame

Ne'er so swiftly passes,

As when through the frame

It shoots from brimming glasses.

Fill the bumper fair!

Every drop we sprinkle

[blocks in formation]

Grasp the lightning's pinions, And bring down its ray

From the starr'd dominions :—

So We, Sages, sit,

And, 'mid bumpers bright'ning,

From the Heaven of Wit

Draw down all its lightning!
Fill the bumper, etc.

III.

Wouldst thou know what first

Made our souls inherit

This ennobling thirst

For wine's celestial spirit?

It chanced upon that day,
When, as bards inform us,

PROMETHEUS stole away

The living fires that warm us.

Fill the bumper, etc.

IV.

The careless Youth, when up

To Glory's fount aspiring,

Took nor urn nor cup

To hide the pilfer'd fire in :—
But oh his joy! when, round
The halls of Heaven spying,
Amongst the stars he found
A bowl of BACCHUS lying.
Fill the bumper, etc.

V.

Some drops were in that bowl,
Remains of last night's pleasure,

With which the Sparks of Soul

Mix'd their burning treasure!

Hence the goblet's shower

Hath such spells to win us—

Hence its mighty power

O'er that Flame within us.

Fill the bumper, etc.

VOL. IV.

8

DEAR HARP OF MY COUNTRY!

AIR.--New Langolee.

I.

DEAR Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee; The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long,* When proudly, my own Island Harp! I unbound thee,

And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song! The warm lay of love and the light note of gladness Have waken'd thy fondest, thy liveliest thrill; But, so oft hast thou echoed the deep sigh of sadness, That even in thy mirth it will steal from thee still.

* In that rebellious but beautiful Song, "When Erin first rose," there is, if I recollect right, the following line :

"The dark chain of silence was thrown o'er the deep!"

The Chain of Silence was a sort of practical figure of rhetoric among the ancient Irish. Walker tells us of "a celebrated contention for precedence between Finn and Gaul, near Finn's palace at Almhaim, where the attending Bards, anxious, if possible, to produce a cessation of hostilities, shook the Chain of Silence, and flung themselves among the ranks." See also the Ode to Gaul, the Son of Morni, in Miss BROOKE's Reliques of Irish Poetry.

« PreviousContinue »